by Paul Kelly
“Well it wasn’t anything to do with you, so why the hell are you blushing? You only tried to kiss the girl from what you’ve told me and you have to do a little more than kiss a girl to get her pregnant as I’m sure you know, Mr. Bright.”
“I had... n... n... never been with any woman or... a... g... g... g... girl before I went with Maya. She is the only person who ever showed me any... af... af... af... affection. I was so proud and really, really happy when she let me...”
“Let you what?” asked Powel indifferently, as he threw his head back trying to make young Ricky-Boy think that he was little interested in what he was saying, but the words that were coming from the young man’s mouth were very important... Very important indeed,”
“Nothing,” Richard replied sharply and stared at the ground. “It’s n... n... n... none of your... b... b... business,”
“She let you touch her in an intimate way, didn’t she?”
“”I have said, that is none of your... b... b... business... Haven‘t I?”
Powel was cautious, but he began to think he might try Gardner’s approach when he asked Richard if he fucked his lover, which he thought was a stupid thing to ask and certainly not the kind of language he would use in any interrogation, but he also thought that the provocative word might make the boy think differently, however, he was wrong. Richard never raised an eyebrow when Powel uttered the dreaded words... He sat in silence and Powel wondered what he should say next to bring this young man to the open so that he would talk of his experiences with Mrs. Thompson and lessen the sentence that was overshadowing him, even if it wasn’t murder.
“She seduced you... didn’t she,” he said and watched Richard’s reaction... “and don’t deny it,” Powel went on... “she has already told me that she has.”
“I loved her. That is all I am... g... g... g... going to say.” was the reply but Powel wouldn’t leave it like that.
“You met this woman on a rainy evening; went to her flat to dry off and fell in love with her... all in a few minutes. Did you like her cocoa? Did she shove something into your drink?” Richard rubbed his forehead with the palm of his hand as Powel continued, “I can understand why you had sex with her, lad. Some men would say she is beautiful. Certainly she is a woman of experience, whereas you... you had none or very little and as she touched you, especially when you were partly naked, it’s only natural that you would respond, but that was SEX, not love. You surely must realize that. You’re no fool Richard Bright.”
Richard bit his lip and rubbed his eye with his forefinger.
“No, you are... you are wrong,” Richard replied coldly, “No... w... w... woman had ever let me... d... d... do anything to her that she did. She taught me things that I would... n. n... n... never have learned if she had not... b... b... b... been with me.”
Powel reflected on some of the things that Maya Thompson had said before he continued his questioning and his following question was a gamble, but he felt he had to ask it.
“Cunnilingus,” he said slowly, “Did she teach you what that meant, or was that something you thought was a cough medicine?”
Richard sat with glazed eyes when Powel asked him that question.
“I would have done any... any... anything for her,” he replied, innocently avoiding any knowledge of what Powel had said.
“Even murder?” asked Powel and Richard began to cry.
“Yes, even m... m... murder,” he stammered, “ but you told me... th... th... th... that this man I thought I had... k... k... k... killed was still alive and in hospital,”
“He is alive and should be discharged totally from hospital quite soon I should imagine, but there are other problems in this case.”
“Other problems... What do you... m... m... mean?”
Powel crossed his legs and studied his socks as if there was some special pattern there that would resolve and answer any question that Richard would ask.
“There’s some matter of drugs, Richard. Did you know Mrs. Thompson to indulge in drugs at all... I mean in the times when you were with her?”
Richard looked perplexed before he started to laugh,
“Maya doesn’t... n... n... n... need drugs,” he said, “she is a drug in her... her... her... herself when you are with her, but... ad... ad... additional drugs... No... and... f... f... for what anyway?”
“Well, you are her favourite lollipop,” added Powel thinking again of some remark that Maya Thompson had let slip. “So I suppose you would know better than anyone else.”
“Lollipop... Lollipop? I don’t know... wh... wh... what you mean. Did she say that to you?... favourite, I mean?”
“Yes, she did, why?”
Richard sighed heavily, but he started to look sad.
“I didn’t know that there... w... w... were any others,” he said, “Not for me to be her... f... f... f... favourite.”
Powel thought it might be well to add a little humour to the story at this point, as he felt somewhat sorry for what he had said.
“Perhaps you were the flavour of the month,” he said, but Richard blushed wildly and Powel thought he might have gone just a little too far...
Chapter Twelve
TOMMY GARDNER looked at his notes in the police station library. He wasn’t familiar with a computer and felt he was too old to start learning, so he had collected his information in a cardex system, each card containing someone’s name connected to the case. It was only a brief study of what each person was like, but it would give him enough information to make a more detailed study at a later date when he got home to his semi... if the wife would allow him. At least for the moment, there in the police station library, he would have some peace and quiet, away from nosy questions about the case he was now investigating.
Tommy searched into his cardex system and drew out the first card... Richard Bright... it read... Bright boy despite what everyone seems to think about him... handsome lad, but unlucky with the girls. I wonder why? Says they giggle at him and he can’t stand being laughed at... and what about this violin playing.
“Wonder was he any use at that and if he was, did he woo his lady with the fiddle?” Tommy asked himself aloud before he thrust his hand to his mouth and enjoyed a quiet giggle. He went on to the next character in his notes, turning the second card upside down on the desk and read... Lizzie Bright... not so bright as her silly son, I would say. Knows her onions though... Wonderful mother to her only son... I wonder. Her husband Sammy must have had some time with her constant nagging when he was alive... Tommy felt sure that comment was accurate... Mustn’t call Richard by any other name or he would take offence... “Strange” he thought aloud again as he turned the second card around to read what he had written on the back and rubbing the end of his nose with his fist as he muttered aloud... “I asked her son how he got on with his mother, but I should have asked him how he got on with his headmaster at school, shouldn’t I?”
Stupid to forget a thing like that, he read on, especially as everybody seemed to think he was a bit dull... and yet, he could quickly and efficiently learn to play the violin. Nothing dull about that... A second card went face down and Tommy Gardner took out a third one...
Maya Thompson... She’s a hard case. Photographer by profession always looking at other people’s mouths when she isn’t studying Richard Bright’s assets with her own... and another card went face down
Next on line was Fiona Morray-Smith... Sweet little madam. Wonder what her daddy Major Morray-Smith was like? She doted on him apparently, but doesn’t have much time for her mother... to say the least. Has a soft spot for the mother’s young lover, I would think... Or does she? Was she being truthful when she arranged for Richard to visit her mother’s flat when she knew that one of her mother’s other lovers would be there... or was she hoping that young Richard would turn against her mother if he discove
red he was being two-timed... or playing second fiddle... Was that more like it, Tommy wondered... “Second fiddle,” he repeated and laughed again at his own pun... ”Ha! Ha! “ Tommy laughed again as he continued to read aloud, “ Oh that was a pun, wasn’t it? second fiddle indeed... and he a violinist... But then that wouldn’t have meant that Richard would have turned his affections towards Fiona... or would it?”
Gardner gathered his cards together and shuffled them about like a pack of playing cards, hoping that one would turn out to be the ace, but he knew there would have to be a more thorough investigation before he could complete his enquiries.
***
It wasn’t difficult to interview Mr. Rudolph Barnes. He was still languishing in his prison cell, when he wasn’t in the prison hospital awaiting his release on parole and where he was allowed out on days with some sort of bail... Tommy Gardner studied Barnes’s form from the notes he had collected from the prison authorities and knew that most of Barnes’s adult life was spent in prison... even if he had been educated at public school level and had a degree in something or other, the name of which puzzled Gardner, since it was so difficult to spell. Barnes was only 36, but looked rather older in the snapshot that Gardner held in his hand. No doubt women and the booze had something to do with that and booze was number one on the high list of his priorities, when he wasn’t snorting cocaine... and where did he get the dope from... and even better still, when he had it to whom did he sell it on?...
Gardner waited in the interrogation room not quite expecting the figure that appeared through the heavy doorway. The man was HUGE in every sense of the word.
“Are you here to help me out of this bloody mess?” Barnes asked as he coughed and his chest rattled. “I’ve had two days out and now they’ve got me back again. I don’t know what the hell is happening here. Either I should be in hospital; in jail... or they should let me go free.”
Tommy stood up, almost as a token of respect as he listened to the cultured voice of the giant who stood before him and then he sat down quickly again. What was it with this guy, who made you think he was someone of some bearing when he was only a common junkie, but Gardner couldn’t answer his own question as he sat in silence and tried to answer the prisoner’s question... “Are you a solicitor... or something like that and am I entitled to legal aid as I can’t afford you, if I’m not.” said Barnes with a very upper-crust English accent.
“I’m not a solicitor,” said Gardner, feeling rather inferior with his accent being as near Cockney as you would wish for. “I’m a police officer, C.I.D. and I’ve been detailed here to give you any help you might require before your trial on Thursday. Now is there anything you want to ask me, before we start?”
Barnes coughed again and sputum filled the air, compelling Gardner to reach into his pocket for his handkerchief.
“Got a fag?” asked Barnes and Gardner shook his head. The prisoner was not the only one who could do with a weed at that time, but the notices were everywhere and in ever language... NO SMOKING.
“They don’t have anything on me, you know,” Barnes went on as his chest heaved, “I was only having some fun with that dame and she wasn’t complaining. Don’t know what hit me when I bounced off the floor and who was that fucking idiot who knocked me over? I hadn’t seen him before. Was he one of the Photographer lady’s clients,” he asked and a broad smile swept across his large face. “She knows her trade, does that one and I don’t mean what she does for the poor buggers in her dental chair.”
Reg. Gardner smiled although he thought the humour too dry for his taste.
“Have they discharge you then?” asked Tommy with a curious look on his face.
“Something called ‘condition of residence’...”replied Barnes, “whatever the hell that means. I know I can’t leave home if that’s what they mean.”
“That’s right. You can’t wander afar... Have they taken your passport?”
“Yes... and I hope they don’t keep it too long. I was hoping to get across to France to collect some more booze before long. My cellar’s looking empty.”
Gardner wanted to ask him at this juncture in the conversation about his other passion and he didn’t mean Maya Thompson. He was more interested to know how Barnes got hold of his cocaine... and other drugs that he didn’t want to talk about at that juncture.
“How do you spend your time then, if you are confined so much? It can’t be easy,” Gardner prompted hoping he might get a clue about his interviewee’s pass-times, but Barnes sat in silence, pondering something that existed only in his mind.
“Pass-times?” queried Gardner again, “Hobbies? Do you have any hobbies, he asked, but Barnes only laughed as something of a reply; staring at the floor and studying his hands.
“Pass-times... Well, I like woman, as you already know... and by the way, I wasn’t trying to kill that bird, Maya. I only wanted to teach her a lesson... slap her around a bit and then that little shit came in and spoiled everything.”
Gardner put his head to one side, affecting pity, but he was gradually beginning to find a certain loathing for this man who seemed to think only of himself and had such a disregard for the woman he professed to like. Quite a contradiction to the little shit that interrupted his love play, he thought... Maybe young Ricky-Boy was more of a man than he thought and maybe Maya Thompson should have realized that before she started meddling with the giant who nearly killed her.
“I thought you were arrested because there was a suspicion about the marks on her throat. Surely that was more than ‘teaching her a lesson’ or slapping her around a bit?”
“Marks on her throat?” asked Barnes before he laughed aloud again. “You tell me when you’ll ever find Maya Thompson without some mark or other on her throat... and other places on her body as well. She’s a sadist is that one. Could eat a man for dinner and spit him out for supper, she could. She’s no flower. I can tell you. She sure smells good but she‘s no rose and she is always with some bruise or other on her body. She loves that, she does... Shows those marks to you with a certain pride in her eyes. I think that’s what really turns her on.”
“Nevertheless, if there were other wounds or marks on her body, they weren’t found by the police and I think she would have been examined thoroughly by a police doctor, don’t you?”
“Police doctor, my arse,” barked Barnes. “I was marched off to hospital after I came round in the police station. They didn’t give a damn what happened to me, did they? All they could when they so-called ‘examined’ me, was stick a finger up my fucking arse, but I could have been bleeding from head to toe for all they cared. Bloody examination...”
“Well you weren’t marched off before you were examined. Mr. Barnes and the police doctor found traces of drugs in your blood stream.”
Barnes’s eyes went wide when Gardner said that and he began to shake and move his head about in a jerky fashion.
“There’s no way they could have found anything on me,” he snapped, “Clean as a whistle I am and have been for years. Why I didn’t even touch a drop of booze that evening I went to visit Maya Thompson... Well, you must understand that surely. I can’t get a hard-on when I’m pissed, can I?”
“Is that so?”
“Yes it bloody well is... I was married for fourteen years without any trouble down there in that department and yet now, after having been divorced for only three years, I can’t get a stiff one unless...”
“Unless you have a little cocaine to help you along?” asked Gardner, but Barnes only laughed again...
“It’s not drugs I need mate. They wouldn’t help me in that region. A good strong wrist is all I need, if you know what I mean... the old fashioned remedy that never fails.”
“Was that the reason that made you divorce your wife?”
“Oh! She was the pits, was that one... once a month and you had to fill in an app
lication for it... in triplicate. She always had a fucking headache.”
Gardner laughed and excused his rudeness, but Barnes waved his hand in the air.
“No need to apologize for anything I said there, mate,” he continued, “I could never understand it myself... Well not towards the end anyway. When I first met her, she couldn’t get enough. Twice nightly was mild. It was me who suffered the physical exhaustion in those days. I was the one who had to have the bloody headaches in the end, or I would have been crippled with slipped disks for life.”
“But I thought Mrs. Thompson and you were...”
“Yeah, we were, but she was a different kind of lady. I could tell her what I wanted and she would accommodate. If I want to shag her, she was there and if I wanted just to drop off to sleep, she would let me. All she did then was keeping her hand on my tackle, in case I left without paying her.”
Gardner was beginning to form a completely new and different picture of the lady photographer from what Rudolph Barnes was telling him, but it left him even more confused to think that Richard Bright could fall in love with her. A woman twice his age and a prostitute, it seemed from what he was hearing, regardless of her reputation as a professional lady photographer. Why on earth didn’t he pick on someone his own age, especially if he wanted to get married and have a family? WHY?”
“I thought that Mrs. Thompson and you were old friends and had enjoyed each other’s company for quite some time in the past. Isn’t that so?” Tommy asked with raised eyebrows, but Barnes sneered and looked towards the floor.
“I’d hardly call it a friendship that we had although I could talk to her better than I could to my ex. We were close associates, I suppose you could say, but it wasn’t love or anything like that. She could give me what I wanted and I thought I could do the same for her. It was just as simple as that... A sexual agreement, if you like. She liked what I was and had and I felt the same for her. Just a mutual need, that’s all,” Barnes concluded with a sniff and a complacent look in his eye.
