Young and Hungry - For Life - 5. Murder, He Wrote

Craig came home from a night shift, just as Justin was preparing breakfast.

“Good morning my love, you’re right on time. Coffee’s ready and I’ll put the eggs on as soon as you give me a big morning kiss”

Craig gave Justin a peck on the lips, sat down and said “I really need coffee”

“Apparently more than you need me” replied a disappointed Justin. “You call that a kiss?”

“Sorry, I’m just a bit uneasy about the way some people at work are treating me”

“What do you mean?”

“Many of my old colleagues seem to be shunning me. Sure they are professional but not chatty or want to join me for coffee or lunch. I don’t know what I’ve done to them”

“Maybe it’s some form of jealousy that you left and were very successful in business, while they are still there doing the same work”

“Maybe”

“You know I’ve heard of this sort of thing happen to people when they leave a job and then return. Jared told me that once you leave the army, you are often not welcome to return, even if you bring all your experience back to the job, you are often regarded like a deserter” Justin replied, as he poured coffee.

“You think it’s that?”

“And remember your reason for returning is purely financial. Doesn’t nursing have a reputation for being the caring occupation, a calling, not just a job?”

“I think you’re right, but how do I convince them I’m still the same caring person I was before?”

“I don’t think you can, once you’ve been tagged as the deserter, who has only returned for the money”

“That’s pretty shitty of them”

“Is everyone you knew before, like that?”

“All except Rosemary, she’s really friendly. But even that’s a funny thing, we were never close before, now she’s my best mate at work”

“Then take advantage of that and ask her if she knows why the others are acting the way they are”

“Do I tell you often enough how smart you can be?”

“There is no often enough. Have you asked Romel what he thinks?”

“I don’t see Romel at the hospital. Since I left he has moved to the cardiac ward full time and doesn’t mix with the staff in general surgery”

“Bugger, I forgot the eggs, they’ll be like rocks now. I’ll put on some more”

“Don’t throw out the first lot, just put them in the fridge and they’ll do for egg salad sandwiches sometime”

“Now who’s the smart one?”

“I like to keep up with you”

***

Cook was in the middle of baking when Dante walked into the kitchen and asked Cook where she kept the bread.

“Are you hungry” she asked

“Sure am, digging works up an appetite.”

“You have an appetite, that’s good. I like a man with a good appetite”

“That’s me always hungry”

“Do you want me to make you a sandwich?”

“Thanks, bellisimo.”

“Did you bring your own meat?”

“I don’t understand”

“I asked if you wanted me to make YOU a sandwich” she emphasised and laughed.

“Are you suggesting what I think you are?”

“I would never be so forward to suggest such a thing, young man. It’s always up to the man to take the lead” she flirted and winked.

“Before you show me your sandwich making skills, can I ask you something? When we met, you introduced yourself as Mrs Cook. Is there a Mr Cook?”

“Oh him, not any more.”

“I’m sorry for your loss.”

“No, he didn’t die. When Mrs Price left the house and didn’t need her personal maid anymore, my husband went off with the slim, red headed, vegetarian.”

“Stupid man! Why settle for a carrot when he could have plump, full breasted, chicken on his plate.”

“You’re such a flirt, but it’s all good fun, I know you wouldn’t want someone old enough to be your mother.”

“Then you may be wrong. Age is irrelevant. It’s the desire that matters”

“Oh yes, there is a strong desire here”

“Then, do you have any margarine?” asked Dante.

“Of course not, I only use pure butter in my kitchen.”

“Even better” he replied “Where is it?”

“On the bench, it’s already soft and spreadable. Do you want that sandwich now?”

“Yes... and I have bought my own meat.”

“Some exotic Italian delicacy?”

“I hope you think so.”

“Well, put it out while I get the bread.”

Cook went to the pantry and returned with a fresh loaf of crusty grainy sourdough, which she then dropped in shock, when she saw Dante waiting fully naked by the table.

“Oh, you do want that type of sandwich? I haven’t had one of those in a long time, especially with such fresh meat. Are you sure about this?”

“I don’t offer want I can’t produce and I can tell you have an appetite that needs to be satisfied.”

“You aint wrong there boyo. But is the kitchen an appropriate place?”

“Where better, to make an Italian sausage sandwich?”

Dante walked towards Cook, picked up the loaf and put it on the bench. He then kneeled in front of her, put his hands just a few inches up her dress and asked “May I?”

“Please do” she replied, a little breathlessly.

Dante pulled down her panties and she stepped out of them. He put them aside, saying “I will put them back later? You’ll find I’m a very tidy boy.” Then he reached for the butter.

“I’m sure you are, but what is the butter for?”

“I want to put this as delicately as possible.”

“So far you’ve been the perfect gentleman.”

“Then I shall continue as such. I have found that a woman of mature years may sometimes not produce all the lubrication necessary for a smooth and comfortable entry. Are you with me?”

“I’m with you all the way boyo.”

He then removed the few utensils from the table and lifted Cook up to sit on the table with her legs over the edge. As he put her down, puffs of flour rose around her, creating a fine mist of mystery.

Then placing his hand in the middle of her back said “Relax, and lean back.” She did and he gently lowered her upper body to the flour covered table.

Dante then picked up the pat of butter, dug his tongue into it and scooped up a good dollop. Down on his knees, he lifted her dress a little, put his tongue in and spread the butter evenly.

***

Later in the day Thomas came bounding into the kitchen and asked “Is lunch ready Cook?”

While she was stacking the platter, Thomas noticed a very large tick on the white board, in the ‘C’ column. “What’s the meaning of this?” he asked

“Oh I’m glad you reminded me, I need to add something to my shopping list. Under the tick, Cook wrote in large uppercase letters, BUTTER.

***

While Edward was searching on line for writing ideas he was presented with a list of self-publishing sites. He had previously been unaware that such sites existed. There were a variety of options available. They included publish a whole book for sale as an ebook, some sites where you could publish a limited amount for free, then you had to pay. He didn’t think that was much of an option, having to pay to make your work available for free. Then he found a site for gay authors to publish so he signed up and started reading a story. At the end of the first chapter he noticed the reader was invited to give a thumbs up or some other reaction. He gave the chapter a like and then saw comments from previous readers. This interested Edward because he could publish a chapter at a time and hopefully get some feedback. He reasoned that if nobody liked his story he could scrap it and start again.

He went to his computer and changed the title from Love in the Suburbs to Murder in the Suburbs. But nothing came to mind.

In desperation he typed into a search engine what should I write about? The answer immediately came back as a quote from a writer named Marcus Zusak, Write what you know about.

‘Fuck, that’s not very helpful’ he thought, ‘I don’t know about murder. I’ve never even known someone who was murdered or someone who committed a murder. Thank heavens for that’ was a comforting thought. ‘But I should be an expert on murder, having seen more than 100 episodes of Midsomer Murders at least twice each and witnessing nearly 400 poor souls dispatched in assorted and sometimes grizzly methods’. He left his desk and went to ask Romel “Do you know anyone who was murdered?”

Romel swallowed a large gulp of tea and asked “Www why....should I?”

“Not necessarily, just asking”

“No, I know nothing about it”

“About what?”

“Nothing, I just meant I know nothing about any murder. OK?”

“No need to be so defensive, I’m just doing research for my novel”

“Well use the internet or newspaper articles they should be full of murders”

“Good idea. Hey! That reminds me, remember when Justin’s father murdered that gardener?”

“One could hardly forget it, no matter how hard I try”

“Yeah, so perhaps I’m not so far removed from a real murder, after all”

“And then he hung himself in Long Bay prison”

“Or, did he?”

“Are you suggesting he was murdered?”

“Could be, stranger things have happened”

“Maybe you have got the imagination of a writer”

“Thanks. I’m thinking that if I start with the real story of... what was his name?”

“Brendan?”

“Yes, that’s him, but I’ll change the name and location. If I start with him murdering the young man in the toilet, that’s no mystery. But if his suicide was staged, then I’ve got a real whodunit. Wow that could be exciting”

“So where are you going to start?”

“I’ll get all the news reports about the murder of the young guy and suicide, then see where that takes me. And if I come to a dead end, no pun intended, I can make up the rest. That’s what real writers do”

“Ok Agatha, back to the keyboard and let me finish watching this movie”

“What is it?”

“When Harry met Sally”

“Does he kill her?”

***

Back at his computer, Edward found all the news articles he could, about the murder and suicide, then copied them into a file he called Research.

“Fuck!” he said out loud, then thought. ‘I can’t write this about my friends. Even if I change the names they’ll still recognise it. But...will they read it? Then what’s the point of writing if my friends don’t know and don’t read my work? Oh, the people on the website will read it, I hope, they won’t know who I’m writing about. Yes, I’ll do it’. Edward then opened his Murder in the Suburbs file and commenced writing.

It was mid-afternoon and Brandon had unblocked his last drain for the day and so decided to stop at Parramatta Westfield to buy some new work boots. As he locked his ute he felt the urge to urinate so he went to the toilet in the carpark. When he had completed the task and was washing his hands, a young man walked in and went into one of the cubicles. Looking in the mirror above the wash basin, Brandon recognised the man.

He left the toilet, but instead of heading for the shops he returned to his vehicle, found a large wrench and went back to the toilet. He went into the cubicle next to the man he had recognised before, put down the toilet lid, stood on it and looked over the partition briefly, to ensure he had the right cubicle. He then raised the wrench above his head and brought it down heavily...

“Edward, dinner’s ready”

“What the fuck!” Edward yelled

“I said dinner’s ready, what’s wrong with you?”

“You startled me. I was so in the moment my character was about to commit murder”

“He won’t be the only one, if you don’t get your arse to the table while the meal is still hot”

<>

“So how’s it going?” Romel asked during dinner.

“Early days yet. I’ve read up on everything I can find about the murder and written pretty much as it has been reported. I’ll continue to do that through the investigation, though I’ll have to create that part as there’s not much in the news reports about forensics, interviews and charging processes. I’ve seen enough TV police drama to know how that goes”

“So if we know who the murder is, what’s the mystery?”

“Well, the first half of the book will be the investigation and court case. Then I’ll jump to the suicide and the mystery will start there.”

“Sort of, was he or wasn’t he?” asked Romel
“Yeah, that’s it”

“So have you decided if it will be murder?”

“It has to be, but as yet I haven’t decided who will do it”

“So you’re about as much in the dark as your readers will be”

“Yeah, that’s the exciting part about writing, you never know where it’s going to take you”

“But you’ve only just started, how do you know that?”

“I read it in the notes you gave me, but it sounds pretty spot on to me”

“Even if you don’t know who kills him, have you decided on a motive yet?”

“Well it has to be someone who wants revenge for something he’s done. Maybe a family member of the man he killed”

“Or a disgruntled customer?”

“I don’t see how a plumber could upset a customer that much...unless...no, that wouldn’t work”

“What wouldn’t work?”

“Someone’s toilet, that he’s supposed to have fixed, blocks up and floods the house with... you know what”

“Probably not a good enough motive for murder. But don’t forget, he gets killed in prison and there are plenty of nasty bastards in there who’d slit your throat for very little reason”

“Good thinking 99”

“Who’s 99?”

“Doesn’t matter”

“Hey what if the first murderer does not plead guilty, then you’d have all the forensic investigation and stuff” Romel suggested.

“So, I’ll have two murderers, one the readers know about and one mystery”

“And then your story wouldn’t be so close to...well...our friend’s case”

“You’re brilliant, so I had better change the location of the first murder”

“Maybe make it all fictional places. Invent a city. You’re the writer, you can set it anywhere”

*****