Murder Doesn't Figure. Fred Yorg
room. If the clock was to be believed it was exactly 11:45 a.m. The time seemed about right, so I concluded that the old clock was running right on time, which was a hell of a lot more than I could say about myself. Here it was, midday and the only positive accomplishments I could point to were feeding the cat and dropping the Sunday papers off to the Emmon’s sisters. It’s not like there weren’t plenty of chores for me to do. After all, no housework of any kind had been done, since my wife, Kathy, left for the Poconos. Although it was hard for me to believe, that was actually ten days ago. A hell of a lot had happened since then. Once Kathy got home and heard my story, I hoped she’d cut me some slack.
Perhaps, the smart move would have been to try to make a last minute attempt to give the house a quick cleaning before she came home, but quite honestly it was just overwhelming. Where to begin, that was the question? As I pondered my next move, I glanced over at the cat, and found him sleeping on the couch. He was all curled up in a tight ball without a worry in the world. Now, the old lion had the right idea. It was such a good idea that I felt compelled to put the housecleaning debate on hold and join him. The last ten days had been tough on the both of us and we deserved a little shut-eye. I snuggled in next to Tuxedo and quickly joined him for a catnap.
It seemed like I had just closed my eyes when the door burst open. The cat and I both jumped up, at the ready. It was my wife. Her arms were full of luggage and she didn’t appear to be in a cheerful mood. I found that to be rather odd, for someone who was returning from a ten day vacation. I’m sure she had her reasons, and from the look in her eyes I was equally sure I was going to hear all about it.
“Hello sweetheart, did you have a good time?” I asked in my most cheerful voice.
“NO, it was horrible.”
“What? When I spoke to Mary Jane, she told me you and the girls were having a great time.”
“We were. But all that changed last Monday, with the bad weather. Barbara has been whining and bitching about anything and everything for the last six days. It was horrible, a total disaster. Then on the ride home I got stuck in a two-hour traffic jam. Enough about me; how did you spend your time while I was away?”
Before I could respond, Kathy was already answering her own question. After being married to her for close to thirty years, I should have recognized from her tone that the last question was rhetorical.
“Obviously not doing any house cleaning. This place is a mess. What the hell have you been doing? Laying on the couch all day, with the cat.”
She continued droning on, in a shrill state of hysteria, for quite some time. The cat and I remained on the couch, sitting there together in quiet bewilderment. I knew from years of experience that it would be futile to interrupt her, while she was carrying on like this. I’d just have to wait until she either concluded her ranting or stopped to take a breath, whichever came first. Finally she stopped, now was my time to strike.
“Okay Kathy, you want to know what I’ve been doing?”
“Yeah, I would like to know.”
“Then be quiet and listen. The day after you left I got involved in a murder.”
“MURDER? What the hell are you talking about? Are you going to jail?”
“Of course I’m not going to jail.”
“What kind of trouble have you gotten into now?”
“Calm down and I’ll explain everything.”
“Is this going to be a long story?”
“Yeah, it’s long and involved.”
“Well, you’ve got my attention. I must say, you do keep it interesting. Let me get a glass of wine, then tell me the whole story from the beginning to the end. Don’t leave anything out.”
With that, Kathy went out to the kitchen for her glass of wine. “You want a glass of wine or a bourbon?”
“No thanks dear, I’m cutting back.”
She quickly returned, with glass in hand and sat down in the chair. “Okay, let’s hear your story, and I’m warning you right now, it better be good.”
CHAPTER TWO
The story started out innocently enough in the early hours of the morning on the Thursday before last. I was sleeping peacefully in bed, curled up in the fetal position, comfortably nestled under my silk down comforter. I was the picture of contentment, not bothering anyone, sleeping the sleep of the dead.
The sleep that I was enjoying was no ordinary one, but one that came equipped with a most enjoyable dream in 3D color. As I recollect, the dream took me back in time to a white sandy beach in the Virgin Islands. I was once again 30 years old and in great shape, only adding to the pleasure of the nocturnal event. It was great. A siesta in paradise that refreshed not only my body but, the mind and spirit as well.
Unfortunately, I have found that one’s time in paradise is fleeting and experience has taught me that it doesn’t last forever. This dream was now proving to be no exception as it was quickly turning into my worst reality by taking a right hand turn down nightmare alley. I felt my chest, grow heavy and my breathing strained. I’m not equipped to tell you how the mind works but my subconscious was giving me a wake up call. Could this be a heart attack, or was it just a dream that went bad? I really was in no position to debate the issue. Since this was not the way I had planned on going to meet my maker, my subconscious won out. It was definitely time for me get up. I summoned all of the strength that I could muster and somehow broke free from the clutches of the big sleep.
As my unfocussed eyes struggled to open, I gazed into a pair of beady eyes that would scare the bravest of men. The creatures dark satanic eyes were surrounded, by black hair and whiskers, it was sort of like having ‘Cousin It’ from the Addam’s Family on your chest. My response motivated by fear and panic was to shoot straight up in the air, my cat, Tuxedo, lurched awkwardly from the bed. This was a hell of a way to get up on a Thursday morning, or any morning for that matter.
I looked at the clock on the night stand, it was 5:30 a.m., an hour of the day that I was most unaccustomed to. Tuxedo now stood glaring at me in the middle of the room impatiently waiting for me to get up and start the day. These damn cats are a curious breed, they love the status quo, their own way, and their routine. They deplore any change or deviation from their normal schedule. The cat in his own way actually reminded me of myself, more than I cared to admit. How else could I explain putting up with him all these years. In all fairness to the cat, there was no reason to be upset with him, he was just being himself. Tuxedo always got up at this ungodly hour, I just wasn’t part of his routine nor did I have any great desire to become part of it. My wife, Kathy, was the family member assigned to this particular morning rite of passage. The cat, to his credit, had always preferred my wife to me, but then again who didn’t? The entire family, my own sister included had long since sided with Tuxedo against me.
Unfortunately for both Tuxedo and myself, Kathy had left the previous night with several of her girl friends for a long weekend at our get away house in the Poconos. The girl’s called this semi annual event Woman’s only Weekend’. I didn’t resent my wife taking this time off to be with her friends she deserved it. Right now I had only two regrets. The first being that Kathy wasn’t here to tend to the cat and the second was that Tuxedo couldn’t tell time.
As I slowly navigated my way out of bed, I put on my slippers and robe. The cat raced ahead and waited for me on the top step of the stairs. I could sense his disappointment and annoyance as I stopped off at the bathroom to wash my face and brush my teeth. I stretched out this morning ritual just to annoy him. I know it was childish of me but the subtle payback was not wasted on the cat. Eventually I joined him on the stairs and we made our way down the steps to the living room, through the dining room, and ultimately to the kitchen. I rolled back the sliding glass door and the cat darted out onto the back deck, ready to conquer the world. I knew from experience that the cat would now spend the next fifteen minutes patrolling the grounds hoping to find some poor helpless creature that he could torment.