“Of course”, said Tamara, “but now be serious please.” “I am being serious,” said Jan while opening the wardrobe where all the work outfits hung. “I can’t quite pin down his state of mind so I don’t know what would best for you to wear. Nothing too aggressive so leather is out and after what happened I don’t think he needs sex so nothing too skimpy.” “First tell me more,” says Tamara, “I can pick out something myself when I know more about what to expect when I see him.” Jan continued. According to Fred, his wife had seen the bank statements and noticed he withdrew a specific amount every week. At breakfast this morning, she asked him about it. Fred was stunned. At this point in telling the story Fred became emotional, screaming that she had never meddled or showed any interest in their finances, including when or on what he spent money on. Fred was a normal, hard-working family man and a good father, and his wife wanted for nothing. Everyone in the brothel knew this. Apparently, his wife suddenly felt a need to look at the bank statements and saw that he withdrew 250 euro each and every week. Expertly lopping off the top of her boiled egg with a knife she had worked up enough courage to ask Fred what he spent that 250 euro on every week. The flowers he brought her every Friday afternoon couldn’t be so expensive? She looked at him questioningly while sprinkling salt on her egg. Utterly ashamed Fred went slowly red.
For years he has been coming to the brothel, usually on Thursdays but sometimes Fridays. He had a couple women that he saw regularly, preferring someone under 20 dressed in pastel coloured lingerie with a bit of lace. Sometimes he asked for black high heels and a tight-fitting leather dress. He found a little SM play exciting but nothing too over the top. He was never a difficult client and Tamara was happy to see him. No crazy fantasies and always friendly. “Did he tell you all that, about the egg and everything?” asked Tamara. “Interesting details,” she mused with a giggle. Jan continued: “One way or another she had overheard something. Probably at the shopping centre. And had let it eat at her for days. She told Fred she had heard rumours that a couple of men from town were seen visiting a certain brothel in the city and that he was one of those men.” “Aha,” said Tamara. “And that brothel is this modest establishment?” With a bemused smile she tries to imagine the scene at the breakfast table. While it’s unfortunate for them both she has little to say about it. It’s not her fault that people make such a complicated thing out of it at home. She knows that Fred and his wife don’t have an easy relationship and that the visits with her or her colleagues helps to take a bit of the pressure off him so that he can just be normal with his family.
Jan sighed and said: “Apparently things got out of hand after that. His wife became hysterical and attacked him, causing Fred to fall back on his chair almost choking on the piece of bread he was eating. It took a while before he was able to stand up again. Once he crawled back upright he saw his wife standing over him with the knife she had just used to cut him a slice of bread and as he went to defend himself the knife ended up in her neck. Looking at him accusingly she bled to death while he just kept saying how sorry he was. That’s more or less the story he told me and then he started crying again and wouldn’t say anything else except that he wanted to see you.” “Jesus, what now”, said Tamara. “If it’s all true then in a few minutes I’ll be sitting with a murderer in that lovely basement of yours. By the way, doesn’t he have blood all over him?” Jan grabbed a pair of high heel shoes while looking through the closet for a modest but not too sexy black lingerie outfit and mentioned that he hadn’t noticed. “Go downstairs and see what the situation is,” he said. Heading into the hall Tamara opened the door to the once normal basement. “I’ll make you some breakfast”, whispered Jan after her. She wanted to say that she would really like a boiled egg but managed just in time to keep that to herself.
Read the last part next week!