Peter Robinson - Not Safe After Dark

So I wasn’t at all surprised when she came to me in tears about six months after her marriage.

‘Dry your eyes, dear,’ I said to her, ‘and let’s walk in the garden.’ It was a beautiful spring day, with a warm gentle breeze wafting the scents of flowers through the mild air.

‘I can’t go on,’ she said.

‘What’s wrong?’

‘It’s Angelo.’

‘What about him?’

‘He doesn’t love me any more.’

He never did love her, I could have said, but I held my tongue. I doubted that was what she wanted to hear at the moment. ‘What makes you think that?’ I asked.

She looked around, then leaned in towards me and lowered her voice. ‘He has other women.’

I could have laughed out loud. Just about every husband in Vienna has other women. I suspect even my own duke has one from time to time, but if it spares me the friar’s costume and the Latin vespers for a night, who am I to complain? But Mariana, I could see, was really upset. ‘It’s just men, Mariana,’ I told her. ‘They’re like that. They can’t help themselves. It’s their nature. Every time they see an attractive woman they just have to conquer her.’

‘But am I not attractive?’

‘That’s neither here nor there. You’re his wife . That’s all that counts.’

‘Yes, I am his wife, so why does he have to sleep with other women? I’ll sleep with him any time he wants. I’ll do anything he wants me to, even if it hurts me, even that disgusting thing with the-’

‘Mariana! I told you, it’s just their nature. You’ll have to learn to live with it or your life will be a very unhappy one.’

‘But I am unhappy already. I can’t live with it. I want to die.’

I took her arm. ‘Don’t be so histrionic, Mariana,’ I said. ‘You’ll get used to it.’

She broke away. ‘I won’t! Never! I want to die. I’m going to kill myself.’

I sighed. ‘Over a man? There must be better reasons. Look, who is this woman he’s been seeing?’

Mariana looked at me. Her eyes were so full of pain that my heart cried for her, even though I thought she was being foolish. ‘It’s not just one woman.’

‘How many?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘Two, three?’

‘I told you. I don’t know.’

‘You must have some idea. Is it three, four, or five?’

‘About three. I think that’s about right.’

‘So he’s sleeping with three other women?’

‘Three a week. Yes.’

‘ What? ’

‘He has them sent to him. There’s a man called Pandarus, a Greek I think, a despicable human being, and Angelo pays him to procure young women. Usually young virgins from the provinces who are new in town and haven’t settled into employment. They’re so young. They don’t… I mean they don’t all know what to expect.’

‘He forces them?’

Mariana nodded. ‘I’ve heard cries. Screams, sometimes, and he swears they will die terribly if they ever speak of what happened.’

Mariana’s story was starting to interest me. I had heard of this Pandarus, though I had never met him, and I knew that he affected a respectable enough surface and was able to move among varying levels of society. Procuring wasn’t new to Vienna, even among the higher echelons – nothing to do with sex is new to Vienna – but this Pandarus intrigued me all the same. ‘How do you know all this?’ I asked.

‘A dear friend told me. She had a conversation with one… with one of the girls.’

‘And you’re certain it’s true?’

Mariana nodded. ‘One night I lay in wait, hiding in the bushes, and watched. We have always had separate quarters, and Angelo maintains the same chamber he used… do you remember, that night when I went to him in your stead?’

I nodded. It wasn’t a memory I cared to dwell on. Not one of my finest moments.

‘They come in the darkest of night, and he burns no candles. Everything is just as it was that night.’

‘I see,’ I said. I had hated Angelo long and deeply enough for what he had inflicted on me that, even as we spoke, the beginnings of a plan began to form itself effortlessly in my mind.

‘What can I do, dear Isabel? Pray, tell me, what can I do?’

I took her hand. ‘Do nothing,’ I said. ‘At least not for the moment. I know it pains you, but bear with it. I’m certain there’s a solution and I promise that your suffering will come to an end ere long.’

Her eyes widened and lit up at that little sliver of hope. ‘Really? You promise? Oh, Isabel, is it possible I can be happy again?’

‘We’ll see,’ I said, busy thinking. ‘We’ll see.’

I was finally satisfied enough with my changed appearance and the peasant clothes I had painstakingly made to venture out into the city streets in the guise of a country girl seeking employment. Through further, cautious questioning of Mariana, I had already determined that Pandarus tended to prey on his victims in the busy public square near the coach station, often approaching them the very moment they arrived in the city. He had, I imagined, a skilled eye and knew exactly who was vulnerable to his approach and who best to leave alone. I affected to look lost and weak, and on my second visit a man came up to me. His clothes and his bearing signified a certain level of wealth and influence in society, and his general manner was that of a gentleman.

‘Are you new here?’ he asked.

‘Me?’ I responded shyly, keeping my head down. ‘Yes, sir.’

‘Where are you from?’

I named a distant village I had once heard one of my husband’s ministers mention.

‘And what, may I ask, brings you to Vienna?’

‘I seek employment, sir.’

‘You do, do you? And what skills do you possess?’

‘I can cook, sir, and wash, and mend clothes.’

‘Valuable skills, indeed. Come, walk with me.’

I couldn’t just go with him, not that easily. I had to play the shy country girl. ‘I cannot, sir.’

‘Cannot? Why not?’

‘I don’t know, sir. It just seems so… forward. I don’t know you.’

‘Forward? Walking alongside a perfect gentleman in a public place?’ He smiled. He really did have a warm smile, the kind that leads you to trust a person. ‘Come, come, don’t be silly.’

So I walked beside him. He offered his arm, but I didn’t take it. That didn’t seem to upset him too much. ‘You know, I think I might be able to help you,’ he said, stroking his moustache.

‘Help me, sir? You mean you require my services?’

He laughed. ‘Me? Oh, no. Not me. A friend of mine. And I will speak for you.’

‘But you don’t know me, sir. How can you speak for me? You don’t even know my name.’

He stopped walking and put his fingers under my chin, lifting my face. He was taller than I, so I had to look up, though I tried to keep my eyes down under my fluttering lashes. I felt myself blush. ‘I am an excellent judge of character,’ he said. ‘I believe you to be an honest country maiden, and I believe you are exactly what he has in mind.’ He let me go and carried on walking. This time I picked up my pace to keep up with him, showing interest. ‘He does, however, have one peculiarity I must mention,’ he went on.

‘What might that be, sir?’

‘He prefers to conduct his business at night.’

‘That is strange, indeed, sir.’

He shrugged. ‘It is a mere trifle.’

‘If you say so, sir.’ As a country girl, I could, of course, have no idea of the ways of city folk.

‘So, should you be interested – and he is a most kind, considerate and bountiful master – you must go to him through his garden at night and he will acquaint you with his needs. You need have no fears. He is an honourable man, and I shall be close by.’