THE COUNTESS AND I

As a former lover of the Countess Lobinska , I should know the truth. After all, for a number of years I was closer to her (in more ways than one) than anyone else. Now I am no longer her lover I am not bitter. You must believe this otherwise my story gains no credence.

            I was lucky in that I came into her life when her marriage was at a low ebb.. She entered my office  that spring morning to get some financial advice about an investment  she had in mind. Allied to her astute mind was an attractive figure and handsome face. She would then be in her early fifties and  very soignee.

We discussed some  preliminary details. But I wanted to see more of her as soon as possible. I confess, I was smitten.  My  suggestion to talk about the proposals over a lunch was received  without demur . Son I was seeing her frequently and not always in public. In return for financial advice and a degree of reliability she had not found in her husband  I, on looking back, was enjoying a sex life with a well healed , eye-catching woman. That she enjoyed it too was undeniable . She was enthusiastic about her love-making. The fact that I was ten years younger never seemed to be of any moment. I was unmarried at the time (divorced) and I suppose eligible in so far as I had a good job in the city with access to financial and business institutions.  Her late husband it seemed had been frequently out of the country on some sort of business – or so he claimed. This left her feeling rather neglected and unhappy but gave her the opportunity  to indulge in “affairs”. mostly of short duration , with some impunity. I lasted longer than most! I soon realised that she was out to use me , but I did not care. For that matter , I still don`t.

            She was already a woman  with a past when I met her. A few years before she had been acquitted at the Old Bailey of killing (no less) the husband she had grown to hate.

            “The Prosecution failed to convince. And the Jury voted accordingly.” Juliette intoned in that mature, matter-of-fact  voice that had impressed the Court. We had just made love and Juliette was in a relaxed , expansive mood.

            “You got away with it, really, didn`t you, darling?” I asked half in  jest, half seriously.

            “Don`t be so bloody stupid, Peter. (She always called me Peter although my real name is Piers – which she didn`t like.) “I was found not guilty , wasn`t I? So I must have been innocent .” Her voice betrayed profound annoyance. “I was wrongly thought to be implicated , and so-called evidence linking me to the crime  was planted. …maybe by the real culprit or by someone who believed they had imagined cause….”

            I could well imagine someone having sufficient cause! But I did not express an opinion at this juncture.

            It flattered me to think here was this woman of the world who was so infatuated with me that she felt she could talk uninhibitedly about a dark l passage in her life.

            As far as I could recollect  (at the time of the trial I hadn`t taken much notice of the details) the Countess Lobinska, as she became by marriage, although she herself  was from an aristocratic family, was charged with involvement in her husband`s murder. Apparently, the Earl had been killed by an unknown assassin , believed to be an infatuated lover , who had managed to flee the country. It was widely believed  that Juliette had talked her then lover into this incident and that consequently she had been the motivating force  behind the murder. The lover had not been heard of since.

            “Josef  [her late husband;] had made many enemies in his social and business life.  I did not try to hide from the Court  the disappointment in my private life nor did I pretend to a grief I did not feel. …it`s not in my nature  to  dissemble.”

            I wondered about the last claim. Her deep blue eyes never once were turned  towards me but seemed to be fixed on the ceiling. She kept her face in profile throughout the narrative, her curly, dark hair, framing her attractive features. She lay on her back in the bed, her full breasts making sexy mounds of the bedclothes.. I remained by her side propped up on one elbow, gazing at her, admiring her body , listening intently.  

            “Mike wanted my husband out of the way . He – no-one  else – determined to kill Josef. He didn`t need my help. He was a strong minded character who….made his own arrangements .”

            The faint blush on Juliette`s cheeks deepened when she became animated .It showed now but whether from revealing the truth or concealing it  I was not to know.

            “Mike had made several threats to get rid of my husband . I tried to talk him out of it , but in vain, as you know, and…..”

            “But you did take him seriously….in his intent, I mean” . I made an effort to get some clarification.

            “Of course I took him seriously. He was completely in love with me….he would have done anything. And did do. On the few occasions Josef , my husband, was home , he spent most of his time riding. Mike must have been waiting in the stables for him . When Josef had not appeared I went out to see if anything had happened. My husband had been bludgeoned to death …struck repeatedly …it was dreadful. Naturally I intended to inform the police. But before I could do so , Mike arrived , told me what he had done, and said that I could now provide the agreed alibi for him…..that he was with me  all the  time as a family friend. Naturally  I would have none of it and made this clear.

            `But this is what we  wanted , Juliette, ` he said. `Now Josef is out of the way   we can lead our lives as we have always wished. The police will think he was attacked by ……robbers….or by his enemies. Julie `– his pet name for me

`what are you DOING?`  His voice rose in agitation. He had overestimated  my affection for him  and I had underestimated his murderous resolve.

            `Get away while you can , Paul,` I said – before the police come. I`ll not tell them it was you . Now I must phone.`

            He ran from the house and I have never seen him since. I have never forgiven him for what he did…..and the trouble he landed me in ….I was dragged through the Courts, put on trial for murder , would you believe….me! “

Somehow   I never did swallow Juliette`s version of the story.  For one thing it would have been quite consonant with her character to plot a killing and then to renege on the bargain when the deed was done. For another thing there were too many loose ends ; and I did not like the way she never looked at me throughout the story with those blue eyes that could be so hard and cold. But the Jury`s verdict is what counts….As for me at  the time  - I loved her and nothing else mattered; besides, what she was telling me was all in the past…;it was  history. Juliette might be notorious in some people`s eyes, but in mine she was a glamorous figure, who had brought excitement into my life. What was more  the fact of having been acquitted of the murder meant that she retained intact all her husband`s wealth including their mansion home…….House, in Berkshire. So I had every incentive to go along with her account.

Soon after this display of confidence in me she broached the subject of her extremely wealthy aunt. It was one evening after dinner (splendid , as usual) when we  were both in expansive mood , drinking brandy, and feeling very relaxed. I was smoking expensive cigars  - she did not smoke – of which she kept a liberal supply.  She curled up closer to me on the elegant settee, part of the tasteful and decorative suite in the beautifully furnished and decorated large room. She looked particularly alluring that  night ,. wearing  her latest creation, a long pink dress , strategically low cut to reveal (to others)  - we had earlier been to the theatre – a tantalising glimpse of shapely breasts. She must have sensed the time was ripe. And as events proved, she was not mistaken.

“Peter, you know my aunt, or at least you know of her, Lady Yardley? Well, she is very wealthy of course and getting on in years. I wondered whether we  could interest her in an investment, should we call it. You with your expertise….”

“My expertise? What are you suggesting , darling?” The tone of her voice , the flickering of her eyelids, the sideways look from those deep blue eyes , told it all. I realised at once that what she was suggesting was not something that would pass the bar of ethics. She made no attempt to dissemble, but warmed to her theme. Obviously she had given  the scheme a good deal of thought.

“If you could convince her, with my help of course., that here was a good thing  …..something sure fire  that would bring in very good returns. We could get her to part with about a couple of million….a good deal anyway. We could….”

I broke in , “In other words , you want me t set up a bogus company , an investment corporation….”

“Yes, something like that . You will won`t you ?  She`d never realise….at her age….anything could happen.”

The proposal was mad, preposterous. But I thought we might just get away with it. Nevertheless, my heart was ruling my head , I acknowledged. I found it impossible to to deny this alluring woman , who was now turning her blue eyes upon me , with her beautiful beguiling smile and hands that were beginning to roam about my body. Fatally and irrevocably I said yes. 

A few days later we went to see Lady Yardley. She was in her eighties but well preserved. She had been a widow for some dozen years. Mentally she was all there, and indeed physically apart from some  arthritis. Judging from the general air of opulence, the grand house, the servants and the garages, there was little she lacked  - save perhaps some guidance as to how  to make  quick returns on capital!

Juliette led persuasively into the  theme, introducing me as a type of city high-flier with a good deal of financial nous. The burden of the conversation  was that I , as the Director of the finance house, would be  willing to accept investments  (on specially favourable terms to early investors) such as herself, and guarantee profitable , quick returns…..”within the year , at the latest”.

Pre-armed with  suitably headed paper , cards, etc., I played the part to the full, outlining the investment scheme, in which Juliette was of course already a committed participant and had the (bogus) papers to prove it. Lady Yardley was one  of those women who had never had to bother with the murky world of business ventures , having always been too comfortably off to worry, and  when things had to be done they were always done by the males of the family. After a few visits, some on my own, I came away with the promise of some £2 million to be invested in my (bogus)  Corporation. My first attempt as a conman  (on a large scale) had been successful. I was quite proud of myself…but if I had to do it all by myself…..

“My aunt has some gold bars in the house!”  Juliette burst  in  after one of her growingly more frequent visits to her relative. “They are in the safe ….she hardly looks at them ….I know where she keeps the key!” Breathless with excitement , glowing with anticipation at her own daring ,  Juliette  flopped into an armchair, exposing momentarily a length of shapely thigh, a hint of pink panties. Intoxicated  by her enthusiasm, I listened eagerly to her latest plan. I knelt down by the side of her armchair and  kissed her neck. It all sounded very interesting .. I was hooked. .

It was as simple as it sounded. A few days later we both visited upon supposed business. While I kept the elderly lady talking, my accomplice took the key and opened the safe. Half a dozen gold ingots! Juliette`s turn now to engage aunt while I loaded the ingots into the car. With a bit of luck Aunt Yardley would never discover the loss.

The promised cheque was paid into the fraudulent company and for a time Juliette and I lived the life of Riley – and a lucky man he was! After a year or two, disappointingly , Lady  Yardley was as hale and hearty as ever, frail though she had seemed on first acquaintance. Moreover, she was beginning to ask questions about her investment. We, that is Juliette and I , had hoped to pay out some dividends to keep the Lady sweet , by judicious wheeler-dealing , dodgy investments off our own bat, perhaps even some gambling. Unfortunately for us these plans had come to nothing – or very little. Lady Yardley became suspicious and consulted a firm of solicitors, with the result that …..Corporation , which meant myself and Juliette , came under legal investigation.  

Eventually, the due process of law caught up with both of us. We were jointly charged  with illegally inveigling Lady Yardley with intent to defraud  into investing the sum of  £2 million in a bogus company of which I , Piers Ashton, claimed to be the managing director  and Countess Lobinska a share holder and an investor. We were jointly found guilty and sentenced to six years imprisonment , but released  after three for good conduct.

Juliette was in some open prison in the Midlands and I in a sort of semi-open establishment in Kent. Apparently she left prison in the dead of night  presumably to avoid newsmen. Although knowing that I would be released about the same time,  she did not get in touch.

Astute as ever, her master stroke I now realise, was to get herself declared a bankrupt while behind bars. To the world she was now penniless and entitled to state benefits.! Her mansion……House was recently sold at a cut-price £1 million which will go to her aunt`s estate, the redoubtable lady having died a couple of years ago.

One of the journalist on the paper to which I am telling/selling my story, was present when Juliette left a London hotel later on the day of her release.

“She looked pale and drawn . Ignoring our questions , like what are you going to do now, Countess, and such like, she hurried into a large blue Mercedes , hiding her face. She was driven away by two men in suede jackets.”

“So she  never said a thing……gave any message…..any indication at all of where she was going?” – mine was a forlorn hope.

Naturally, the question of the reputedly missing gold bars  excited some interest . on the part of the police. It was never clearly established that there were any such bars and the theft or otherwise of them did not as a consequence, figure much in the Court`s deliberations. Neither my lover nor I made any  allusion to them in Court of course.  What I did know was that we had locked them up in Juliette`s safe  - in the event of a rainy day , which had come, I believed , when we were incarcerated -–or rather when we were once again free. At least we had , we believed , these to fall back on : they were worth millions!

When police searched the house  and grounds for the gold they found nothing, however. Naturally I expected Juliette to contact me eventually over the hoard; at least within a few weeks or even months…after the dust had settled. The fact that the police had found nothing could only mean that she had spirited them away into safekeeping  in some foreign land where we could lay  our hands on them when the time was ripe.

The sequel is less happy.  – for me at least. I have been told that Juliette is now living abroad  in the sun (but where, I do not know) in a large house complete with swimming pool, tennis court, mini-gym etc., ….in some style for an undischarged bankrupt. A lifestyle that could be supported by the sale of a few gold bars, say. Apparently she is not living alone. Her live-in companion is the killer of her husband; the one who had to leave the mansion in a hurry some years ago – her erstwhile lover, Paul!

As for me I am still jobless, living on social security, with only memories to cling to. Anyone else like to buy my story?

(I could embellish it for popular consumption!)

© A.B. Finlay Ph.D