An Indecent Death

by David Anderson

  After making sure she was well and truly asleep, I flipped up her skirt and there she was, in all her glory. What a woman! And this was the way she went around at school! I got excited. My hands were shaking so much I had trouble holding the camera. Oh yes, I had decided to photograph it all so I could relive it later, as much as I wanted. She had on a filmy black blouse and a tube top, as well as the skirt. I started removing her clothes and I got increasingly excited until, when she was naked, I couldn’t hold back any longer and I just had to relieve myself. It wasn’t what I had planned but I was so excited, and I figured I had plenty of time to do it properly later.

  I went out to the bathroom to get cleaned up and that’s when “the plan” went seriously wrong. When I came back, Sarah’s eyes were open and moving around. She didn’t seem to be able to move her head or anything so I thought I might be okay. But I guess I came into her field of vision and she saw me. I knew instantly she recognized me and I panicked. There was a pair of stockings on the dresser and I picked one up and put it around her neck and she stopped breathing in no time. And I stood there panting, and I could hardly believe what I had just done. I guess I was in shock.

  I went back out to the kitchen to get some more wine and steady myself and think. Back I went into the bedroom to make sure she was dead, which she most definitely was. And I regretted it, believe me I did. I didn’t want her to die. I took the stocking off and put it my pocket, put the other one back in a drawer and went back to look at her. And, despite myself, I started getting hard again seeing her there all naked and on display, just for me, and before I knew it, I came onto her again.

  So there I was: a horny old fat man who had concocted a sneaky plan to screw one of his colleagues without her knowledge. What a complete failure I turned out to be. I didn’t get to have sex with her at all and ended up killing her to boot.

  After some serious thinking, I decided it was just possible that I could get out of the situation. I had touched as little as I could in the apartment and I had brought gloves to use. The next few hours were busy as I cleaned her off, dried her and got her dressed. The cloths and towels I used came home with me. I found her vacuum and quickly cleaned her carpets. I took the bag with me and a new one went into the machine. I knew it was possible that another tenant might hear the vacuum but I just had to take the chance. I wiped down her counters and cleaned the bathroom sink. I made her bed and I washed the wineglasses and left hers in the drying rack. Mine went with me, along with the bottle, which was so distinctive. I’m pretty sure the LCBO would remember the customer who had purchased eight cases of such an expensive vintage. I definitely should have brought a more common wine, but then, how was I to know she would die? I thought it was just possible that after I buried her, the police might think she had gone out and disappeared. Turns out that didn’t work so well.

  I slipped out of the apartment and went back home. The wineglass went into a trashcan along the way. I came back with some rope, a plastic tarpaulin and my garden caddy. Once again I was able to get into her apartment unnoticed. I got her wrapped up and onto the caddy and out of there. It wasn’t easy and I was sweaty and nervous before it was done. I had some trouble getting her into the car as I just wasn’t strong enough to lift her into the trunk. So onto the back seat she went. But as far as I know, nobody saw me. It was well after one a.m. by this time.

  I had decided on Hillsdale Park. I thought I could get her buried and maybe nobody would ever find her. But it was getting later and later and I was beginning to lose my nerve. And I was so tired.

  It was dark there and the flashlight I had brought didn’t help all that much. I remember that I smashed into a rock along the path and I was so exhausted that I decided to just get it over with. I couldn’t have gone much further, so I picked a spot off the trail which I thought would do. I guess it was too close to the path; things look different in the dark. I got it done as best I could, but obviously it wasn’t good enough. I never expected her to be found as soon as she was. I went home and just had enough energy to shower before I collapsed. Early the next morning I thoroughly cleaned the tarpaulin, caddy and my shoes, and I washed all my clothes. I got rid of her towel and the cloths.

  I’ve been debating with myself about whether I chose correctly in burying her. Maybe I should have just left her there. But I decided that I had a better chance if I hid the body. If she weren’t found for weeks or months, the GHB would never have been detected. If I left her in the apartment, she could have been found the next day. So I chose the park, and as it happened, I only gained a day. Which as it turned out, wasn’t enough. And it doesn’t matter now anyway.

  Once she was discovered, I did my best to co-operate while throwing suspicion on Greg Parent. I don’t think you ever believed it was him, though. And then planting the stocking on poor old Pierre, that was clumsy, I know. But I was getting desperate. I thought you’d be after her husband or Parent and that didn’t seem to be working.

  As for Lynnette, I’m sorry that happened. But she told me she had a friend at Pinehurst and I knew it was only a matter of time before she found out about the GHB. She and Cassie would talk about Sarah and what had happened to her, and then it would come out that I had taken the drug from that kid. And that would do it for me. Right now I’m glad that old bag came along and interrupted me. I like Lynn and hated having to hit her. I’m glad she survived – please tell her for me.

  I heard you in my refrigerator and knew the bottle of Puligny-Montrachet would draw your attention. And when you came back, you would find my wine cellar. Have you found the drug yet? If not, look under the stone in front of the birdbath in the back.

  Take a look in the woods on the north side of Boundary Road just west of Concession 12. You know where I mean? Northwest of the city. There’s an overgrown laneway in those woods. It goes in quite a long way. I discovered it years ago when I was out hiking. You might find something interesting there. There is no way I could go to prison. An old fat guy like me wouldn’t last a week in there.

  For what it’s worth, I’m sorry it happened.

  James Shaughnessy, BA, B Ed, MA

  Lori had finished reading first and was looking at him as he threw down his copy. “For what it’s worth?” Drumm said. “It isn’t worth dick all.” He looked at Lori Singh. “Sorry for the language.” He pointed at the letter. “And listing his degrees! Like we’d give a shit. Pretentious asshole.”

  “Well, that wraps it up, I guess,” said Lori. “And no worries about the language. I feel exactly the same. Interesting about the GHB, isn’t it? He kept some hidden. And here’s betting that he would have done it again, if he’d gotten away with it. Some other poor woman would have been given the old Jim Shaughnessy special.”

  Drumm was nodding. “Yes, you’re right.” He stood up. “I’ve got to get out to his house and check out his birdbath, not to mention take a peek at Boundary Road. I’ve got a good idea what I’ll find there.” He turned to leave, then said, “Meet at The Cat and the Fiddle later?”

  They agreed on the time and went their separate ways.

  The pub was a busy place at this time in the afternoon. Lots of people liked to stop in on their way home from work; quite a number of them were enjoying dinner. Drumm found Lori Singh sitting at a booth waiting for him, a glass of wine in front of her. After he had ordered ice water, he told her about the rest of his day.

  The Lexus had been located where Shaughnessy had said it would be. There was an empty bottle of Puligny-Montrachet on the passenger seat. The principal had been behind the wheel and he was dead – appallingly dead.

  “It was a new one for me,” said Drumm. “No gun or knife or carbon monoxide for our Jim. No, he used a plastic locking tie. The sort of thing that’s used to tie cables together. Those things are impossible to break once they’re on. You have to use a knife or scissors to cut them off. He must have put it on around his neck after he fortified himself by drinking the wine. Then, just a quick pull on one end and it would
have tightened immediately. He wouldn’t have lasted long. I’ll spare you the rest of the details.”

  Shaughnessy had probably been dead since Monday night. Even though he’d left the windows open, there had been a foul reek surrounding the Lexus. Whoever drove that car next would have a tough time getting the smell out. Inside the vehicle was even worse, the smell of excrement and putrefaction overpowering. Drumm’s eyes had watered and he had to back away and cover his nose and mouth before approaching again. The corpse was in an advanced state of decomposition, crawling with maggots. The eyes were gone, pecked out by birds, perhaps, or taken by some other creature. The face had turned almost black and the tongue was protruding obscenely from the mouth. The plastic tie had almost disappeared into the rotting flesh around Shaughnessy’s neck. Drumm wondered if the principal had had second thoughts, and tried to get his fingers under the choking plastic. There was too much decomposition to be able to tell. And if he had tried, it would have been far too late.

  Drumm looked at Lori. “Death by plastic twist tie. Who would have thought?”

  After a pause, she said, “I think I appreciate you not giving me all the details. But still, you must feel pretty good. The case went down.” She motioned to the water. “Why don’t you have a real drink? To celebrate?”

  Drumm said, “I will in a minute, although I don’t feel much like celebrating. I screwed this one up, diddled around for too long. I took way too long to see the obvious and I’m lucky Lynnette Cranston wasn’t killed.”

  Lori said, “You’re being too hard on yourself, Nick. Nothing was obvious in this case and he covered his tracks well. And he was lucky, too. You did well if you ask me. When did you first begin to suspect him?”

  Drumm said, “We all did well, you mean. You and Karl were an important part of this case. Let’s be clear about that: it takes a team to solve a murder. You had suggestions and insight that were helpful, and so did Karl, and this murder would have gone unsolved if not for you. As for when I started to suspect Shaughnessy, it was more a case of eliminating suspects. I didn’t think there was any way Pierre Pepin could have done it. He’s a creepy pervert, maybe, but not a killer and I could never see him getting into her apartment or having the strength to get her out. Her husband? I just couldn’t understand why she would have let him in. She would have called 9-1-1 if he had shown up. Greg Parent was possible but more and more I thought he wouldn’t be capable. Partly because of the drinking, partly because I thought if he did go after her, he’d just bash her.”

  “What about Madsen?” asked Lori. “And Callaghan and Deans and Musjari?”

  Drumm took a sip of his water. “The first three I think just happened to have sex with her because they were in the right place at the right time. The more I thought about them, the more I realized they were just taking advantage of what she offered them. I couldn’t see them going over to her place and drugging and raping her. They would have approached her at school, talked her into more sex, and if she were in the right mood, and she almost always was, it seems, away they would have went. But Madsen wouldn’t have done that; he was out of her league completely and he must have known that.”

  “And Musjari?” asked Lori.

  “I didn’t think he had the balls to kill anyone,” said Drumm. “He’s all anger and whiny and about feeling sorry for himself. Not the type to plan to rape someone. But you understand, these were all just my gut feelings.”

  “So that left Shaughnessy,” said Lori.

  “So that left Shaughnessy,” agreed Drumm. “Or persons unknown. But I didn’t think it was an unknown stranger. Why would she drink wine with him? And I thought all along the GHB was the key thing. Where did it come from? It’s not that easy to obtain. Now maybe you could pick it up at a club but we couldn’t find any evidence of that. So I thought a vice-principal or principal might have been able to get some, because they’re in charge of hundreds of young people. But I couldn’t find any link between Deans or Shaughnessy and GHB.”

  “Until you found it in the personnel files,” said Lori.

  “That was just luck,” said Drumm.

  Lori laughed. “It wasn’t luck, it was good police work.”

  Drumm said, “Maybe. I’m just feeling sorry for myself, I guess, looking for sympathy. Sorry about that.” He finished his water and looked around for their server. “Going to order a real drink now. Maybe order a bottle of Puligny-Montrachet. What do you say?”

  Lori was horrified. “At $90 a bottle? No way!”

  “I was just kidding,” said Drumm with a smile. “To celebrate the end of a case, I always have champagne. Canadian champagne. Bubbles up the nose. Will you join me?”

  After the champagne was delivered to their table and opened and they clinked glasses, Lori said, “About that white wine, you realized it was important, didn’t you?”

  Drumm put his glass down. “At first I couldn’t understand why he took the bottle with him. Eventually it dawned on me that the type of wine must have been significant, that if we saw it, it would have identified the killer in some way. It wasn’t until I saw the bottle in Shaughnessy’s fridge and looked up its cost that I figured it out. Wish I’d gotten out there sooner.”

  Lori said, “A toast, to Sarah Noonan, as indecent as she was.”

  Drumm raised his glass. “To Sarah, and her indecent death.”

  epilogue

  Drumm’s garden was a mess. In the morning sunshine, it looked dreadful, so full of weeds that it was hard to see the flowers. He shook his head. “Will, get in there, will you, and dig all those suckers out.” But Will just looked at him and continued lying flat on his belly. His tongue came out and he panted a bit. Drumm looked at him again and realized he needed grooming. Shelties needed a good weeding too, every two or three months. It was just another thing he was behind on.

  Taking a breather from his exertions, he stood and thought back to the previous evening. He and Lori had drunk the rest of the champagne and his mood had lightened. He had paid for it later with a nasty headache but it had been worth it. He probably shouldn’t have driven home, but champagne was light and it had only been a half bottle after all. He and Lori had talked about the case some more, and they had discussed Karl’s situation. After awhile he knew that he was postponing going home and seeing Emily. Now why was that? Was it because he was enjoying chatting with Lori Singh? He was certainly comfortable with her. But that wasn’t it. He realized that he was a bit afraid of Emily’s reaction. They’d hardly seen each other the past few days and now he was about to come home late. And with alcohol on his breath. She could easily hit the roof.

  As it happened, though, Emily hadn’t been around when he got home. He had time to clean up and make a nice dinner for the two of them, and she was pleased and excited when she did show up. Pleased that he’d made supper, excited at closing another sale.

  Honestly, though, he had to wonder at the future of their relationship. Emily was emotional and unpredictable. And even though she was trying hard, how healthy was it that he always feared what she would think? He loved Emily but he loved his job too and he didn’t want to give either one of them up. Surely there was a way that he could keep both of them. Realistically, though, he knew that how Emily felt about things was beyond his control.

  Speculating about this was useless. Domestic chores were on the agenda for today. “Gardening is my business. Weeding is my business. Get to it, Drumm.” He bent over and started pulling weeds again.

  Emily came out of the house, holding the phone. “Nicky! Phone for you! It’s Mark Chappell.”

  Drumm looked ruefully at his garden, made a face at Emily and went to take the phone. Emily looked like she had something more to say to him but before she could, he gave her a hug and said, “And you are my business.” And for now, that was true.

  He kissed her lightly, took the phone and went into the house.

  Author’s Note

  An Indecent Death is the first book I wrote and much of it embarrasses me
when I read it now. I certainly didn’t intend for it to come out the way it did! However, it is still the most popular of my novels and it will stay as it is.

  I would like to stress that I never knew a principal like Jim Shaughnessy, thank goodness, nor a teacher like Sarah Noonan. Provocative clothing was not unheard of when I was teaching, and sex in the school certainly happened on occasion, but Sarah is an invention, pure and simple.

  The City of York is fictional, being an amalgam of Newmarket, Aurora and New Tecumseth.

  Shelties behave exactly as described in the novel.