The Old Men's Sex Club Murders

by Matt McGregor

  “Are you Dr. Barton?” the boy asked.

  “I am.”

  “Then I guess this is for you, okay.”

  Paul smiled. “Sure.”

  The boy turned to leave. “Wait a minute,” Paul said as he reached into his pocket and pulled out some change. He handed it to the boy.

  “Thanks, mister. I mean, Doctor.” This is even more than the other guy gave me.

  “You’re welcome.”

  Paul went inside and closed the door behind him. “Let’s see what he says.” He opened the envelope and pulled out a piece of cheap typing paper:

  Dear Paul and Rob,

  The little exhibition this morning was to show you beyond any doubt that I’m not bluffing. I want you to know how easy it is to get close to anyone I want, anyone in the club. And in case you think my shots were wild, think again. I hit two glasses on two different tables, didn’t I? Just what I was aiming for.

  But enough of this idle chit chat. I wanted to let you know that soon, very, very soon, you’re going to have another murder to investigate.

  Sincerely,

  Guess Who

  Rob felt frightened, helpless. “You think he’s really going to kill someone?”

  “He’s followed through so far.”

  “We have to do something.”

  “The first thing we have to do, I think, is call Dale and then go over to the gym as fast as we can. Let’s get going. I’ll call Dale on the way.”

  Dale met them at the gym, his face again drained of color, his expression grim. “He killed Sam,” he told Rob and Paul. “My God Almighty, this can’t go on.”

  Sam, a muscular and very hairy man, at forty-four had been the youngest member of the group. At the club’s meeting he’d twisted Rob’s tits very hard and then—well, there was no other word that was adequate enough to describe what had then happened—then had raped him. Carlton had said Sam also was into dildos, hot wax, and ice.

  Even though Rob didn’t know Sam very well. But still it was a horrible situation to know he’d been murdered.

  “Obviously, he was murdered here,” Paul said.

  “Yes. Just like Harvey. The only differences were the “toys,” if you will—mammoth dildos, boiling wax…” Carlton choked up for a moment and couldn’t continue. “And his rectum was horribly cut—I would guess with large chunks of ice since Sam was into using ice. There’s a thick layer of melted wax covering his mouth and nose while he was bound to the massage table. So…” Carlton tried to control his breathing. “I don’t know if he died of suffocation or from loss of blood.” Harvey wiped his eyes. “I don’t know what we’re going to do.”

  “Poor Sam.” Paul’s eyes looked moist. “I suppose we’ll have to call Seth Parsons again.”

  “I suppose. But what I really meant is what are we going to do to stop the murders? This can’t go on. My God, man, we’ve lost two people already.”

  “And again, we can’t call the police,” Paul said.

  “I’ll call Seth,” Carlton said. “See if he has any suggestions. Both on how to catch the murderer and on how to dispose of the body.” He closed his eyes for a moment. “That sounds horrible, doesn’t it? ‘Dispose of the body.’ Sam was my friend, for many years. And I’m talking about him as if he were not even a human being. A man I liked.”

  “It’s okay, Dale,” Paul said. “It’s the situation.”

  “It’s not okay. Oh, God, how can we stop this?”

  “If you give me Seth’s number, I’ll call,” Paul said.

  “I suppose that’s best. Then I’d like you to see what’s been done to Sam. It’s heinous! Who could do this sort of thing?”

  The answering machine kicked on. “I’m can’t come to the phone right now. If you leave a message, I’ll call you back as soon as I can.”

  Paul left a message telling him Carlton, he, and Rob were at the gym and asking him to call back.

  “You haven’t notified any of the member yet about Sam’ murder?” Rob asked.

  “The truth is I didn’t even think of it,” Carlton said.

  “We can do it later, Mr. Carlton,” Rob said. “I’m sure the person who did this won’t do anything again so soon. And the note did mention that only one person would be murdered.”

  Mr. Carlton shook his head. “I hope you’re right.”

  “You wanted us to look at the body?” Paul said.

  “If you don’t mind.”

  Rob and Paul followed Carlton to the massage table. The sight was horrible. Sam with chains and ropes, wrapped around his body and locked together underneath the table. Ropes bound his ankles and wrists. Beneath a layer of wax his face looked twisted in agony. A thin layer of blood lay beneath the wax near his nose. And blood had flowed from his rectum to gather in a large puddle on the floor beside and underneath the table.

  Rob’s eyes filled with tears, and he felt as if he might be ill. He pushed down the feeling and concentrated only on what Paul and Carlton were saying.

  “What sort of monster could do this?” Carlton asked.

  “I agree with you,” Paul answered. “Only a monster could do this. Someone who’s lost any sense of humanity.”

  Just then Paul’s phone rang. “Yes?”

  “Paul, it’s Seth.” He paused. “So Sam’s dead too.”

  “I’m sorry, Seth.”

  “I know.” Another pause. “The boys and I will take care of it. But this has to be the last time. Retired cop or not, I can’t keep taking chances.”

  “Thanks, Seth. I certainly hope we don’t lose anyone else.”

  “I didn’t know Sam well. He joined only a short time before I left. Seemed like a nice fellow.”

  “Is there anything you can suggest?”

  “So far as trying to catch the son-of-a-bitch who’s doing this? Unless we bring in professionals… And, of course, we can’t do that. But we can’t let this go on either. I’m just not sure, Paul. Let me give it some thought. I’ll get back to you.”

  “We’ve thought of hiring a guard. But again, we can’t risk bringing in someone new. Someone we can’t trust.”

  “The boys and I will be there within the hour. Can you wait?”

  Chapter 14

  So gullible; so easy. It makes me laugh. How can a man Sam’s age be so trusting, so naïve? One phone call; that’s all it took. A thirty second call, and I had him.

  “ Sam,” I said, “it’s me. I know who the killer is.” And, of course, I did know, didn’t I? I’m the killer, the mastermind, the planner. And these suckers don’t know it, but I can outwit every one of them. And that’s what I’m going to do. Kill each fucking member of the fucking club. Even the new “boy,” though he has nothing to do with it. Oh, well, collateral damage. What good would it do to leave the boy alive if there aren’t any men? Any daddies! I know. Maybe he could find other daddies. But would he? Afterward. He’d be awfully affected, wouldn’t he?

  “Yeah,” I tell old Sam. I know who it is, but I need you to back me up on this.”

  “What do you mean?” he asked. I didn’t expect that. What did I expect? I thought he’d jump at the chance.

  “I’m not comfortable talking about this on the phone. I’m here at the gym.”

  “So you want me to come there.”

  “Found some clues, Sam.”

  “About Harvey’s murder?”

  “Exactly. So I’d like you to come to the gym, and I’ll show you.”

  “Right away?”

  “Yes, the sooner the better!” I wanted to get it over with before Paul and the boy even realized by telling them ‘soon’ I meant very, very soon. Funny, isn’t it? I tell them, but they don’t seem to believe me. That’s because they’re all stupid. Dumb. Lacking in intelligence. Not like me. I can outwit anyone. I’ve proved it again and again. Like when I took the test for MENSA. I scored the highest on record. Of course, I would do that. It was a foregone conclusion. Far, far smarter than that Marilyn vos Savant who wrote for the silly Sunday magazine.
She claimed to have the highest IQ on record. Guess I showed her. She’s dumb like all the others. I’m the only smart one.

  So he comes to the gym. Sam Peyton with all his muscle. Well, I showed him it’s brains that count, not muscles.

  And oh, we had fun. Correction. Oh, I had fun! Poor Sam. Guess it was torture for him to be with me. Get it? Torture! Punny, huh? Lowbrow humor. Well, okay, I admit that I sometimes stoop to their level. Everyone else’s level, I mean.

  It was like a show we’d rehearsed again and again. Both knew our lines, our actions. He was kind enough to follow my script exactly. I brought him to the table and showed him some spots on it. Imaginary spots. I asked him to bend over to see them better, and the silly goose did just that.

  And as he’s looking for the imaginary spots of blood, I tell him. He was shocked. Really shocked.

  “My God!” he said. “You’re the one who killed Harvey?”

  “Yes, and now I’m going to kill you.”

  “But why? You’re my friend. Why would you want to kill me?”

  “That’s for me to know and you not to find out.”

  “Jesus Christ, man! You think I’m just going to stand here and let me kill me!” He lunged for me. Just like I expected

  So I take out my taser and zap him. Again and again. Poor guy. Like a man without any bones. Sprawling this way and that.

  That’s when I noticed the fear. The fear in his eyes. And that’s exactly what I wanted to see. Oh sure, I had a struggle. Have you ever tried to lift a man who’s all dead weight? That’s a good one, isn’t it. Because soon he would be dead weight, stone cold dead! How long does it take for rigor mortise to set in? And how long to set out. He set out on a journey, didn’t he? That would make a good title. Journey to a Gym.’ Alliteration. Don’t you just love it?

  So I managed to get him up on the table, and I could do whatever I wanted. And he couldn’t do a thing about it. I mean here he was, all helpless and everything, and he couldn’t move a muscle. I didn’t even need to use the ropes and chains. Not at the beginning.

  I started out easy. I’d thought ahead and brought a cooler with a bag of ice. Big ragged chunks of ice. I propped him up and one by one stuck them up his ass. Oh it was fun…except for the mess. Worked like an enema. All that shit and water. Couldn’t stand the smell. So you know what? I grabbed his clothing, things I’d pulled off him once he went all limp-wristed on me. Well, limp-wristed, limp-kneed, limp-elbowed. What fun! Just like with Mr. Winton, I could do exactly what I wanted.

  And poor Sam, he couldn’t believe it. He was terrorized, which made my cock get hard. I mean hard as a piece of granite. Well, I climbed on the table and shoved that up his ass too. And he couldn’t do a damned thing about it…except endure. And I had my way with him. Well, almost. Just before I came for the first time, I pulled my cock from his ass, hurried around the table and stuck it in his mouth. His slack-jawed mouth. And you should have seen all the cum. Loads and loads of it. ’Course there would be since I hadn’t fucked anyone or even jacked off since I killed poor old Harvey.

  Give ’em what they dish out. That’s what I think. Except in triplicate or quintuplicate. Kill off the silly bastards till none of them are left. Oh, it’s such fun. And so very stimulating. Do you realize I came three times before poor Sam died? And by then all I could see in his eyes was hate. But he couldn’t do a fucking thing about it.

  Once his body began to twitch the slightest bit, I turned him on his back and chained him to the table before I bound his wrists and ankles.

  But before I even did that, I heated up the wax on the hot plate we keep here. It was so hot I had to wrap my pants around it so as not to burn my hand. Then I began to pour it, first on his cock, which made him try to scream. Oh, the pain he must have suffered. Then I poured it on his tits. Have you ever seen skin shrivel? An incredible sight—boiling the flesh of a living man. Well, a barely alive man.

  All this wore me out, I tell you. Guess I’m not as much in shape as I should be. Guess I’ll have to go to the gym more, won’t I? Oh, that’s really funny too. I suppose I don’t have to use the machines when I’m exercising by torturing someone before I fuck them silly. Only Sam didn’t think it was silly. I can guarantee that.

  Glad I thought of the taser. Thought I might have hit poor old Harvey on the head so hard I killed him. I didn’t though, at least not then. He woke up in time to appreciate all the moves I was making, all the exquisite little touches. Oh, yes, Harvey, I wish you’d enjoyed it as much as I did.

  So anyhow, before I bound Sam to the table, I pinched his tits. Hard! And I do mean hard. Used a pair of long-nosed pliers. And you should have seen the blood squirt. Like a nursing mother’s milk, but with much more force. Like a fountain maybe. The kind you might find in front of a hotel somewhere in Europe.

  Then the ropes. That was fun because it sort of conditioned old Sam for what was to follow. There was no holding back. Remember that saying? A job worth doing.

  Sammy boy was already bleeding. And I don’t mean just a little. And then came more ice. You wouldn’t believe how much that enlarge his asshole. It was like cutting steak but more fun. I wish the other members of the club could have been there to see how much I enjoy inflicting intense pain. Wonderful pain. I wonder if it became pleasure to Sam after a while. Nah, it was only pleasure for me. And then…all too soon, Sammy boy gave up the ghost, died, expired, passed over, passed on, or just passed. One thing he didn’t do was pass out. And I felt this touch of tenderness and a tear trickled out of my eye. Why did I cry? Because it was over all too soon. All, all too soon.

  Chapter 15

  Rob was supposed to meet Luke Henly the following that evening for a session at the gym. He tried to call it off; Carlton tried to call it off. But Luke didn’t answer his phone.

  In the meantime Seth and the two young cops came to the gym.

  “Can’t believe it,” Seth said. “Poor Sam. I wonder why he ever agreed to come here alone. After what happened to Harvey, and the warnings you said you gave the men.”

  “Maybe it was someone he trusted. Someone he thought was above reproach,” Rob said.

  “I suppose,” Seth answered. “But this has to stop. The thing is I could put someone on this—officially, I mean—under different circumstances.” He looked directly at Carlton. “I know this would ruin reputations and tear people apart. But have you at all reconsidered telling the police… Of course, you haven’t. But there are two sides to this. Is it better to ruin some reputations, or is it better to allow for more members to be murdered?”

  “The proverbial rock and a hard place, Seth,” Paul answered. “We don’t know there are going to be more murders.”

  “But you also don’t know there won’t be.”

  “So what do you think we should do?” Carlton asked.

  “I think you should let me talk to some cops I know. Detectives. See if they can help?”

  “Will they keep this quiet?” Paul asked. “If it’s an official investigation, I can’t see how that’s possible.”

  Seth sighed. “You’re right. The only thing that might work is for them to do it on their own time.”

  “But you’d have to explain, wouldn’t you?” Carlton asked. “You’d have to tell them about the club. Are you prepared to do that, Seth?”

  “To be honest with you, Dale, I just don’t know. I think we have to do something before someone else dies here. And the only thing I know to do—”

  “Think of the scandal. There are some awfully prominent members of the group. Union leaders, major business owners, a psychologist, a well-known actor…”

  “You don’t have to tell me, Dale. I’m with you, except…” Seth trailed off.

  “There isn’t likely to be another murder attempt right away, is there?” Rob asked. “I mean the man did warn us. We just didn’t expect him to strike again so soon.”

  “There is that,” Seth said. “But the man sounds like a crazy. And who knows what someone like tha
t will do.”

  “I agree,” Paul answered. “And I’ve read statistics that say a serial killer most likely will be anxious to get on to the next victim, so he may attempt another murder before we think.”

  “But not likely today,” Rob said. “I mean he’s already had a damned active day.”

  “What do you mean?” Seth asked.

  Paul told him about what had happened at the restaurant and then the warning—all in the same day, and it was barely past noon.”

  As they decided what action to take, if any, the two younger cops cleaned up the blood. They’d back a station wagon up to the door and load Sam inside, hopefully when no one was around. Who would even notice what was going on at the basement door of a commercial gym?

  “Just let me think,” Dale said. “First, of course, I have to let the other members know and keep them away from the gym. Tell them that under no circumstances are they to come here, particularly by themselves. That alone might thwart the murderer’s plans.”

  “I don’t like it,” Seth said. “But I understand. And yes, it may help. But how long do we have to keep this up.”

  “I’m sure it will affect the killer’s mood,” Paul said. “Anger him. Maybe even drive him to act before he’s ready.”

  “To get revenge, you mean?” Rob asked. “To get back at all of us for messing up his plans.”

  “I think telling the members what happened and warning them never to come here alone might do it,” Seth said. “But we have to make sure each of them understands that for now they can’t trust anyone. Anyone at all—even the closest of friends in the group.”

  “So you think it is a member of the group then?” Rob asked Seth.

  “Who else? Though, of course, I may be wrong.”

  “How so,” Paul asked, “particularly since he seems to know a hell of a lot about the group?”

  “I’m sure you’re right,” Seth admitted.

  “All set,” one of the younger cops said. “Now if we can just transport the body to the back, no one should even know what’s going on.” He helped, of course, that Seth and the two young cops were in civilian clothes. So they may be just a couple of guys loading or unloading something to store in the basement of the gym.