MURDER BY SUICIDE

by S FEATES

  With my new found fortune I moved into a new luxury apartment and made plans for my future. The landlady who owned the block of apartments in Brentwood, Essex was an old acquaintance of Tony Nolan. Sylvie Braxton had made her fortune as a high class escort working out of an apartment in Kensington, earning as much as five hundred pounds an hour at her peak. She had decided from an early age that she liked sex, was very good at it and that she could make money from it. Listed among her clientele were princes and politicians, showbiz stars and sports stars. It was not unusual for her to be invited to stay on a playboys yacht or for weekends in Monaco and Dubai by her rich clients. The gifts and tips she received were worth a small fortune on their own. As she grew older and when she had enough 'fuck you' money to give up the life of a prostitute she invested it in property. She was in her mid fifties and still a fine looking woman, her raven hair and smooth skin belied her real age. Her figure had never been surgically enhanced, she didn't believe in it, and she certainly didn't need it as she worked out regularly at the gym to keep it trim. Sylvie Braxton was most definitely a fine looking woman and she knew it!

  Sylvie had taken a shine to me and from her body language and suggestive remarks there was a good chance that as well as being my landlady there was an opportunity to get my leg over. I didn't need the tie of a wife or girlfriend, not in the business I was embarking on, likewise, after the host of men in her life, she desired no permanent partner either but we both needed the occasional 'home comforts'. The best thing was, she lived in the penthouse apartment on the top floor so she was always available at short notice. She also loved cats as much as Tony Nolan.

  I now had to work out my next move. It was all well and good setting yourself up as an assassin but you needed two things to succeed. Clients and a trustworthy go between. You couldn't stick an ad in the personal column of a newspaper asking if anybody wanted somebody taken care of. The other decision I made was that if I was going to kill people I liked the idea of making it look like suicide. If I could pull it off it would stop the police from looking too hard for foul play. Difficult to achieve but not impossible. I decided to consult the grieving widower for advice.

  Tony Nolan was in high spirits when I called to see him, he had just received some good news. His wife's will had been read and he had been left everything, house, land, money and shares. The wealthy man had become even richer. He was now sitting in his plush new office in the city. It was a far cry from his humble beginnings in Hackney.

  ''Steve, come in son. Sit down and I will get you a drink.'' He waved me to a leather chair by his desk as he walked over to the drinks cabinet.

  This was a first, a friendly welcome and a free drink. I was worried. ''Thanks for seeing me at such short notice Mr Nolan.''

  ''Nonsense, you are welcome. Please call me Anthony.'' He said as he handed me a large glass with what looked and smelt like very expensive cognac inside.

  ''What can I do for you?''

  Christ! Anthony now is it, spending time with the landed gentry has gone to his head. I relaxed back into the chair, a sip from the glass had sent a warm feeling down my insides and settled any nerves I had when I came in. ''I want to ask your advice on a career move.''

  ''I see. And what makes you think I am the right man to hand out advice to you,'' he took a sip from his glass and glanced at his Rolex, he had people to see and hoped this wouldn't take too long, ''what career are you thinking about. Not fucking gambling I hope.'' Nolan laughed at the absurdity of the suggestion.

  ''No, course not. Lesson learnt on that one. No I am thinking of becoming a professional hitman actually and so far it's been a success.''

  Nolan's face was a picture, his mouth fell open and he slumped back in his chair, for a minute I thought he was having a heart attack. Then he burst out laughing as he slapped his hand on the desk in front of him.

  ''Are you sure son?'' He had recovered from the shock and was now laughing hysterically. ''You kill one person and you now think your fucking Murder Inc. Seriously Steve go find a real job, you were lucky and got away with one. Don't push your luck.''

  I was disappointed with his attitude and negative reply. I had to show him I meant business, it was time for the proposal.

  ''You are a respected man Mr...Anthony. You have contacts and associates who perhaps require the services I am offering to provide. Give me the opportunity to prove myself, at no risk to you, and if I succeed you introduce me to the right people. If I fail I will walk away and find another career.'' I waited for a response.

  Nolan sat with his fingers steepled under his chin deep in thought. I was expecting him to laugh and tell me to fuck off but I was surprised by the answer he eventually gave. I was also very worried.

  ''You're right I do have respect and the contacts but I didn't get them by taking a punt on every half arsed idea that was presented to me. But I like you and you have done right by me so here's what I am going to do.''

  Opening a drawer and pulling out a piece of paper he handed it to me and said, ''this is a bill of sale for a very rare and very expensive Siamese kitten. I found it amongst my wife's papers when I was clearing out her things. Strange thing is there was no kitten in the house. You didn't see a cat there when you were there did you Steve?''

  I felt like I had guilt written all over my face. It was a shock to me and if I cracked now I would have had the shortest career in the history of professional hitmen. How could I have been so stupid. I had the cat sitting at home in my apartment and to compound the problem my landlady was a good friend of the man who was now asking if I'd seen it. What else could I do.

  ''No Anthony never saw any signs of a cat. I don't like the poxy things, too independent for their own good, don't trust em.'' I hoped I sounded convincing. Anyway I had grown very fond of the cat and I was keeping it, Jackie was my lucky charm so damn the consequences.

  Nolan looked annoyed and threw the paperwork over the desk to me and said, ''I love cats, always have so don't disrespect them, not in my presence anyway. Nobody saw this kitten which leads me to two conclusions. Either the cat escaped while you were taking care of business or the man who sold it to Jackie still has it because she hasn't collected it yet.'' He studied my face for any kind of reaction as he explained his theories but he was disappointed.

  I studied the paperwork which turned out to be a bill of sale for a pedigree male Siamese kitten. When I saw the price paid I grabbed the glass and drained it. £15,000 for a bloody kitten they had to be having a laugh. Nolan saw my shocked reaction and stood up.

  ''Come over here son I want to show you something in the other room.'' He walked across the room and opened the door to a small anteroom.

  My first thought was that he had seen through me and I was going to be taken for a ride and not coming back. I had no choice so I got up and followed him through the door. What I saw in that room only served to increase my anxiety. Sitting on a leather sofa were three Siamese kittens all about the same age and identical markings as my little Jackie. One jumped down and ran over to Nolan and rubbed itself against him until he picked it up. The other two watched the interaction but decided not to join their sibling.

  ''This is Sheba, she's a beauty isn't she.'' He held her out so that I could see her closely. The ice blue eyes stared at me, willing me to break down and admit I had been lying to its master.

  ''Very cute.'' I said backing away.

  ''I paid Forty grand for these little girls,'' he said matter of factly, like he had just spent a few quid on a round of drinks. ''These three cats were sired by world championship winning parents, they are rare and expensive because of that pedigree. The thing is the litter numbered not three but four kittens, three were female but the other was a male. That male is worth a small fortune because the stud fees alone from that cat would run into tens of thousands, there is huge interest in cats out in the far east and surprisingly over in Russia too.'' Nolan placed the kitten back down on the sofa and walked back into the office.

  Pou
ring me another cognac he continued, ''I don't know how the litter got separated but I had been searching for that fourth kitten for a long time and it seems my beloved wife had already found it and purchased it as a surprise for me. I would really like to find out where that cat is.''

  She must really have thought the world of Tony to spend that much on a surprise I thought. All the more tragic that she had to die. ''I didn't know you were a cat lover Anthony.''

  ''Oh yes, goes back generations, all the Nolan's have been affiliated to cat societies and associations. My dear old Gran used to show them all over the country, that's where I got my passion for them, through her.'' He was lost in the memory. ''She specialised in Persian cats, they were her favourite breed. Did you know that the ancient Egyptians worshipped cats, thought they were divine and sent from the Gods. Temples were even constructed to them and they were frequently mummified, which was a great honour.''

  Nolan was off on one and I needed to get to the point and get out of there as soon as possible so I took a chance and interrupted his ramble. ''So how can I be of assistance in this matter?''

  ''I want you to go and see this chap, David Graham and find out what's what. The address is on the paper, it's over in Kent so not too far to go. I want to know where the cat is, whether he was just scamming my missus or if there is just a misunderstanding. If he is pulling a fast one then I want you to take care of him, if you know what I mean. I don't want it coming back on me though or you will be helping to hold up a flyover somewhere, got it.'' The threat was obvious as was the instructions. ''If you do this I will introduce you to a man that will take you under his wing and help you with your new career. I am going legit, I am buying a casino in Park Lane, the owner doesn't know it yet but he will be selling up. I will be leaving my life of crime behind so consider this a parting gift. Now run along, you've made me late for a very important meeting. Make sure you keep me informed.''

  I didn't need telling twice, grabbing the paperwork I hastily said thanks and left sharpish.

  3

  Back in my apartment I found Jackie waiting to greet me. Out of curiosity and to confirm what I already knew I picked him up and checked between his back legs. Yes, there they were, the crown jewels. Definitely a tom. Shit! I needed to sort this before it cost me big time. I had a germ of an idea but it would be a miracle to pull it off.

  The doorbell rang and when I opened it, Sylvie was standing there dressed in a fur coat and smelling very nice. As soon as I opened the door she brushed past me into the apartment slipping off the coat as she went. She was wearing nothing but a smile underneath, she headed straight for the bedroom. I shut the door and followed the heady trail of perfume. She was already in the bed when I entered the bedroom.

  ''You cut straight to the chase love,'' I said as I slipped out of my clothes and jumped in beside her.

  ''Can't hang about, this perfume is two hundred quid a pop so make the most of it stud before it wears off.''

  It was another world I had entered, two hundred quid for perfume, fifteen grand for a cat. Money was no object to these people. I was determined to join them in their world.

  We both lay there covered in a film of sweat and breathing heavily, sex with Sylvie always left me knackered. She was insatiable and I loved it. Sylvie reached over and pulled a cigarette from the packet she had placed on the bedside cabinet and placed it between her ruby red lips. Flicking a solid gold lighter with her perfectly manicured thumb she lit the cigarette, inhaled deeply and blew a cloud of smoke up towards the ceiling. Jackie suddenly jumped on the bed making us both jump. The cat took one look and a sniff at the rising smoke and jumped back off the bed and ran out.

  ''Sylvie, can I ask you a personal question?'' I glanced sideways at her.

  ''Should I be worried?'' she blew a smoke ring and said, ''sure go for it, but I ain't marrying you!'' She gave a small chuckle as she said it.

  ''How often do you see Tony Nolan? I know you are old friends.''

  Sylvie looked at me and answered, ''You're not jealous are you? Well I'm flattered.''

  ''No, no course not! I just wondered as I am doing a bit of business with him that's all.''

  Sylvie was all mock disappointment at my denial. ''I haven't seen him since the tragedy but I have spoken to him on the phone, usual condolences and all that bollocks.'' She was a hard woman who had worked in a hard profession and had little room for sentimentality. ''Our paths normally cross a couple of times a year but we aren't that close anymore. I used to let him share my bed now and then in the early days but not now. A word of warning though watch what you're getting into with Tony, he can be unpredictable and dangerous. I've seen him at his worst.''

  ''Oh, that's good. You're right perhaps I was a tad jealous. And don't worry about me, it's just a few odd jobs.'' I didn't want to be obvious and delve too deep. ''I have to go away for a couple of days could you do me a massive favour and feed Jackie while I'm gone?'' I was hoping for one day only but you never know.

  ''Course I will love, he's a darling and it's no problem. Mind you it will cost you.'' She winked as she spoke.

  Whatever the price it was worth paying. ''Anything for you my dear.''

  Sylvie stubbed out her cigarette and slipped her arm under the covers. Slowly she slid her hand down my chest until she reached my groin where she wrapped her fingers around my semi erect penis and gave it a gentle squeeze.

  ''Come here big boy, you've a debt to settle and it's already overdue.'' There was urgency in her voice, she tightened her grip and pulled me over to her side of the bed.

  I already had my germ of an idea as to how I was going to handle the task that I had been given and at the same time work it to my advantage. The bill of sale gave me a starting point, I had a name and address so all I needed now was information.

  David Graham was the cat breeder who had sold Jackie Nolan the kitten and his cattery was located in Maidstone, Kent. After looking him up on the internet, Google is a wonderful tool, I established that his residence was outside of Maidstone, set in two acres of countryside. Ideal for the breeding and raising of cats. Visitors were by appointment only and not welcome on Sunday's. I managed to establish that Graham was in his late sixties, lived alone after his wife had died some years earlier, and had no children. The cattery was up for sale as he had nobody to pass it on to and he was not in the best of health. This could be an opening for me to gain access.

  I made the decision that I would pose as a potential buyer to get an appointment to view the property and whilst there I would find a convenient way to eliminate David Graham, erase all traces of the sale made to Jackie Nolan and then inform Tony that Graham had mugged off his wife and I had made him pay the price. There was also a chance that I could find a Siamese cat with similar markings that I could palm off as the missing male kitten. I took a photo of Jackie for reference and set about making the arrangements. There was no room for any errors and the planning had to be meticulous.

  I went out the next day and bought a pay as you go phone and sim card just so I could contact David Graham. There had to be no way to trace any correspondence back to me. From the internet I obtained the details of the cattery from the agent responsible for selling it. I had no intention of going through the agents as I wanted anonymity. It would be no good me showing my face and giving them the opportunity to identify me in the future. Next I rang David Graham to fix a date to view.

  I had to ring two or three times before I got an answer. It was obviously a busy time at the cattery. The phone was finally answered by a well spoken elderly voice.

  ''Hello, Hillsdown Cattery David Graham speaking, how can I help you?''

  ''Good afternoon Mr Graham. My name is Darren Johnson and I would like to discuss the possibility of purchasing the cattery.'' I tried to sound like I had been born with a silver spoon in my mouth. It was an attempt to disguise my voice and at the same time I wanted to give the impression that I had breeding and money.

  ''Go through the agent! It's wh
at I am paying them for.'' He didn't come across as best pleased at this approach.

  ''Let me explain Mr Graham. I do not wish to use your agent as I have had dealings with them in the past and I must say they messed me around. They lack professionalism in my view. Also I would like discretion if I am to proceed with this purchase. I have a sound reason to avoid publicity on this, my wife wants to own a cattery and she has always loved your part of the country. I want to buy it as a surprise for her. I have the finances to pay the full asking price and my wife has the experience to run the business professionally, she has had thirty years under her belt breeding and showing Abyssinians.'' I bluffed my way through the opening gambit.

  Graham sounded interested now and asked, ''What's your wife's name I must have heard of her, we must move in the same circles. Abyssinians eh, not a lover myself but each to their own.''

  ''Sorry Mr Graham but I would be happy to discuss this further with you but I am pressed for time. Is there any chance of me coming down at the weekend to look the place over, I can give you a decision there and then.'' I was thrown by the question of who my wife was. I would have to work on that one.

  ''Yes, yes I understand Mr Johnson. Let me see, this weekend could be good for me I will just look in my diary, bear with me.''

  I could hear the sound of papers being shuffled and things moving on a desk.

  ''Sorry for the delay, Yes this Sunday would be great. Would two o'clock be good for you. We could have a spot of lunch too, the local pub does an excellent Sunday roast.''

  ''That suits me fine,'' I replied, ''I will see you on Sunday and we will hopefully do business. Oh and lunch sounds fantastic. Goodbye Mr Graham and thank you for your time and understanding.''