Of Night and Dark Obscurity

They stared at each other for several seconds and then Val took a deep breath and then sighed.

“So, Mr. Bowler. Let’s start from the beginning. Shall we?”

Chapter 15

Lyle Bowler touched the sketch of Irene and looked up at Val and then back down again at the sketch. He touched it lovingly and then pushed it from him.

“What do you want to know?” He asked begrudgingly.

Val smiled. “Everything. And unlike your alter ego Mr. Sawyer from the Pickwick Papers, I’d prefer to hear Mr. Bowler’s story.”

“Smart one, ain’t you?”

“Possibly. But you did this to yourself by getting arrested. I’m sure you were down and out after running from Mr. Eastoft’s employ and leaving your lodgings.”

“What could I do? I knew your lot was after me.”

“Did you kill Irene Derry?” Val asked watching him closely.

“Kill Irene? Of course not. I loved Irene!” He said vehemently.

The last words were said with such emotion that Val didn’t doubt the feeling behind them. He looked over the non-descript man with brown hair and brown eyes and wondered how this had all begun.

Val nodded. “All right. Let’s hear the story. From the beginning when you first met Irene Derry.”

Lyle Bowler sighed and smiled. “She was lovely. I saw her for the first time when I had to deliver some papers from Mr. Eastoft to a neighbor of theirs. She was getting out of the carriage and she was laughing. I asked the footman who she was and he told me. Her name was Irene Derry. The youngest daughter of the physician Hubert Derry.”

Lyle continued. “I wasn’t proud of myself but I followed her. I think it was love at first sight. And she was a lovely sight. Almost a balm for my soul.”

Val cringed inwardly. Jesus! He had a pick pocketing poet on his hands.

Lyle smiled. “I arranged to meet her accidentally at a coffeehouse I found that she and her friend frequented. When we met, she smiled at me and I knew then that I could never have her as I was. I was a measly clerk in a small office. I was nothing. So, I took on the persona of Simon Eastoft.”

“You pretended to be him?”

“Yes, and it was easy. Mr. Eastoft never went anywhere or did anything. He’s a quiet man and he lives the same. I knew I could pretend I was him and go to the parties and balls to catch a glimpse of her. She was charming. Little by little I became known to her and soon that blossomed.”

“What happened?” Val asked.

“There was an event at someone’s country estate. I don’t remember the name. There was croquet, canoeing, swimming. I slipped onto the property and pretended to belong. No one questioned me. Irene was there surrounded by admirers. She was able to get away later on in the afternoon when the older women were napping. We went down by the lakeside,” Lyle recalled.

“Go on,” Val waited.

“We became lovers. She was eager to please and very spirited. I realized too late that while I was falling in love, she was just passing the time.”

“That must have made you very angry,” Val asked.

“No. It wasn’t like that.” He argued.

“How did the posing for the sketch begin?”

Lyle nodded. “That was the beginning of the end.”

“Tell me.”

“I went to École des Beaux-Arts in France. I studied and wanted to be an artist but I could not make a living of it so I became a clerk. I had given up being an artist when I met Irene. She became my muse. I had to capture her in my art. I asked her to sit for me. Several times she came to my room and I sketched her. It was during this time that she became distant. We argued.” He shook his head.

“What did you argue about?”