by Luis Samways
Mandy was a stunning woman who had a knack for getting her own way. The only person who didn’t respond to such traits was her husband, Roger. She loved him for that. That was why she had been with him for twenty seven years. That’s why she was working on their marriage. Love, for her, was him. She forgave him for his past discrepancies. She understood a man in power needs a thrill. She was just adamant that the next thrill her husband would be getting was from her, and not some stranger Roger decided to fornicate with.
She forgave him though. A man, after all, is only as perfect as the woman he is with. She understood her part in things. But she wasn’t there to dwell. She was there to have fun.
“So come on, let’s do this!” she said, nearly whooing, like an excited teenage girl on spring break.
Roger broke into a sweat. He was nervous. He hadn’t been with his wife for a while. Not since the incident. But he was excited. She looked amazing. He was remembering why he married her in the first place. Besides her fabulous figure and a tremendous appetite for pleasure, she was his rock. He knew he had done wrong. And it was time to repay his debt to her. He had a long list of things he was planning to do that night, and neither of them involved one ounce of sleep.
“Coming,” he said, wrapping his strong hands around her firm waste.
The middle-aged gorgeous couple walked side by side into the seedy motel. Once the doors opened, neither of them would be the same again.
Cue a night of fearsome make-up sex….and death.
Two
“You don’t actually think we have a chance this year, do ya?” Santiago said as he grabbed a betting slip from the rack in front of us.
“Bruins always have a chance,” I said, watching my partner fill in the accumulators for me. I wasn’t one for getting my hands dirty. That was the tradition, I cough up the money and San fills in the slips. We would split it whenever we won. That was the deal. Seems like a bad one on my part, seeing Santiago never actually put any money in, but it wasn’t like we were betting big. It was always only ever twenty bucks. That’s my limit.
“That’s crazy talk. Rangers look to be closing in on the gap. If they don’t win the Cup, then I’d be surprised if we even get to the Playoffs,” Santiago mumbled as he filled out my picks.
“That’s why they call it betting San, you’re supposed to go AGAINST the feasible to attain the pot of gold!”
Santiago chuckled as he put the pen down and handed me the slip.
“No, you do it. That guy behind the counter doesn’t like me much,” I said.
San nodded his head, as if he had already heard why.
“Not many people like you Frank. Hasn’t stopped you in the past.”
“Something to do with me busting his nephew for slanging rock downtown,” I said, grabbing some cash from my pocket and handing it to the bronzed hand of my partner. He and I were opposites. He’s tanned and good looking. I’m pale and rugged. The perfect mixture of diversity. It goes down well at the PD ball. Everyone loves an ethnic odd couple.
We walked to the counter and buzzed the bell. A fat guy behind a pane of glass mumbled something under his breath as San slid the slip under the gap between us. The fat guy behind the counter nodded and gave us a ticket stub. In exchange, Santiago flicked a twenty under the gap.
“He doesn’t think you like him,” Santiago bellowed rather loudly, pointing at me and pulling a face. The guy behind the counter frowned and shrugged his shoulders unapologetically. “Well, at least he aint as stupid as he looks,” the fat guy said, turning his back on us and looking up at his small TV he had propped up on his counter.
“Well, that’s sorted. How about we go and grab a bite to eat?” San said, punching me on the arm. “Yeah, why not? Hoagies it is,” I said.
Then the fun ended when my cell phone buzzed. I fished it out of my jacket pocket and put it to my ear.
“Detective Frank McKenzie?” I said, looking at Santiago who was rolling his eyes. We had just finished a sixteen hour shift and were looking to wind-down before hitting the sack. But a vibrating cell can mean only one thing.
No sleep for us. Or fun for that matter.
“Hey Frank. You still with Santiago?” the voice on the other end said. That voice belonged to my boss, Chief Shaw. He had the habit of asking rhetorical questions. Mostly, it didn’t matter what I said, because he’d assume I already answered back, even if I didn’t. “Good, I need you two to come in.” I hadn’t answered back. “Mayor ordered a briefing on the drug’s case you two were working on. Seems urgent, I wouldn’t keep the man waiting,” he said.
I stood there for a minute and waited for a pause in the conversation. Shaw would usually ramble and as usual, I would wait to answer all questions asked with a yes. But this time I was curious, so I actually asked one.
“It’s 2am boss. Surely the Mayor has better things to do than brief us about a drugs case?” I said. “Non-negotiable Frank. If the Mayor wants to have a tea party at 2 o’clock in the morning, then we shall oblige. Got it? Now get a hustle on, and tell Santiago to change his clothes. I saw what he was wearing today and a Bob Marley T-shirt may be okay for home-time and all, but I don’t want the Mayor thinking my boys smoke spliffs on their downtime.”
The cell went dead and I put it back into my pocket.
“Work?” San said, looking a little glum. “Yeah.”
Both of us walked out of the betting shop and got into our Ford Capri. I drove, San sulked.
“Fuck man, I really hate all this late night BS,” he said.
I took an easy left and put my foot down a little on the accelerator.
“What’s the rush?” San asked.
“The Mayor wants a meeting. Don’t want to be late,” I said.
“A meeting? Doesn’t he have a life…or a damn bed?” Santiago moaned as we took the straight leading to the precinct.
“No, it appears he doesn’t. By the way, Shaw wants you out of that shirt. He said he’s fed up with your marijuana smoking and if you don’t ship up, he’s sending you to rehab.”
“I don’t smoke weed….Whatever Frank. If he doesn’t like my damn shirt, that’s just too bad! I’ll wear it all the time! Day and night, never gonna take it off now,” he said.
I changed gear and looked at Santiago sitting next to me.
“it’s okay buddy, I like your shirt.”
Santiago shook his head and gave me the finger.
“Just get us to this meeting.”
Three
Mandy and Roger were kissing passionately when there was a knock at the door.
Two heavy thuds.
Bang. Bang.
They were hard and strangely menacing. Something about the knocks translated a certain edge of urgency.
“Don’t answer it baby. We are busy,” Mandy said, undoing Roger’s fly.
Roger pulled away from his gorgeous wife and did his zipper back up. He gave her an apologetic smile and caressed her face. “Could be important,” he said.
Mandy shook her head. She didn’t like being interrupted. Especially when she wanted quality time with her husband. It seemed as if the whole world wanted to ruin her perfect evening. She was determined to put an end to it as quickly as possible.
“I’ll answer the damn door. You get undressed. Whoever it is, I’ll send them away. It’s 2am for Christ’s sake!”
Mandy pulled her bra strap up and brushed her hair back with her hands. Her dress was still halfway on her body. All she needed to do was wiggle it back into place. She did so and went towards the door. Roger jumped on the bed and started to undo his shirt one button at a time. He was having trouble with it, so he ripped it off.
“Hurry up!” he said excitedly.
Mandy broke into a smile as she reached the door. She peeked through the spyhole and saw a man with his back to the door standing in the hallway. He was wearing a suit. She gathered it was one of their security personal. They must’ve tracked them to the hotel. It irritated her that they had followed the
m.
“Looks like one of Bob’s men found us,” she said, undoing the latch and opening the door.
She stood there with a smile on her face. It soon disappeared when she noticed what the man in the suit was holding in his left hand. It was a knife. It glinted slightly in the dim lights coming from the crooked fixtures on the hallway walls.
She was about to scream but the man turned around, putting his hand across her mouth and stuck the knife in her throat. The blade went into the left side of her neck. Her carotid artery exploded on the impact of the knife going in. Blood sprayed onto the open hotel door. Some reached as high as the doorframe. Droplets of blood dotted her face. She collapsed into a heap on the welcome mat under the doorframe.
Roger was still undoing his shirt buttons when he heard a thud. His eyes widened a little in curiosity. He sat up slowly and attempted to see if he could spot his wife. A large wall that belonged to the en suite bathroom was blocking his vision. It stretched a little too far to the left for him to be able to see the doorway. He was just about to get up and walk over to the door when he heard footsteps coming toward him.
“I hope you told Bob’s man to fuck off. We have our own lives. He should know that. He’s always on holiday himself.”
The footsteps stopped suddenly.
“Mandy? Are you okay?”
The room went silent.
“Mandy?”
Then the sound of footsteps returned. This time they were faster. Like someone was running. It took only two seconds for Roger to realize something was wrong. But by then it was too late. The man in the suit ran into the room and stood at the foot of the bed. Roger’s mouth was ajar. His heart was thumping in his chest. He saw the bloodied knife the man had in his hand. He didn’t recognize the persons face. Before he could do anything, the man took two massive strides towards him. Roger was struck with fear. He couldn’t move. It only took one second of hesitation. And another for him to be mortally wounded.
The man struck Roger in the chest with the knife. It punctured his left lung, making the air hiss out of his chest. He struck Roger again. This time in the neck. A spray of blood exploded onto the headboard. Roger was choking on his own blood. The third strike caught him in the face. It sliced his tongue in half. The fourth was to the right eye. That was the fatal strike. What was even worse about the fourth strike wasn’t the fact that when the killer took the knife out of his eye, the eyeball dislodged from its socket. It was the fact that Roger saw it coming. Every millisecond of it was engrained into his brain before he died. Every inch of the knife going in was felt. The tip of the knife hitting his brain was the only reason he didn’t feel it coming out of his skull.
The man with the knife smiled. He had dark and rotted teeth. It was a strange combination: bad teeth – good suit. But he pulled it off, unless he smiled, but luckily for him, he wasn’t much of a smiler.
He wiped the blood off the knife in the bathroom sink. It took all of eight seconds to kill Roger. A little longer for his wife, but not by much. The man was happy with his timing. It was his best yet. Something to be proud of in fact. He brushed a little bit of lose hair off his fringe and shot himself a grin. He concealed the knife in his inside pocket and breathed a sigh of relief. He was back to looking dapper again. No blood on his black suit. No blood on his hands. A clean kill indeed.
He walked out of the room and made his way out of the hotel. He was long gone before anybody noticed the two bodies lying in a pool of their own blood.
Four
The meeting with the Mayor was a little shorter than I had thought it would be. For some strange reason, Shaw had forgotten to mention that the Mayor wasn’t interested in meeting us for a briefing on a drugs case, he was interested in meeting us for something else entirely. Something that Shaw knew I wouldn’t want any part of. A promotion. A damn pay rise.
“I don’t need the hassle, sir,” I said to the Mayor after Shaw informed us of the real reason behind this meeting.
We had walked into the Chief’s office a little after half two in the morning. The smell of stale smoke and grounded coffee made me feel nauseous. The sight of my boss’s fake smile nearly made me vomit. I knew we had been duped as soon as I saw his crooked face giving me the “I tricked you Frank” face he was so famous for donning once he got one up on me. It’s not like we are in competition with each other but I swear he has a personal agenda when it comes to making me angry.
“You will take this promotion. If you don’t, I’ll fire you. No pension. No benefits. No cases. You’ll be a washed up shell of your former self before you know it. I’ll give it two weeks before you slit your own wrists,” Shaw said to me, sitting across the table.
Santiago was close to tears. He was holding in some laughter. I could practically hear his belly rumbling under the build-up of joy bursting through him. I know my partner fairly well, and knowing him as well as I do, I am certain of the fact that he was enjoying every second of this. He knew how much I hated the politics of the job and now I was being offered a place at the table so to speak. They wanted to make me a damn Lieutenant. The right hand man to the Chief of Police. Shaw’s own glorified lackey. After all these years, he wanted me to pay for everything I had ever done wrong. Every snide comment. Every case I fumbled. Every witness I harassed. Every killer I killed, in self-defence may I add.
“I won’t take this promotion. You can fire me all you like, I’ll just get a job with the feds. Doesn’t bother me. I’d even take a damn Highway Patrol spot before I ever take a position next to that asshole.”
Santiago’s held in laughter didn’t subside this time. He burst out into hysterics, wiping the tears from his eyes.
“Oh man, I love my job!” he cackled.
Shaw didn’t look as happy. His round Irish face was flushed with anger. A red hue had broken across his forehead and beads of sweat were sliding down his nose. The Mayor sat beside him. He looked visibly disturbed. As if he hadn’t ever heard such language escape the police before. He was one of those smarmy do-gooders who would much rather eat cake and drink tea than talk about the problems on our streets. I didn’t like the man. I was holding my tongue though. I could only afford to piss off one of those men in that room. The other was a guy you didn’t mess with. The Mayor may be an asshole, but he is the damn Mayor. And whatever he says, goes.
“Mr McKenzie, I would suggest that you take this new position. It would do you good. You’d make more money. You’d be more of an asset to us if you were fighting the war on crime from your desk, instead of…”
I interrupted him.
“Instead of from the frontline?” I asked.
Shaw chimed in.
“Frank, you need to take this job. I can’t cover for you anymore. The next perp you assault will land both you and I in prison. I can’t fight off the DA anymore. He wants you out. I on the other hand need you here. You are my best detective.”
Santiago grimaced.
“Thanks boss. I understand that I’m no Frank McKenzie, but I think I am at least a tenth better than him at public relations.”
Shaw looked at Santiago and shook his head.
“For God’s sake Santiago, I’m trying to convince your damn partner to take a job that will keep him out of trouble, and all you’re interested in is proving who is the better cop.”
“I am,” I interrupted.
“Enough!” the Mayor shouted. He stood up and combed his hair back with his fingers. “I trust you’ll have this sorted out before I get back. I’m going for a leak. I expect this matter to be closed before I wash my hands. Got it?”
We all nodded. He left the room. I stood up and went for my coat.
“Where are you going?” Shaw asked.
“Home. I can’t be bothered to hash this out right now. I’ll be in tomorrow.”
I was just about to go for the door when Shaw burst out of his seat.
“Don’t you dare walk through that door Frank! Can’t you see that I’m trying to help you?”
I turned back around and saw Shaw leaning over his desk, as if he was ready to pounce from afar. Santiago on the other hand was now donning a new expression on his face. He didn’t look like he was holding in anymore laughter.
“I told you I’m not going to do it, Shaw!” I hissed, grabbing at the door handle. “Then compromise!” Shaw bellowed before I managed to turn the knob.
I turned back around once again and walked up to his desk. I thumped my fist on the hard mahogany and licked my lips. I was seething with anger. I couldn’t for the life of me work out why Shaw was jerking me around like this. He seemed to generally want me as his right hand man. I didn’t know if it was a respect thing or if it was a saving his ass thing. Either way, I didn’t want any part of it. But I was willing to do it on my terms. Obviously, there was a catch. If there is one thing that I have learned doing this job, there is always a catch.
“Okay, fine,” I said, clearing my throat. Shaw’s face went a strange colour, as if a rush of relief went coursing through his pours. “I’ll consider it,” I said.
“There is nothing to consider,” Shaw demanded.
“Okay. Hear me out. I will prove to you that I can do my job without stepping on people’s toes. If I can prove that to you and the Mayor, then I can keep my current position. I’ll change if need be.”
Shaw looked surprised as he gave me the once over. I followed his eyes as they scanned me for weakness in my defences.
“That’s not good enough. This isn’t a game Frank. The odds are stacked against you. This is a onetime offer. You don’t accept, then you’ll be let go.”
“Look, I know that the only reason that you are forcing me to take the LT job is because you want the Mayor off your back.”
Shaw’s face went red once again.
“No, that’s not the reason!” he exploaded, nearly ripping my head clean off my shoulders with his forceful breathing. “I want you to take this job because you are nothing but a liability on the field. Every case you get, I get reports of sexism, racism, police brutality and intimidating the witness! Not to mention that you on occasion have been known to take anti-psychotics on the job! Plus the last case you worked on, three men died and the killer was detained with his penis missing. He says you did that to him and I believe him!”