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Burglars "Just don't blame me if you scald yourself and no funny business or - put it this way - you'll be gutted!" He stabbed the knife into the table top and laughed callously. It was a long drawn out snigger. The chair creaked under his heavy body. The situation had stabilised, he was in control and was looking forward to the cashed cheque. "Is your tea all right?" queried Alice after a few minutes of slurping silence. "Just the way I like it, stewed!" "Did you also learn that at the same place as your friend?" "Maybe I did and maybe I didn't." Caution had entered his voice - a cunning that grew from long experience of living with ulterior motives and deceit. "If you kill me, you will probably die too," said Alice levelly. He sneered - but there was a tension in his voice. She could feel him leaning forward. Ice flowed like torrents in her veins - the most important thing in her life - ever - was how she spoke her next words. She didn't have to. There was the sound of his chair being pushed back, the thump of his feet towards the downstairs cloakroom and then the sound of him being immediately and violently sick. "What the hell did you put in that tea," he snarled as he re-entered the kitchen moments later. "The whole of the contents of my neighbours prescription," smiled Alice sweetly. She had taken off the tape and was observing him minutely and contemptuously, like a specimen. Then her expression changed and her blue eyes glinted savagely. "I haven't the faintest idea what's in it but it but I believe that it thins her blood - or something. You're probably a lot better with it out of your system or it would be thinning your blood now as it does to many other rats in similar doses." "You're completely out of your mind - if you think I'm going to let you get off Scot free doing that to me. " He was a thick set man in his early thirties with black stringy hair, a dark patterned jumper and scruffy baggy jeans. He advanced menacingly. "I'm going to teach you a lesson!" "On the contrary," said Alice coolly, "it is I who am going to teach you!" He stopped in his tracks. The gun, grey squat and chunky in her small hand was pointing unwaveringly at his groin. Move a step further and I will blow your brains out - you do keep your brains down there don't you." His moustache bristled on his upper lip and the rest of his face paled. "I should also add that I am the President of the local Women's Hand Gun Club - and I was a regional finalist last year." "Different to shoot a target than a person," he levelled at her cautiously, through gritted teeth. The plate on the wall by his head disintegrated. "Not if you're really angry and do not give a single fig for the person you're pointing the gun at." Replied Alice. "Do you know, I really hated breaking that plate. It was my favourite. I loved it just as I love this house and just as much as I loathe you. So do me a favour and try your luck." The gun had returned to point to his groin and he was now standing very, very still. "Or," she was standing now, her one hand going through her shopping bag, "you can put these on. The handcuffs clanked on the kitchen table. "Now!" Her voice was glacial and with no remorse. "Do it!" ---------------------------- It was now early evening and for Alice it had been a busy day. She was feeling more relaxed now and back on an even keel. The late afternoon shower had helped and, pampered and sweet smelling, she was looking forward to the return of his Highness, Mr Condescending. Tea would be ready on time as always. She gazed at herself in the full length mirror. Gone now the slimline skirt and the blouse. The new dress hung in soft creamy alluring folds, clinging to her slight body in all the right places. If she stood against the light, she knew her underclothes would be visible, skimpy as they were. Her anger against the burglars was over. Which meant she could get on with being cross with her husband again and his remarks at the beginning of the day about 'risqué' and his young secretary. It was convenient her plans for the evening had also provided such a good solution for the burglars. When the police had come to take them away and had replaced Alice's handcuffs for official ones, the Sergeant had looked at her suspiciously. Alice had given him her most demure of smiles. "The trouble is, madam," had said the Sergeant, "with good behaviour, they'll be out again in a month, if they go in at all. It's not much of a punishment for the distress to you." Alice smiled again even more sweetly as the memory of the red haired woman's tear stained face and the man's extremely red one as they were taken away. The thought drifted satisfyingly to the back of her mind. She reached up to the back of the bedroom door where the bag from the new local shop was hanging. In the bag lay the handcuffs. They would need cleaning and sterilising since she was expecting to be using them again later. Mr Condescending indeed. The same sterilisation would be needed for the other article she had bought from the same shop and which had been the cause of the burglars tears and very red face. It too was hung behind the bedroom door by its curved handle in readiness. A very thin, supple, willow wood cane. "Such a very neat and tidy solution," thought Alice, happily. The End |
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In Holiday to Murder Alice decides to spend some time away from her husband in the remote and forbidding house where her old school friend has just been murdered. As she delves deeper into the secrets of this small village comunity, danger lurks in every leafy byway ... as well as insistent suiters ... More Romances, thrill and mysteries ... |