“Even psychopaths have emotions. Then again, maybe not.”
Richard Ramirez
He stood watching her enter her yard from across the street.
In jeans, scuffed boots and a pair of sunglasses he stood, sleeves rolled to his elbows, shirt untucked, it flapped against the cold wind, a small bag, slung over one shoulder, covering his head,a cap, pulled forward over his brow.
His calm face, masking the seething contempt coursing through him.
He raged silently.
Yet his bearded face, betrayed no sign of discomfort.
There was a small roadside stall a little further from him, being manned by a trio of youth.
He approached it, took out a green note and enquired the price of the single cigarettes they sold.
They had a small portable speaker with music emitting from it. Nothing melodious, some new track by an artist whose name he wouldn’t remember anyway.
He smiled at the young man who offered him a lighter and reached into his pocket for more loose change, placed it on the market table and bought another cigarette that he offered to the man.
“Here my friend, take this”
The youth smiled, offered his own thanks and promptly retrieved the lighter.
“There is a young woman who lives here” he gave her name.
The youth nodded “yes she lives right around here”
Both of his companions turned their heads toward the conversation.
One of them with a raised eyebrow “what are you looking for her for?”
“Oh we work together and she asked me over, I’m confused about the house though”
Still looking distrustful the second companion tilted his head across the street.
“She lives right there” gesturing toward a low brick home, painted a creamy beige.
The man smiled again. “Thank you, I’ll go check”
He approached the gate. And rapped the padlock against the metal grate.
A dog came running toward the fence barking.
He appeared nonchalant.
He placed a fist near the wire and tilted it downward to mimic canine subservience.
The dog, a mongrel of no particular breed, sniffed cautiously and moved away.
He’d always had a way with dogs.
“why are you here?” a voice called out.
He looked up.
She stood at the doorway, arms across her delicate breasts.
A sundress.
Barefooted.
Beautiful.
“I came to see you” he called out softly
“I told you not to come, why did you?” she frowned
He looked about him, noticing the slight attention the market stall gave him
“I missed you” he replied softly
“I told you, I don’t want to see you”
“I’ve come all this way, cut off meetings to make time for you, and you know I’ve already been placed on notice for this.”
Part of that was true. He’d almost lost his job once.
Because of her.
“You shouldn’t have come” she replied.
“I came a long way” He smiled wryly.
And while the distance to get here had been long, he’d lied to his boss that he was visiting a sick relative.
Hiring a vehicle had been easy.
Leaving it at a friend’s house had been harder to explain.
And he’d taken two taxi’s to get there, stopping the driver two streets back, before continuing on foot.
A half an hour journey, almost tripled as a result.
“I don’t want you here” she replied “You should go.”
“I can’t leave if I’ve come all this way.”
“I told you not to come.”
“Can I at least have something to drink?” shoulders shrugged in a conciliatory pose.
“The gate is locked.” She hit back in an exasperated tone.
He smiled.
And unclasped the padlock off its dangling chain and with a slight salute and a smile toward the youth watching him, entered the yard.
The dog moved toward him but didn’t bark, instead wagging its tail as he grasped behind its ear to give it a scratch.
“Leave the dog, just tell me what you want and go”
“Still giving me orders I see” he grinned.
He walked toward her smiling, the dog following his heels.
Advancing he hugged her, “I missed you”
He kissed her, then firmly gripping her wrist, held her out in front of him and guided her toward the front the door.
“Come on darling, its too public for this, let’s go inside and talk”
He could feel her resisting but he was stronger and edged her closer to the door.
Across the street, one of the young men sitting at the market stall turned to his companion
“He obviously came to fuck her”
“She’ll be screaming soon” came the retort.
The three of them laughed.
For her however, there was anger.
Inside the house by now, the man reached behind him as he pushed her forward, turning to the door, he locked it.
“I told you. I missed you.”
And he slapped her, watching her recoil.
“That’s for the messages today about leaving me. “
She reached a hand toward her now-reddening cheek.
“Why did you do that? Get out or I’ll scream.”
“Scream?” He looked perplexed.
“Try scream now” he snarled and he lunged forward, pinning her down on the floor, a hand clamped on her mouth, using the weight of his body to hold her still.
The bag he’d brought with him was unzipped.
And still having her pinioned beneath, he reached in and brought out a kitchen knife.
Holding it to her throat he whispered heavily in her ear, his legs between hers.
“Scream and I’ll be forced to use this”
She tensed. Eyes wide. The pressure of the steel blade, acute against her trachea.
He looked at her again. His features softened for a minute.
Then gripped her hair and forced her to stand. “Get up.”
“Sit on that chair.” He ordered.
She sat. Terrified.
“Please, what do you want?”
He ignored her.
Instead reaching back into his bag for the masking tape he’d bought earlier.
“Now, I’m going to put this on you.” And he unstrapped the sticky coil.
She raised her hands to stop him, but struggled against him as a strip of tape was placed over her mouth.
And as she tried to remove it suddenly found both her wrists bound together, then her knees buckled as she was forced downward.
“Stay still my love or this will hurt.” He whispered calmly.
“I love you, I don’t want to hurt you but I will if you fight. Stay still.”
He bound her feet.
Then propped her back on the chair.
He pulled another chair toward her, sitting so closely that he could lean forward toward her face.
“I love you. But you make things so hard sometimes.”
She could only whimper a response.
“Shhhhhh” he placed a finger to her covered lips.
“Don’t talk. Listen.”
He stood and walked over to the nearby window, drawing the curtains.
“You know I love you, I have done everything you’ve ever wanted.”
Memory caused him to pause.
“ But you never had time for me. Mocked me for my losses and laughed at my failures.”
He shook his head sadly.
“So many times I had told you I wanted us to build our future together. So many times my love.”
He sat back on his own chair.
And rubbed his eyes, sighing
“But you were always busy. Busy with something else. Busy with something new. Never once have you even asked me how I was. In all these years. Not once.”
He shook his head again.
“When you needed me, I was always there. Always. Your friend’s wedding, a relatives funeral. Your brother in the hospital. I was there. I gave you everything”
His eyes welled.
“Yet at my father’s death, you chose a pool and friends over me”
He pulled his chair closer to her.
She felt a sudden shock as her feet, then her legs and eventually her crotch became moist.
The smell of kerosine filled the room.
“I want our time together. And this time, there will be no distractions. No other men that you’ve been talking to behind my back. No cousins that need help. No one else.”
He clenched his fist
“Just you. And me.”
She blacked out as a large hand smashed into her face.
Three hours later, her battered form, curled and whimpering, was found.
Both eyes blackened, a split lip with blood, now-dried running in a fade streak down her nose.
The smell of burnt flesh.
Her mother’s hysterical screams had summoned the neighbors, while her father stood in horror, when they’d found her.
Now the community stood gathered within the yard.
Three young men from the nearby market stall had been questioned.
A bearded man they said.
Questions angrily thrown had garnered little tangible information.
Did he climb the fence? No
Did he act suspicious? No
Did you hear screams? No
When the man left, they said, he returned to the market, purchased a cigarette and calmly walked down the street.
They’d been lambasted.
Interrogated, but there was little point in placing blame.
In shame they’d retreated to their market stall.
Not long after, a sedan pulled up, parking inches from the curb.
The passenger window wound down.
“Hi there, how much for a cigarette?”
One of the men, eager to be distracted offered the amount and carried the packet over.
In it, a man. Well dressed, clean shaven, obviously wealthy, sat.
“Thank you, got a lighter?”
The youth reached into his pocket and offered.
“What happened here?” The driver enquired, staring ahead at the small mass of people across the road.
“A woman got raped. And half her body is burnt”
“Oh that’s sad, have they found the guy?” he exhaled a cloud
“No, not yet.” Came the reply.
“Damn” the driver muttered
“Ok, well I hope they do. Nasty business rape.”
The youth nodded and began counting out the man’s change, though he looked up as the man replied
“No that’s fine, you keep it, you might want to buy another cigarette for yourself.”
And he smiled.
The young man beside the door, thanked him, then stared into his own reflection as the tinted glass slowly wound back up, with the vehicle moving forward slowly, driving past the crowd and disappearing around the corner.
“Today’s been a strange day” he thought, “free smokes, and a profit.”
He returned to sit beside his companions, none said a word, one of them turning the little portable speaker up as another song came on.