Part 4 (1/2)

Then footsteps. Someone sat on the bed. A match scratched. In the orange, fluttering glow, I saw the booted feet of the man just beyond my shoulder. The woman was crouched at the fire grate. She had her back to me.

When the fire was going good, she stood up straight and turned around.

”We'll have it cheery and warm in no time at all,” she said.

”I've got to be off in a bit,” the man told her.

That was welcome news.

”We'll be quick then, won't we?”

With that, Mary started to shed her duds. While she worked at them, the man pulled off his boots. Then he swung his legs up. The bed slats moaned a bit, and I knew he must be stretching out.

From my hiding place, I couldn't see any higher than Mary's knees. She stood barefoot on top of her coat and clothes kept dropping to the floor around her. Her legs had a ruddy glow in the firelight. Scared as I was, I got an awful urge to scoot closer to the edge of the bed for a better look at her. I was curious, but mostly I was feeling excited like I'd been with Sue before that gal whacked me.

Long about the time I decided to make my move, Mary came hurrying over to the bed and climbed on.

Those old slats groaned and creaked and pressed against my back. Pretty soon, the bed was shaking and jumping. From the sounds Mary and the fellow made, you'd think they were pitching fits. They thrashed about something fearful. They huffed and grunted and gasped. They both used vile language that doesn't need repeating here. I was just commencing to believe that ”having a go” might entail a fight to the death, but then Mary started in blurting, ”Oh! Oh yes! Harder! Harder! Oh, yes! Oh, deary! Yes!” If she was being killed, she was liking it. Then she let out a squeal that sounded closer to rapture than to pain.

After that, things settled down. The bed stopped moving. There was some hard breathing as if they'd both tuckered themselves out.

Then the man swung his legs over the side. He got into his boots, stood up and stepped over to the table by the head of the bed. Coins jangled. ”A bit of something extra for you, Mary,” he said.

”And would you care to go again?”

”Gotta be off, I'm afraid.” He bent over his coat and picked it up.

”You wouldn't want me to be going back out on such a night, now would you? And with that murdering fiend about?”

”That's none of my concern.”

”Be a dear. Please. I'm in arrears. I'll needs needs go out again if you don't give me more.” go out again if you don't give me more.”

”Take care,” was all he said. Then the bolt slid back. A chill gust swept over me, but went away a moment later when he shut the door.

Mary let out a sigh that made my heart ache.

I thought about the s.h.i.+llings in my pocket. I'd fully intended to leave them behind in payment for the rum I'd consumed, for the coat and s.h.i.+rt I intended to take. If she had them now, she might not need to go out again.

She would be ever so grateful.

And I knew I'd feel good for doing her such a kindness.

But I was keenly aware of her lying naked on the bed above me. Though I wanted a look at her, I feared what she might have me do.

Also, how could I make myself known to Mary without giving her a terrible fright? Why, she'd likely scream. I'd already had a narrow escape from those who mistook me for the Ripper. One round of that was enough to last me.

I decided to stay put, and leave the money after she had gone.

That was a decision I'll always regret.

I should've scurried out and planted all my money in her hand and risked whatever screams or shows of grat.i.tude she might have thrown my way.

I should've done whatever was needed to stop her from going out again.

Well, you just don't know what's going to happen in this life, or you'd do a lot of things different.

Even though I wanted to give her that money, I chose to play it safe for myself and stay hidden.

Soon, Mary climbed off the bed. She walked over to her pile of clothes. I kept my eyes on her, hoping for a peek at her good parts, but never saw more than her legs and arms, not even when she bent down to pick up her things.

It was something of a letdown, really.

Though I didn't know it just then, I would be seeing Mary sprawled out naked on her bed before the night was out. And that was a sight such as I wouldn't wish on anyone.

CHAPTER FIVE.

b.l.o.o.d.y Murder Mary finished dressing and went out the door. I stayed hidden under the bed, figuring she'd reach in through the window hole to shut the bolt.

Well, I waited and listened and wondered what was taking her so long.

Maybe she'd decided not to bother with the bolt. But I was in no hurry to crawl out. If she'd just forgotten, she might come back in a minute or two when she remembered.

Besides, I was feeling pretty good. My fears of being caught had eased off, now that I was alone, and that left me rather weak with relief. What with the fire, the room was warm and toasty.

But I reckon it was likely the rum that kept me pinned to the floor. I'd never imbibed more than a trifle of such stuff before tonight. It had me all lazy and comfortable.

By and by, I figured Mary wouldn't be coming back to bolt her door, after all, and I'd best grab the clothes and make my getaway.

Being so cozy, though, I wasn't eager to move on.

Figured to wait a few more minutes.

Well, I drifted off. Right there under Mary's bed, the warmth and rum and my general tiredness got me.

I believe I slept longer than a few minutes. It might've been more like a few hours.

When I woke up, it was too late to skeedaddle.

I hadn't even heard them come in.

A squeal is what woke me up. It came from right above me on the bed. It wasn't at all like the squeal Mary'd let out last time. This one sounded full of shock and pain, but m.u.f.fled as if her mouth were covered. It ended quick.

The bed kept shaking. I heard wet, smacking sounds. And grunts like a man putting a lot of energy behind his work.

Blood started to drip off the edge of the bed and splash the floor beside me. It looked purple and s.h.i.+ny in the firelight.