I didn't know him, but I often saw him in the town, buying fresh bread or bottles of wine. He always smiled as we passed in the street. I'll remember his kind face, big bushy beard and his clothes. His clothes were always covered with oil paint of many colours. It's difficult to believe he is gone as he was such a kindly old gentleman.
Once or twice, I went to the small art exhibition he held in the local hall. I never spoke to him but he seemed well-liked and well-respected. His wife was much younger than him, and the gossip was that she married him for his money, although others believed she loved him for his artistic talent. But now she is gone too. Her fiery red hair and colourful clothes were easy to spot around town. I often saw her going to the bank or ATM machine.
Their cottage was a little way out of town. It was a very secluded place. I thought they had gone away on holiday and I went up to the cottage to take a look around. I entered through the kitchen door. There was no sound and I went upstairs. It took a long time, but I found where he kept his money. I also found lots of her expensive jewellery. But suddenly, he was standing behind me, shouting. I turned round in surprise and my shotgun just fired. It was all so quick, I didn't mean to kill him. She was in the doorway and recognized me. I chased her downstairs and shot her in the garden behind the cottage. I didn't want to do it, but I had no choice. They were such a nice couple.