The Atlas Murders (5 page)

Chapter Eight

 He arrived at The Dorchester
early, at seven thirty and he decided to spend some time walking around nearby Hyde
Park. However, he couldn't enjoy the balmy evening as he shared the beautiful
manicured lawns and riotous colored flowerbeds with strolling couples. All he
could see was Shirley in every young laughing girl. Her warm smile and trusting
eyes, her unbounded love of life. Fate has no compromise. He felt like shouting
out: all you beautiful young wonderful people enjoy yourselves, who knows where
the dark angel lays in waiting to wrap you in his dark cloak of sorrow.

The sky was tinted a feminine
pink as he turned back to the great hotel. Its imposing facade overlooking the
green swaths of the park. It was five minutes to eight as he walked to the
front desk. He was approached by a young gentleman dressed immaculately in
tuxedo with bow tie.

"Excuse me sir, would
you be Mr. Henry Carter?"

 "Yes that's me."

 "I've been asked by The
Honorable Miss Twist to show you to the lounge where she'll join you
shortly." He led Henry to a comfortable leather lounge chair. "Now sir
would you like something to drink while you're waiting, I can recommend our
finest scotch, or a beer if it so suits."

"I'll have a scotch with
ice please."

Henry took in his opulent
surroundings while he waited for his drink. A small party arrived in the lobby.
There were bellhops in plenty and a concerned looking manager fussed around.
Someone important was a guest, he thought. Yes, he couldn't mistake her as she
turned her full profile, beautifully radiant. It was indeed Bridgette Bardot.

His scotch arrived with pomp
and civility. Sipping his drink, he mused about the title that was accorded to
Miss Twist. What an enigma she was turning out to be. The thought dissolved as
he saw her coming towards him. He stood to catch her attention and stepped
forward to meet her. He was stunned at the beauty and presence that met him.
The high- heeled shoes gave her figure an imposing and very fetching approach;
downright sexy would describe it better. She wore a figure hugging off the
shoulder, smoky gray dress, with a light silk pastel nightshade blue stole
across her creamy pale shoulders.

"Good evening Henry, she
pouted. “I hope I haven't kept you waiting?"

"No, I've only just
arrived."

 "We'll have time for a
drink. Dinner is not served until eight thirty."

 The tuxedoed waiter appeared
out of nowhere.  

"What would you like to
drink?" enquired Henry.

 "I'll have a White
Lady".

"A scotch with ice and a
White Lady, please."

"I must say Vera, I was
pleasantly surprised to receive your invitation, I'm not used to such lavish
surroundings."

"It’s something you can
aspire to very easily. Wealth can be assumed, and then taken for granted; it’s
a type of game with some people."

"Maybe so Vera.”

“I must tell you how
beautiful you are, you are full of surprises. The first day I met you I could
never have imagined such beauty was lurking beneath such an austere façade, and
a titled lady also."

 She turned as the waiter
stood with his silver tray.

"Our drinks Henry."

Henry tipped the waiter; he
imagined it was the ‘done thing’.

 Vera looked over her
cocktail glass with approval; her full painted lips as she sipped her drink was
the most sensual act Henry had ever witnessed.

A distinguished man strode
through the lounge, and seeing Vera he waved, "wonderful to see you
looking so elegant my dear."

"Don’t forget to post me
your latest scribbling," she replied.

"You're top of my
list."

"Do you recognize that
jolly old sport? He's one of my favorite people."

 "He looks familiar but
I can't put a name to the face."

"Somerset Maugham. I'm
sure you've read some of his novels; my favorite is
Of Human Bondage.
I
don’t think he'll publish anymore, he's more or less retired."

 "It's a book I've heard
of but not read."

A waiter came over and told
them their table in The Krugg Room was ready. It was a stunning room of red
leather and contemporary glass. Henry realized there was another world most
ordinary people dream of but never even see. The menu was a wonder of English
and French language, but he managed to order properly. He let Vera order the
wine confessing he wasn't a wine buff. Her choice was superb - another
indication of her cultured background.

Small talk brought them to
the coffee, when Vera saw Henry eyeing the beautiful ring on her finger she
thrust her small delicate right hand across the table to him. "What do you
see that so intrigues you, is it this precious stone of loneliness and
tears?" The magnificent emerald set between two rubies and two diamonds
was breathtaking. Her delicate finger seemed inadequate to hold it. "It's
beautiful Vera, is it something you inherited?"

"I suppose you must
assume that, seeing it’s not on my wedding finger. It did rightfully sit there
lustfully and proud. Does that surprise you, because I truly loved all that
life could offer? It was my engagement ring. I was to be married to Lord Percy
Welland. The date was set and the June wedding was just ten months away; the
wedding reception was to be held at Percy's six thousand acre estate, Thurrock
Hall, his home and my future home. I was twenty years old and madly in love, he
was my first and only lover. You see, his parents were both deceased, and I was
mistress
of
Thurrock Hall in all but name. I still retained my position at my present
employer, but of course, Percy owned most of its share capital, so in fact, I
was working for my future family business. I spent all of my weekends at Thurrock
Hall, much to the chagrin of my parents; I being their only daughter with a
doting father. It wasn't proper you know for a young lady to spend overnight
time in the house of her intended un-chaperoned.

You seem perturbed as to why
I'm telling you all this personal biography, but bear with me, the part of
interest to you will follow in due course."

"I'm a good listener
Vera, you just carry on."

“Now, where was I?”

Oh yes, I spending time at
Thurrock Hall living the immoral life. Of course, I shared the big four poster bed
with Percy and we unashamedly made love to the knowledge and gossip of the
servants, especially one old crone who seemed to be as old as the building.
Percy said as young children they called her "Old Mam Butler". She
was stricter with them than their mother. They also saw more of her than their
mother - she really did rear them. She frowned on our behavior, and this often
caused Percy concern. Percy had a friend, a French Comte, Michel De Vercier who
arrived at Thurrock Hall with his sister Centaine for a short visit. They were both
young and beautiful people. He, deliciously handsome, dark and suave, and his
sister at nineteen was voluptuous. If I was ever tempted to be unfaithful to
Percy it was then. I was very much attracted to Michel, but we never shared an
intimacy other than a slow waltz. Centaine was always everywhere. She seemed to
appear out of nowhere when I was alone with Percy - beautifully and
delightfully intrusive. She even knocked on our bedroom door one night while we
were making love to ask Percy about some riding arrangements for the following
day. She had peeped around the door to speak to Percy. I brazenly stood naked
hoping it might tease or torment her. I had a slight suspicion she rather favored
Percy, and it wasn't long before I was proved right. Comte Michel went home to
his chateau after a week, but his beautiful sister decided to stay on at Thurrock
Hall. The weather back home in France that August was very hot, so she decided to
remain in England until the heat wave was over. I left for work in London every
Monday morning. I would stay in London and I arrived back on Fridays. While in
town, I was tormented with the thought of this exquisite French tart spending
time alone with Percy.

Listening intently, Henry glanced
across the table and noticed that Vera’s countenance had taken on an almost
trance-like remoteness. To him, it seemed that her consciousness was now firmly
fixed in the past as she continued her story.

Three weeks passed and she
was still flaunting her hot loins and perfect breasts around the estate,
scantily dressed in skimpy summer shorts, and flimsy lace tops with no
underwear. She was a profound whore and I told Percy as much and enquired of
him when was she leaving. He replied, she was the sister of his very good
friend and we could reciprocate the visit at any time to their chateau. He said
he couldn't just ask her to leave. Our lovemaking became a little strained and
I began to blame her presence. But Percy only taunted me saying how jealous I
was. On one occasion I arrived unannounced mid-week. Neither were there; they
had gone horse riding and she had taken my black mare that was so precious to
me I'd never loan her to anyone. Mam Butler met me and said she'd take my bag
to our bedroom, but I said no, I wanted to lie down after my journey. I never realized
she was protecting Percy.  Centaine’s clothes and her negligee were scattered
on the floor. They must have had sex after the maids had seen to the room that morning.
I went downstairs and out through a side door. I waited out of sight in a
corner of the stables until they arrived back. Then I was treated to more than
I had bargained for. Laughing and frolicking they turned out the horses and
then
Centaine swiftly
divested herself of her
riding
britches, lay back on a bed of new straw, before pulling Percy on top of her.
Their sex was loud and vigorous; her movements sensual and extravagant. So much
so, I felt I had been inadequate.  I stood transfixed as Percy thrust into her
like a stallion until she reached an unrestrained climax. He then rolled off
her semi-naked body.

It took me a little time to
adjust to reality and take in the scene.

Distraught, I screamed and screamed,
and ran back into the house. After he followed me to our room, he made no
excuses. He said that he was in love with Centaine and everything was over. I
returned to my home and my broken-hearted parents who shared my pain.”

Although shocked by her
candidness, Henry could feel her anguish and helplessness as her life was
stripped of all pleasures, hopes and dreams. Her affection and love cast aside
like flotsam in a tempest.

Vera gazed over to Henry and
seeing his somewhat concerned expression, she immediately apologized for her
uncharacteristic frankness in front of someone who was in reality, a total
stranger.

"Honestly Vera, there’s
no need to apologize. I think I understand why this has surfaced now. You have
been carrying the scars inside on your heart and mind for all these years. Perhaps
in me you can see how the loss of my niece has led to a similar haunting - a
pain that will never go away. I sincerely hope that by you telling me this, it
will help ease your heavy burden.”

"Thank you Henry, you
are so kind and understanding.”

“That’s sweet of you to say
so.”

And then, suddenly feeling
that it was the most natural thing to do, Henry reached across table and gently
held Vera’s hand in his. She placed her other hand on top of his and they gazed
intently into each other’s eyes for what, as far as they were concerned, could
have been an eternity.

The intensity of the moment
was rudely interrupted by the noise of a champagne bottle shattering on the marble
floor beside a nearby table. This brought a flurry of activity from various
members of staff, who were frantically milling about trying to round up shards
of glass that had scattered far and wide. Taking advantage of this distraction,
Henry leaned across the table and gently pulling Vera towards him, placed a
lingering kiss on Vera’s invitingly beautiful lips as she tenderly caressed his
neck.

How long the kiss lasted,
they couldn’t say, but realizing they were now becoming the center of
attention, they both eased back into their chairs and tried to feign an air of
decorum fitting for such genteel surroundings.

After finishing their coffees
in silence, Vera was the first to speak.

“Do you mind if we go now,
Henry. I will relate to you the rest of the story on the walk to my house which
is across the park”.

Vera called the waiter.

"Could you please put
this on my account?"

"Of course madam, just
sign here please." Vera scribbled her signature and they walked through to
the lobby. On the way past the front desk Henry noticed a familiar face.

"Vera is that who I
think it is?"

"Yes, it’s James Mason
the actor, one of my favorites. I've made his acquaintance. He is a gentleman
with an abundance of charm."

Vera led the way across to
the gate into the park. "It’s not far from here. I live in De Vere Gardens
at the other side of the park. It’s a beautiful night for a walk. I love this
place it's a country setting in the middle of a huge metropolis."