Dirty Sexy Murder

by Cathleen Ross

  “I’m not going to sit around waiting for feelings...”

  “Hi, guys,” chirped Lizzie as she came up the stairs to the landing. She looked behind her. “Come in Fabs. What do you want to talk to Fabio about?”

  Fabio stood in the doorway or rather blocked the doorway. He was bronzed all over, the colour of a gingernut cookie and his over-bleached hair was greasy. “Hey.” He seemed uneasy as if he knew his presence was unwelcome.

  James’s eyes narrowed. He looked Fabio up and down as if he were a sparring partner. “I want to talk to you about the murders.”

  When Fabio stepped inside, James closed the door behind him with a bang.

  Lizzie jumped. “James!”

  Marina’s stomach turned. This was going to get ugly. “Calm down, James.”

  “Quiet, Marina. I’m dealing with this.” James stood inches from Fabio. “I want to know what’s going on.”

  Fabio shrugged his massive shoulders. “What’s with you, man?”

  “I’ve had the cops all over me about these murders. I don’t take kindly to being set up. I’m as close to a suspect as they’ve got.”

  Fabio raised his enormous arm, scratched his head and inspected what was under his fingernails. “What’s that got to do with me?” The muscles in his arm bunched with the simple movement of his fingers.

  Lizzie’s mouth tightened. Her brow creased with concern. “Fabio’s got nothing to do with that.”

  “Quiet, Lizzie,” James shot out.

  “James!” How dare he be so rude to Lizzie? Marina glared at him, but he ignored her.

  Lizzie shot him a surprised glance. Her eyes glistened as tears started to form.

  “Don’t talk to my girl like that.” Fabio frowned.

  “The first murder happened when I was at Pier One.” James jabbed a finger into Fabio’s chest. “You were there too.”

  “So what?”

  Marina’s mouth went dry. James was doing his best to pick a fight, which was dangerous considering Fabio was double his width.

  “The next murder happened when Marina and I were here. The cops think it’s a convenient alibi. It would suit you to get me out of the way, wouldn’t it? Locked up. Then you could do what you liked with Lizzie.”

  Fabio looked affronted. “What are you talking about? I love Lizzie. I wouldn’t hurt her. She’s the best thing that ever happened to me.”

  “What were you doing when the second murder happened?”

  Clearly confused, Fabio’s gaze met Lizzie’s. She put her arms around him, hugging him as tears rushed down her face.

  “I was with Lizzie.” He gave her arm a reassuring rub. “Don’t cry, Lizzie.”

  James shook his head. “No, you weren’t. Lizzie was traveling to your place when it happened.”

  “You trying to say I’m the murderer?” Frowning again, Fabio tilted his head to one side.

  “You’re a bit slow. Glad you finally caught up.”

  “James,” Lizzie wailed. “Stop being so nasty.”

  “Like hell I will,” James shouted. “I don’t want this guy near you. I don’t like him.”

  Lizzie flinched.

  “That’s enough, James,” said Marina. She couldn’t bear it. There didn’t seem enough room in the narrow hall. The air was hot, static.

  “I know about your porn habit.” James jabbed a finger into Fabio’s chest again.

  Fabio took a step back. “Stay cool. Quit with the finger action.”

  “I think you’re a sicko.”

  Marina was certain that the only thing that stopped James moving on Fabio was Lizzie. She had attached herself to Fabio like lichen.

  “James! Fabs isn’t a murderer.”

  “Stop it, James.” Marina’s gaze darted from man to man, but she realized with amazement that although Fabio looked upset, he was more confounded by James than anything else. Didn’t James care that he was hurting Lizzie by being so aggressive?

  “I know you don’t like me,” said Fabio. “But I love Lizzie. I think she can make up her own mind whether she wants to be with me or not.”

  James smacked his hand into his fist. Every muscle on his body was tense. “No,” he growled. “She’s finished with you.”

  Marina dug her fingernails into her palms. How dare James treat Lizzie like this?

  Lizzie detached herself from Fabio and stood in front of him. “No, I’m not. I choose my boyfriend, not you.” Lizzie was pale but determined. Her tears had slowed. “I hate the way you treat me like Dad did. Like I don’t have a mind of my own. I’m not stupid.”

  “Lizzie! The man’s a sicko. You know he is.”

  She shook her head. “No. I know you don’t like Fabio but you’ve got it all wrong. Fabio and I came up to tell you. There’s been another murder.”

  “Not again,” Marina gasped.

  “It happened when you were away with your boss in Canberra, so I guess that means you’re in the clear,” Lizzie continued.

  James was silent. He stared at Fabio. “But—”

  “Fabio had a complete training schedule that day,” Lizzie interrupted. She wiped a tear from her face with a slash of her hand. “He’s innocent too. Maybe if you’d taken time to get to know him better, you’d know what a gentle guy he is.”

  James’s shoulders slumped.

  “But who was murdered? How did you find out?” Marina couldn’t bear not knowing. She’d felt nothing. Had no warning except that the murderer was seeking his prey. Surely after last time she would have felt something?

  “One of my clients is a cop. Works with another of the cops on the case,” said Fabio to Marina. “He said they found her in the Harbour like the others. Another ‘Brazilian Wax’ murder.”

  “But they don’t know who it is yet,” Lizzie added.

  Fabio stared at James. There was quiet dignity in his tanned face. “Guess you’ll have to find another reason to hate me. At least you know your sister’s safe with me.”

  Mouth open, James started to say something but Fabio didn’t wait for his reply.

  “Come on, Lizzie.” He put his hand on her shoulder. “Come stay at my place.” He reached over, opened the door and ushered Lizzie before him.

  “Wait,” said James.

  Fabio turned.

  “I’m sorry.” James offered his hand for Fabio to shake. “I was wrong about you.”

  “You sure got that right,” muttered Marina. Fabio’s handling of James’s naked aggression impressed her. Lizzie was right, her boyfriend was gentle in nature.

  Fabio looked at James’s proffered hand. “I’ll shake your hand when you treat your sister with more respect.” He walked away, his stance proud.

  Lizzie didn’t look back.

  Chapter 17

  When Marina pushed the wood-framed door of the salon open, she noticed Salon City had become Salon Clity again. Michael had diligently scrubbed out the ‘l’ last time but the sign had only lasted two days before the street artists struck again. Looking around Darlinghurst Road before she entered her work place, Marina realized why some shop owners used psychedelic murals to decorate their shop fronts. It saved the vandals trouble. The thought brought a smile to her lips. She embraced the eccentricity of the place and the way the gay crowd had brought a quirky and exciting style to the place. Its diversity no longer threatened her.

  “Morning Marina,” Natalia said. “One of your clients cancelled, but I’ve scheduled in Cynthia Nelson first thing this morning.”

  Marina’s nostrils flared. How could she forget Cynthia, the client who was allergic to washing? “Great. Cynthia.” She tried to sound enthusiastic.

  “Yes,” Natalia said.

  Marina noticed that Natalia’s high cheekbones had filled out. Her porcelain skin glowed with the pregnancy and her hand absent-mindedly patted her now-showing bump.

  “The Swinging Sixties lady,” Marina said. She raised her eyebrows at her boss. “I don’t seem to remember you warning me about her before I did the job.”
<
br />   “Did she ask you to join her svingers’ club?” Natalia arched one of her thinly plucked eyebrows in return.

  “She did and I didn’t.”

  “I vaxed Cynthia for five years. She ask me on a regular basis to join her club.” Natalia looked in the mirror behind reception and smoothed her translucent skin with light fluttery motions from her perfectly manicured hands. “Naturally I refused. I’m novere near sixty.”

  Both women laughed.

  Natalia’s well-made up eyes narrowed. “Vot’s that thing you’re wearing?” She gestured to Marina’s throat.

  “It’s a Talisman. Lizzie made it for me. It’s supposed to protect me from evil. Help me find love. That sort of stuff. I kept it in my pocket before, but Lizzie said I’m supposed to wear it near my skin or it won’t work.”

  Natalia laughed. “Trust Lizzie.”

  Her face became serious and her wing-eyebrows formed a slight frown. “I heard on the radio, there’s been another murder.” Her voice had slipped to a whisper though there was no one else in the salon. “Vot you think? It’s one of our clients again?” While she was waiting for an answer, she took a spoonful of frozen yogurt.

  Marina’s stomach twisted, barely able to watch as Natalia took another dainty mouthful of her yogurt. She’d eaten nothing. Couldn’t touch food. The thought of her clients being picked off made her permanently queasy.

  “I hope not. I can’t bear it. Nothing like this ever happened back home.” Cross-dressing aside, things were simple.

  If only she could get away from the feeling of unease. Waxing Cynthia’s unwashed love-muffin was preferable to the sheer horror of wondering who the murderer had killed next. “Lizzie’s boyfriend told me last night. He heard from a cop.”

  Natalia took another spoonful of yogurt, her lips leaving a red lipstick mark on the white plastic spoon. “The radio said homicidal violence. Vot you think? That means he strangled her like the rest?” She examined the half moons on her fingernails.

  “Natalia please.” She grimaced. Did she have to make murder seem like a tea party?

  “Sorry.” Natalia looked shame-faced. “I know you like your clients. I hope they catch the guy. If it gets out all the victims come from here, it vill be bad for business.”

  Was that all Natalia cared about? The business?

  The women weren’t just victims to her. Adele’s hopeful face and Dani’s vibrant one swam before her eyes. Natalia was right about her. She did get attached to her clients. They weren’t faceless people. Adele had dreams. Dani too. They didn’t deserve to have their lives cut short by a monster. She glanced at Natalia who was scraping the bottom of her yogurt tub. Christ, Natalia, innocent women are being murdered! she wanted to yell.

  Natalia noticed her staring. “Yogurt breakfast. It’s good for the baby.” She patted her stomach. “Look.” She motioned Marina over. “I have a picture of the baby on ultrasound. I know the sex. Of course I’m not telling.”

  “Of course not,” agreed Marina seeing as, thanks to Michael, she already knew. She looked at the gray swirl on the piece of paper unable to make out a thing. “Everything fine so far?” It looked like a black blob.

  Natalia nodded.

  “Good.”

  She glanced at her watch realizing that she had better get ready for her client. “I’ll go upstairs and turn on the wax.”

  When she climbed the stairs, she marveled at Natalia’s ability to switch from murder to baby without drawing breath. But then Natalia had her baby to think of and the management of the salon. Marina’s heart twinged. How lucky she was.

  She walked into her cubicle, switched on her hot wax and hung her jacket behind the door. Everything was normal for other people. That was what she wanted.

  Fifteen minutes later Cynthia Nelson lay semi-naked on Marina’s massage table, trying to convince her to try a night with the Swinging Sixties.

  “Are you sure you don’t want to wear the paper G-string?” Marina dangling it in the air determined to distract her client from her favorite subject.

  “No, dear, my back passage is far too sensitive. I can’t bear anything touching it.”

  Nope. She wasn’t going to go there. She was not going to ask why. It was quite simple. She did not want to know. “Are you sure you want me to wax your back passage?”

  “Definitely. It will be rosy in a few days. You see I’ve had my asshole bleached. It’s gotten darker with age.”

  Blah! Disgusting! “Ouch!” Marina clenched her butt muscles.

  “It wasn’t that bad. The doctor painted on some solution. Feels a bit raw now, but it’ll be pink and pretty for the next party.”

  Marina blinked. Gross deluxe! That was way too much information. She busied herself by prepping the area and started on her client’s bikini line. The good news was that Cynthia had showered before her appointment. Bonus. The day was looking up.

  “Do you still want to maintain the love heart?”

  “No, dear. I want something different this time. I’ve got something special planned.”

  Special. Marina shook her head. She didn’t want Cynthia to tell her anymore.

  Cynthia raised her head and gave Marina a wicked smile. “I want the letter T shaped on my love-muffin.”

  “No problem. I have a new bikini trimming kit. Do you want me to crop the hair or do you want a shaggy style? One knee up.” She got straight into the job. This was going to be quick seeing as there wasn’t much re-growth. She’d only just done Cynthia. Most clients came monthly to maintain their Brazilian.

  “Mmm...” Cynthia paused to consider her question. “It needs to be a distinct T shape so it can be found in the dark.”

  Not waiting for the gross explanation, Marina fervently searched for a change of topic. What are you doing this weekend? Nope. Not a good question. Catching up with some oldies? Nope. Probably not a good question either.

  “I’ve come up with an exciting game to play for my next swingers’ party. It’s called Perfect Match.”

  Perfect snatch more likely!

  “What do you do? Ask questions? Other leg up.” She spread the wax along Cynthia’s inner thigh.

  Cynthia’s face lit up, obviously mistaking Marina’s dry tone for interest.

  “No, dear. That’s so passé. Don’t be surprised if more of your clients want letters on their love-muffins over the next few days. I’ve recommended you to all my girlfriends.”

  “I’ve waxed a lot of shapes: lightning bolts, arrows, x marks the spot. You’re my first client who wants a letter.” Not that she wanted to know why. Oh no, no, no. She kept working, stripping all the re-growth between Cynthia’s legs.

  “Yes, you see all the women in the swingers’ club have been sent a letter, which they can shape by shaving or waxing. At the party, the men have to find the letter that their name starts with in the dark. But I want your opinion, dear. You young ones are so hip.”

  No, we’re not. “I’m not sure I’m qualified to help. I can do a close shave though. With my new bikini trimming kit. It’s really neat. It came with a few attachments, too, and little sharp scissors.” Marina rattled on hoping to divert the conversation. She put the hot wax on top of the heart to shape the top of the T.

  “I’m wondering whether to tie the men’s hands behind their backs. That way they’d have to find the letter with their tongues. Imagine how exciting it would be for the women. Come to think of it leave the hair long, it will take them longer to work out the letter shape.”

  Gross! Vomit! Ugh! Marina took a deep breath. So much for conversation diversion. Couldn’t Cynthia take up ballroom and change partners in progressive dancing like her grandparents back home did? Was she being narrow-minded again? Cynthia was waiting for her answer.

  “I...I...” She was feeling distinctly tongue-tied.

  There was a knock. “Marina.” Natalia called but didn’t open the door. “I know you’re in the middle of an appointment, but I just thought I’d let you know the police are here to see you.�
��

  Marina drew a sharp intake of breath. “I’ll be finished in a few minutes.”

  “Thanks. I’ll let them know.” She heard the click of Natalia’s heels as she walked away.

  “Not again.” The blood drained from Marina’s face.

  “Are you in trouble, dear?”

  “No. Not me.” Her voice was flat. “Have you read about the murders in the paper?”

  Cynthia nodded. “Yes, it’s been the talk of the swingers’ club.”

  “Adele and Dani were my clients. And I think there’s been another murder. I was praying it wasn’t one of my clients, but the police are here again.” Her fingers trembled as she worked. “They only come when something bad has happened.”

  “That’s very strange. Why would both girls be your clients?” Cynthia put her hand to her chest, her eyes wide with concern.

  Marina continued shaping the T but she couldn’t concentrate, couldn’t get the wax to go in a straight line. “I keep asking myself that question.”

  “And now possibly another client murdered. That’s an odd pattern. A disturbing one.”

  Marina met her gaze.

  Cynthia gave her an astute look. “Could the murders have something to do with you?”

  The muscles in her stomach tightened. Little flutters of fear made her swallow. If the clients thought she was involved... Where would she run to this time? She shuddered. She liked living in Paddington. She’d miss James, Lizzie, the crazy shops. She stamped her foot. She would not run again like she did from Blackheath after her wedding disaster. Running made her look guilty.

  “I just do the waxing. That’s it.” Was Cynthia looking at her like she was a murderer? How long before they all looked at her like that?

  Cynthia pushed herself to a sitting position.

  “I haven’t finished yet.” Marina looked up and caught her speculative gaze. She was checking her out big time. “Did I hurt you?”

  “Your fingers have turned to ice. Anyway, the police need to see you. I’ll get Natalia to finish me later.” She dressed and quickly walked out of the cubicle without saying goodbye.

  Marina rushed down the narrow wooden stairs to meet the police, her heels clattering on the wooden stairs.