15 Signs Of Murder (Fifteen thrillers)

by Luis Samways

  “My wife. She left me kid. My son doesn’t love me anymore. My family has been torn apart, and all that is left is this sorry heap of failure you see sitting next to you,” Alistair said, nearly welling up in the process.

  The boy smiled a smile only a boy could smile. He had a full set of white teeth, not counting the gap he had on the top front of his gum line. He was a classic looking kid. He was maybe seven years old. He had his whole life ahead of him, and sitting next to him, Alistair thought about how polar opposite they were. How much different that they were. It was as if the boy hadn’t experienced pain. For that reason, Alistair didn’t want to frighten the kid with his tale of woe. He decided that maybe it was best if the boy left.

  “Look kid. You don’t want to be chatting to me. I’m a sad man on one of the most magical nights of the year. This is the time of the year where you should be bugging your parents for a new toy, maybe window-shopping and staring at all the nice things you got coming your way. It isn’t any time to be talking to a middle aged man sitting on a bench outside of Wal-Mart. Go have fun kid. Leave the sorrow and pain to me, yeah?” Alistair said as he tried to sit up even straighter. He could feel the bench support his weight as he leant back into it and exhaled a cold burst of air from his lungs.

  He turned his head and smiled at the little boy who just sat there and smiled back.

  “You still here?” he asked.

  The boy nodded.

  “Yes Mister,” he replied.

  Alistair laughed for the first time in what seemed like forever. He ruffled the kid’s hair with his hand and nodded in defeat. It looked like his new friend was dead set on sticking around.

  “Why are you all by yourself?” he asked.

  The little boy shrugged his shoulders and dipped his head towards the floor. He didn’t make eye contact with Alistair.

  “Your parents know you are out alone talking to a stranger on a bench?” he said.

  The boy shook his head. “Mommy and daddy don’t know where I am. I left the house when daddy started to hurt mommy. I couldn’t help myself. I needed to get out, you see Mister?”

  The boy sniffled as the cold wind blew in their direction. At that moment, a few car horns sounded off outside the mall. A commotion was breaking out between two men who were fighting over parking spaces. Alistair decided to ignore the ruckus that was going on a few meters away from the bench.

  “What’s your name?” he asked as he clasped his hands together in the cold. “My friends call me tiny,” the boy said. “Tiny? You got a first name?” Alistair asked. “My mommy said not to tell strangers my name,” the boy said as he finally looked back up at Alistair.

  “Well at least you know that,” Alistair laughed. “Doesn’t make a difference Tiny. I’m sure if you thought I was dangerous, you’d have left a long time ago,” Alistair said as he got out a cigarette and lit it up. He was feeling a lot better. He felt a lot more sober now. He was craving more liquor but decided that he would wait on the bench. The person he was waiting for was still in the mall. He had watched her go in, all happy and gleeful. Oh how it made him angry. He couldn’t wait to confront her. Her and that bastard she was with.

  “Are you a dangerous man?” Tiny asked. “No, no, no. Of course I’m not. Trust me kid. There are a whole lot more dangerous people out there. The world is full of them. Scum bags. Drug addicts, paedophiles…,” Alistair stopped talking when he saw the boy’s eyes moisten up a little. He didn’t want to upset the boy. He immediately regretted opening his mouth. “But that doesn’t matter, Tiny. Bad people exist, but there are plenty of good people. You seem like a good person,” Alistair smiled.

  Tiny nodded his head. His little puffer jacket creased up as he sat up straight, mimicking Alistair. It made him laugh. The little boy was a riot. A really nice kid. He felt such a happiness come over him. Even though his thoughts were hampered by the nagging image of his wife with another man, he still felt happy, if only for that very short moment in time.

  Alistair and the boy talked for what seemed like a very long time. The car park around the mall emptied gradually until Alistair realised it was nearly deserted. He felt a panic rise in him. Did he miss his chance? Was it gone for good? But then he saw what he was looking for. A black SUV still remained idle in its parking space. It was the car he had been staring at since he sat down on the bench a few hours ago. He knew the waiting game he was playing could take a while. Christmas Eve shopping is one of the busiest times of the year. The person he was waiting for could be in the mall for a very long time.

  He looked down at his watch. It was only 10pm. He was in luck; the near vacated parking lot was a godsend. Now he would be able to spot the entrance to the mall better. Maybe he’d be able to see her exit. Maybe he’d get lucky and spot them before they spotted him.

  “Mister?” the boy asked.

  Maybe he could talk some sense into her.

  “Mister? Can you hear me?”

  But there was one problem.

  The damn boy.

  He was still sitting on the bench, asking questions, making conversation, getting in the way.

  He liked the boy, but he needed his space. He just didn’t know how to turn away such a nice little boy.

  “Mister?” Tiny said once again.

  This time Alistair looked at the attention seeking boy as he watched the boy’s eyes fill up with joy. It was obvious Tiny needed a friend. It was fitting really, seeing Alistair needed a friend, too. Maybe it was a sign. Whatever was going on, Alistair felt as if he needed to get his head screwed on tighter, or he’d risk it falling off and fucking up everything he had envisioned.

  “You’re a good listener kid, anyone ever tell you that?” he asked.

  The little boy shrugged his shoulders once again, scrunching his puffer jacket up as he did so.

  “I don’t know. Maybe, can’t remember,” he said.

  “Well you are. The thing is Tiny; I need to meet someone real special. They are expecting me you see? And it wouldn’t be right for a boy of you age to witness me meeting this person. Do you understand?”

  The boy shrugged his shoulders once more. He had a look of complete confusion on his face.

  “I don’t get it,” Tiny said.

  “You don’t get what?” Alistair asked, his voice showing the strain of his patience wearing thin.

  “I don’t get why you have to do it?” the boy asked.

  Now Alistair had a look of confusion on his face. Was this kid fucking with him? He felt as if his anger was about to take over. It was then that he decided to breathe in deep, and exhale. This kid didn’t deserve to see him lose his temper. Especially if he was used to that sort of thing at home. He didn’t understand why he felt he owed that kid the courtesy of being nice. Something in his core was telling him to do so, but he just couldn’t put his finger on the reason why he felt he had to.

  “Tiny, I’m being serious now. It’s late. Passed ten o’clock in the evening. You need to get yourself home before your parents wonder where you have gotten to. You don’t want to get into trouble now, do you?” he said.

  “But why do you have to do it?” Tiny persisted.

  Alistair was about to explode. He could feel it in him. He could feel it rise up his throat like a bad batch of heartburn.

  “For fuck sake, do what?” he bellowed.

  Suddenly the boy had gone. In the blink of an eye, the kid that was sitting beside him had vanished. Alistair got up, frantically looking around. The parking lot was empty beside from the lone SUV, and the pathway adjacent to the bench he was sitting on held no signs of Tiny walking on them.

  “Tiny?” he shouted.

  No reply.

  Nothing but the bitter cold surrounded him. He felt an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. Could he have imagined the boy sitting next to him? Could he have hallucinated the whole damn thing? Was he going nuts?

  “Tiny? I didn’t mean to shout at you,” he said.

  A lonely feeling came over
him. An overbearing feeling of guilt and shame. He felt like he was going to cry. He plonked himself back on the bench and clasped his face within the palms of both his hands. He could feel the tears rolling down his cheeks. He could hear the endless drone of the wind as it hit his back. He stopped sobbing and reached in for his wallet. He pulled his wallet out of his jacket and undid the clasp. He sat there and stared at the picture of his estranged wife. The picture was folded, concealing something behind it. He unfolded it and saw his son. The picture of his son looked familiar. He knew what his boy looked like, but Tiny held an uncanny resemblance to his boy.

  “Bobby. I miss you,” he said as he started to cry.

  If only his son was still alive. His little boy had died a few years ago. Hit and run. It was an unfortunate accident. They had never caught the perpetrator. Alistair felt as if it was his son’s passing that had destroyed his marriage. He and Kate had never been the same since. She just didn’t love him anymore. He still loved her though.

  “Oh Bobby,” he whaled.

  Suddenly he heard laughter. He turned his head and saw two people come out of the Mall holding bags and bags of gifts. They were talking and playing, both looked like they were having one of the best days of their lives. He recognised the laughter. It was uncanny. He had heard her laugh like that before. Back when she used to laugh at his jokes. Back when he used to make her happy. But now somebody else was fulfilling that role. Someone else had taken her. And that person was no more than fifty meters away from the bench.

  Alistair got up, dropping the wallet and picture on the ground. He didn’t even notice his possessions hitting the cold, icy floor. He was too immersed in his rage. Too caught up in the moment. He stood there for a few seconds as he watched the couple load up the SUV. It was time for him to act.

  He started walking towards the big black car. He could hear the laughter from his ex-wife get louder with every step he took. He reached into the inside of his jacket and pulled out a gun. He turned the length of the bonnet of the car and stopped dead in his tracks. He saw his ex-wife kiss the man as the trunk was shut. The sound of the door clasping shut echoed off the stiff breeze that filtered through the parking lot. They hadn’t even noticed Alistair standing there, watching them cuddle up in the cold. It was only when both of them took their eyes of each other, and settled them in front that they realised someone was standing in their way.

  A look of horror washed over his ex-wife’s face.

  “Alistair, is that you? My god. What happened?” she said. Her companion didn’t look too pleased. He was just as stumped as Kate.

  “You happened you spiteful bitch,” he said, clenching the gun to his side, just low enough that neither of them knew he was holding it.

  “Hey, easy pal. That’s my fiancé you are talking to,” the guy at her side said in a calm, but assertive voice.

  Alistair didn’t even look at the man when he raised his gun and shot him in the head. Before the guy had hit the floor, Alistair had his mouth over his ex-wife’s mouth. He could hear her muffled cries for help. Her eyes were wide open in fear.

  “You know Kate, you have ruined my life. Completely obliterated it, in fact. You get married to me, spend fifteen years with me, our son dies, and then you leave? So you thought that would be acceptable? You thought me losing my son wasn’t enough, and now you are engaged? To this fucker…Too bad he won’t make the wedding. Pretty nasty head wound he’s got there,” Alistair said.

  Kate’s eyes were filling up with tears. The parking lot was still empty; the lights from the mall were being turned off when Alistair shot his wife in the stomach.

  “A husband is for life, not just for Christmas,” he said as he shot her again and again. The gunshots sounded muffled in the quiet night. The buzzing of the generators nearby had stopped any sound from escaping.

  Alistair watched as his ex-wife bled out on the parking lot floor next to her dead fiancé. He watched as her eyes grew lifeless. He knew she was dead after a minute or so. The look of terror had vanished from her eyes. All that remained was her glazed over pupils as they grew ever smaller until they were no bigger than a period at the end of a sentence.

  ‘Why did you do it?’ was the second to last thing that ran through his head. The first was the bullet that he had shot himself with, leaving three bodies and an SUV parked up just outside of the north side mall.

  What a mess.

  Do they even employ cleaners on Christmas day?

  Chandelier

  A short

  Phil Rogers walked into the living room. He could see the excited expressions on his two children’s faces as he stopped near the Christmas tree and smiled at his two youngsters. They ran up to him and gave him a hug.

  “Daddy, you’re home! You’re home daddy!” the youngest said.

  “Hi Kyle!” Phil laughed as his son gripped at his waist.

  His daughter Lucy was holding on for dear life onto his leg. It was moments like this that the hard hours at the office really paid off. Seeing his kids that excited to be in his company was beyond anything he could describe with words. He soaked in all the love that his two little kids had for him. He played with them for an hour and talked to them freely without a care in the world. He was loving every moment of it, relishing in the finest things in his life, his two babies, his two miracles, his two children.

  Some time passed and Christmas Eve rolled on. Phil and his kids were fooling around in the modest living room that was decorated with decorations and smelt of eggnog. He was having a blast and so was his kids. They loved their special time with daddy. They adored him. They worshiped the ground that he walked on, and for good reason too. Phil Rogers was a great dad. He was caring and listened to his children. He was a good husband and a mighty friend. There wasn’t one person in the neighbourhood that could put a bad word towards his name.

  No sir, not one.

  Phil looked at the time that was beaming from the wall in the form of an old styled grandfather clock and sat up quickly. He had been sat on the living room floor, toes curled into the carpet like a kid with his legs crossed, listening to his children talk about school and life in general. He had realised that time had managed to escape him. He stood up and brushed his smart pants down. He could see tiny fibres of carpet sticking to his attire. He smiled down at his two baffled kids.

  “Where are you going Daddy?” his daughter Lucy asked.

  “Daddy has to run an errand sweetie. I won’t be long. Santa is waiting for me. I can’t let him down now, can I?” he said with a hint of magic to his voice. “Why don’t you watch a DVD or something? I tell you what, how about that Arnold Schwarzenegger movie….Jingle All The Way?” he said to a cheer from his kids. They sure loved that movie.

  Phil rummaged through the DVD stand and found the near tattered DVD. It had been through the mill that was for sure. The kids had played that movie a dozen times that week alone. He had to buy a new one every year. Somehow they had always managed to scratch the disk every year, and somehow he had managed to find a working copy just in time for Christmas. He would be lost without Amazon.com.

  “Now you kids sit tight and wait for daddy to return. If you are well behaved, and mommy tells me you have been nothing but angels, I might bring you back an early present. How’s that?” he said.

  His kids nodded emphatically as they gave him one last glance before they became engrossed in the DVD menu of their favourite film. Phil pressed play on the remote and watched them turn their attention to the movie. A feeling of unconditional love overcame him as his heart filled with joy. For a moment he had nearly forgotten about his planned rendezvous outside of the family home. It was then when he realised what he had to do that the joy of Christmas had suddenly disappeared and he had to strap on his adult cap before leaving the house.

  He walked out of the living room and went into the kitchen. His wife was slaving over the stove looking beautiful as she sweated over pots and pans full of treats. He walked up behind her and slipped his
hand under her apron. He managed to grab a feel of her perky breasts and fondled them. She turned her head and smiled at him.

  “Why hello Mister,” she said.

  He gave her a hug and nibbled on her ear. “I need to do some last minute shopping. I hope you don’t mind, but the kids are watching a movie. They won’t be much of a bother. I won’t be too long. I’ll bring you back something nice,” he whispered into her ear.

  “Okay dear. Don’t be too long. Dinner will be ready in an hour and then we need to put the kids to bed. After that, who knows what could happen,” she said playfully.

  “Okay dear,” he said, letting go of his wife and turning around to make his way out of the house. He grabbed his car keys and wallet. He draped a coat over his shoulders and opened the front door. The cold managed to make its way into the house for a moment before the door was shut and Phil was gone.

  His wife turned her head slightly and looked at the door in which her husband had just gone through. She always missed her husband immensely when he wasn’t with her. Even then, she could feel herself longing for his presence. She decided to put the spatula down and venture into the living room to see what the kids were up to. She stayed quiet and surveyed them from the doorway separating the kitchen from the living room. She didn’t want to disturb them so she stood there in silence, watching them watch the movie. Her mind wandered a little as she did so. She was in full thought when the egg timer in the kitchen awoke her from her slumber. She blinked a few times and looked around the living room. The Christmas tree was standing tall. It was near dazzling with all its lights and tinsel. She felt a smile creep across her face. It felt good to be her. It really did. How lucky could one woman be?

  She was just about to attend to her stove full of goodies when she spotted the chandelier hanging above the kid’s head. It was a nice looking centrepiece for the living area. She had always loved it with all her heart. It made her feel like she lived in a palace, even though in reality it was far from that. She smiled and nodded her head. She could be a Princess if she wanted. She sure had a Prince of a husband who she loved dearly. Fairy tale or not, her life was still magical, and she was ever so thankful for whoever was responsible for mapping it out for her.