The Devil's in My Bathroom
Page 4
CHAPTER THREE: The Devil’s Triangle
Andie was a little unnerved after recalling that dream but was glad to see Benny’s spirits had lifted.
“I’m going to finish chopping these onions so we’ll have something to eat later,” she said to Benny, as she walked into the kitchen. She wanted to quit thinking about the dream.
“Do you need any help in there?” he asked.
“No, I’m okay. Why don’t you relax? You’ve had a rough night.” Benny turned on the TV. He sat on the couch and looked at the empty pizza boxes and beer cans Nick didn’t quite get to. He shook his head in disgust. He decided to be brave and breathe through his nose. He took a little whiff, and to his surprise, it smelled pretty good. It also happened to be an intense and familiar scent.
Benny smiled a little and said, “You know, Andi, I can still imagine the smell of Kat’s perfume.”
Andie replied, “On second thought, why don’t you come in here and help me chop these onions. That’ll make you forget that smell.” Benny flipped the channel to a local news program, and then headed to the kitchen to help Andie.
The voice from the TV sounded, “So if you want to have breasts like Julie, order the BreastMaster today. Only $39.95.” This commercial always caught Benny’s attention.
The news reporter returned from the break. “This just in,” he said, as he read from the teleprompter. “Details are sketchy at this time, but a man identified as Zipper Down, drummer for the local band, The Cramping Violets, has been found dead in his Deville Creek apartment. The cause of death is not known at this time. We’ll have more information on this as it develops. In other news, the….”
Benny stared at the TV in a cold shock. “Oh – my – God. Andie – did you just hear that?”
Andie was in the kitchen, but heard the whole thing. “Oh, oh,” she muttered. She didn’t care about Zipper Down. She was afraid of what was about to happen.
Benny went ballistic. “That’s the guy Kat left the party with last night. Oh – my – God. What if she killed him? Oh, no. I’m in love with a murderer. What if she wants to come back and kill me? Oh – my – God. I’ve got to call the police. No, wait - I’ve got to save her.”
Andie ran in and grabbed Benny. “Settle down, Benny,” she said. “You’re jumping to conclusions.” The bathroom door opened and out popped Nick. He was wearing a Guns ‘N Roses World Tour t-shirt and jeans he found crumbled on the bathroom floor.
“What’s all the screaming about?” asked Nick. The quick shower had wakened him a little more.
“Kat just killed the drummer,” yelled Benny.
“Who did what?” asked Nick.
Andie stepped in for the hysterical Benny. “We just heard on the news that Zipper Down was just found dead.” Both Andie and Benny expected Nick to be shaken by the news. Instead, Nick shook his head in disappointment.
“That’s just great,” he said. “Satan was right and now we’ll have to find a replacement drummer.”
“Darn it, Nick,” yelled Benny. “That’s the guy Kat left the party with last night and probably killed.”
Nick always welcomed the chance to prove the boss wrong. “No, she didn’t,” he chuckled.
“What makes you say that?” asked Benny.
Nick was about to blurt it out. “Because, she was…”
“Not the type of person that would kill anyone, I think, from what you told us about her,” said Andie.
Nick wasn’t helping out the situation. “Unless she screwed him to death,” he added.
“Nick,” yelled Andie.
Benny blew off Nick’s little remark. “What am I going to do?” he cried.
“Benny, you don’t even know how he died yet,” said Andie. “You’re not even sure if Kat slept with him, or for that matter, even left the party with him. It’s all hearsay – so pull yourself together.”
“Besides, rock drummers are never murdered,” said Nick. “They either overdose, drown, choke on vomit, drink themselves to death – or even worse.”
Andie had to question Nick. “What on Earth could possibly be worse than all that?”
“They become insurance agents,” said Nick.
Benny had heard enough. “Will you two please shut up? My God, this is horrible. I’m sure Kat is involved in this in some way.”
Nick was tired of Benny’s whining. “Look, man, so what if she did kill him. Who cares? You got no ties to this chick anymore. Are you forgetting the fact she just dumped your sorry ass?” Nick’s New Orleans accent continued to pop in from time to time. He picked it up from the years he spent there.
“Why do I keep getting hurt by women?” asked Benny.
“Benny, we just talked about that,” said Andie.
“It happens to the best of us,” assured Nick.
“It never happens to you,” moaned Benny, as he sneered at Nick.
Nick smiled and said, “That’s because I have a special method I use.”
“And what would that be?” asked an interested Andie.
“I never let my heart get involved,” said Nick. “That way, if the girl tries to screw you over before you have the chance to do it to her, you don’t get hurt.”
Andie was disturbed. “That is so sad.”
“Don’t you get lonely?” asked Benny.
“Hey, I’ve got my music, my job, and my friends,” said Nick. “What else do I need?”
“What about your bimbos?” asked Andie.
“Okay, so maybe I like to get laid every once in a while. Is that a crime?”
“You could get arrested for some of the ones I’ve seen you with,” said Andie.
“They are all of age,” assured Nick.
“Of course they are,” said Andie. “Some of them even have their learner’s permit.”
“I’m sorry, you two, but I’ve got a lot of sorting out to do,” sighed Benny. “I’m going to use the phone in the bedroom, if you don’t mind. I’ve got to find out what’s going on with this whole mess.”
“Go for it, man,” said Nick. “Oh – you might have to reconnect the phone once you find it.”
Benny went into the bedroom. It took him a few minutes to find the phone, but he succeeded. Nick and Andie stayed in the front room. Both had a look of disappointment.
“You were doing such a good job of helping Benny,” said Andie, “until now.”
“It’s just as well,” said Nick. “Satan told me this morning that someone I knew had just been murdered and I didn’t believe him. I guess the old sucker of souls was right about that one. So, I hope you can see why helping Benny is not exactly on the top of my list right now.”
Andie was mystified as she stared at Nick for a few seconds, then replied, “You need help…insurance agents? Really?”
Meanwhile, in the African country of Nigeria, near the city of Yola, a fax machine was spewing out legal documents by the dozens. A young Nigerian boy grabbed the papers and rode his bicycle to a small village on the outskirts of town. He ran into a rundown shanty, which was built from bamboo and straw. He handed the documents to a white-haired gentleman who was sipping on his Jack Daniels, straight from the bottle. He smiled at the young boy, put a signature on the documents, and gave him 2000 Nairas. The boy smiled and looked at the signature. It read William Joseph Wainwright. The man knew the boy couldn’t read. The boy just knew that when the man scribbled on the bottom of a page, it meant money for him. He told the boy to wait a minute for something else to bring back into town. He signed an invoice for another 500 pounds of snakeskin to be delivered to Milan, Italy. The boy took the invoice, along with the documents, and went back into the city. The white-haired gentleman called for the truck take the delivery to the airport. He lay in his hemp hammock and finished off the rest of his Jack Daniels.
In Milan, Italy, teams of snakeskin experts were studying the latest shipment from Africa. A lady with rigorous quality standards ran the company they worked for. After the skins were determined to be authentic anaconda, they sent the in
voice to their boss. She was pleased with the results as she sipped from a glass a red wine. It was from her personal cellar, stocked with nothing but products from her own vineyard. Knowing she had enough raw materials to start her next project, she wrote a check to be sent to a talent agency in Los Angeles. They were picked as having the best campaign proposal for modeling the next style of snakeskin boots. She signed the check Lucille Fernelli.
In Los Angeles, a talent agency was busy finishing their contract obligation for the BreastMaster exercise machine and was preparing the photo shoot for the boots. The owner of the agency took a sip of Crown and Coke as he stared where his left hand used to be. He was trying out his fourth prosthetic hand. He was having a difficult time finding one he deemed suitable. He lost his hand when he was first starting up the talent agency. They were filming a low-budget show called Crocodile Crazies. He had to sit in for one of the actors one day. It wasn’t a good day for him. He studied his latest project, which involved the purchase of a record company. After careful consideration, he signed a check and mailed it to the firm handling the transaction. The name on the check was Gary Bell and the law firm was Wainwright and Grimes. The man poured himself another drink and was ready for business. The triangle had come full circle.
A knock was heard at the door at Nick’s apartment.
“Must be Satan,” said Nick.
“Please, Nick,” requested Andie. “No devil comments.” Andie wasn’t comfortable with Nick’s delusion of thinking Tony was the Prince of Darkness. She nudged Nicked towards the waiting door.
Nick shuffled to the door, put a death grip on the handle and muttered, “Sometimes I feel like I’m living in the devil’s triangle.”