• Choose a category
• All
• Classic-Fiction

By Root 1380 0

stood laughing and chatting. Once again he had been thwarted. Another woman walked past, and he followed her. She was dark-skinned and looked ill. She wore a thin shawl and was obviously very poor; she walked slowly, on her way to some thankless, underpaid job, no doubt; she was certainly in no rush to get there. She looked desperately sad. Jacques had chosen his victim and walked after her. He was in no hurry. He was looking for a place where it would be easy to attack her. She must have noticed that she was being followed because she turned and looked at him, with a look of unspeakable sadness, amazed that anyone should want anything from her. He followed her along the Rue du Havre. Twice she turned to look at him, making him hold back as he was taking his knife out to stab her. She had such a pathetic, pleading look in her eyes. He decided he would wait until she stepped off the pavement a little further on. That was where he would strike. Then suddenly he turned round and began to follow another woman, who was walking in the opposite direction. There was no reason why; it was not something he chose to do. She simply happened to be walking past at the time.

He followed her back towards the station. She walked quickly, with little, short steps, her shoes tapping on the pavement; she was extremely pretty, twenty years old at the most, very shapely, with blonde hair and beautiful bright eyes that seemed to have a permanent smile in them. She didn’t even notice that someone was following her. She must have been in a hurry because she ran up the steps from the Cour du Havre into the main hall, dashed over to the booking office for the circle line and hurriedly ordered a first-class ticket to Auteuil. Jacques did likewise and followed her through the waiting rooms and out on to the platform to her compartment. He got in and sat beside her. The train left at once.

‘I’ve got plenty of time,’ he thought. ‘I’ll kill her in the tunnel.’

Sitting opposite them, however, was an old lady, the only other passenger in the compartment. She recognized the young woman.

‘Why, fancy seeing you!’ she exclaimed. ‘Where are you off to so early?’

The young woman raised her hands in a gesture of mock despair.

‘You can’t do anything without running into someone, can you?’ she said with a laugh. ‘I hope you won’t give me away ... It’s my husband’s birthday tomorrow. I waited for him to leave for the office and caught the first train I could. I’m going to Auteuil. There’s a market garden there where he saw an orchid that he really wanted ... I’m going to buy it for him as a surprise.’

The old lady nodded approvingly.

‘And how’s the little baby?’ she asked.

‘She’s a joy! I weaned her last week. You should see her eat her soup! In fact we’re all very well. It’s scandalous!’

She laughed again, more loudly, showing her white teeth between her blood-red lips. Jacques was sitting on her right, holding the knife hidden against his leg. He was in just the right position to stab her, he thought to himself. All he had to do was raise his arm and turn towards her; it would be perfect. But as the train ran into the Batignolles tunnel he thought of her bonnet-strings. They’re tied under her chin, he thought. They’ll get in the way. I want to be certain.

The two women chatted happily away to each other.

‘I can see you’re very happy.’

‘Happy! I’ve never felt happier! It’s like a dream come true! Two years ago I was nothing. Do you remember? It was so dull living with my aunt, and I didn’t have a penny to my name. When he came to see me my heart would be all of a flutter. I was so in love with him. He was so handsome and so rich ... And now he’s mine! He’s my husband! And we’ve got our little baby! I can’t believe it!’

Jacques was carefully inspecting the way her bonnet-strings were tied. He saw that beneath the knot she wore a large gold medallion on a black neckband. He worked out what he was going to do.

‘I’ll grab her by the neck with my left hand and turn her head round so that the medallion’s not in the way,’ he thought to himself. ‘Then I can