Lady Justice and the Black Widow

by Robert Thornhill

  LADY JUSTICE

  AND THE

  BLACK WIDOW

  A WALT WILLIAMS

  MYSTERY/COMEDY NOVEL

  ROBERT THORNHILL

  Lady Justice and the Black Widow

  Copyright March, 2018 by Robert Thornhill

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any way, by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording or otherwise without prior permission of the author except as provided by USA copyright law.

  This novel is a work of fiction. Names, incidents and entities included in the story are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, events and entities is entirely coincidental.

  Published in the United States of America

  Fiction, Humorous

  Fiction, Mystery & Detective, General

  LADY JUSTICE

  AND THE

  BLACK WIDOW

  CHAPTER 1

  Jan Morrison felt the anger, frustration, and indignation building as she watched the evening news.

  State Senator Morton Benjamin had been accused by an intern of sexual harassment. The allegations were made by twenty-two-year-old Cheryl Stokes who had worked with the senator for more than a year. According to Stokes, the senator had made suggestive remarks and touched her inappropriately several times, but it was during the heat of a campaign, so she brushed it off as a reaction to the stress.

  The incident that had sparked the accusation had occurred when she was asked to stay late to help the senator draft a piece of legislation. Allegedly, the senator asked Stokes to perform sexual acts. When she refused, she was threatened with dismissal.

  The news cast showed a clip of the senator, surrounded by his entourage, leaving the capitol building. “Senator Benjamin categorically denies the allegations, saying they are nothing but a ploy by Stokes to generate publicity for herself. At the urging of women’s right groups, the attorney general has agreed to launch an investigation.”

  Jan flicked off the TV and shook her head in disgust.

  The scenario was all too familiar.

  She had been in Cheryl Stokes’ shoes and her heart ached knowing what was ahead for the young woman.

  Her humiliation had come eight years ago at the hands of Professor Frederick Lawton. She was a journalism major at the university and was doing well in all her classes except philosophy. She was barely passing and feared a low mark would jeopardize her scholarship. She approached the professor and asked if he could assign extra work to bring up her grade. He readily agreed and asked her to come by his office after hours.

  When she arrived, she discovered that in order to receive a passing grade she would have to submit to his advances.

  She fled in tears and reported the incident to the university the next day.

  What ensued, she could only describe as a nightmare.

  It was her word against that of a tenured and published professor. Lawton turned the tables, claiming she was failing his class and had offered him sexual favors to receive a passing grade.

  It was no contest.

  Humiliated and disgraced, she dropped out of school.

  Jan had no doubt that Senator Benjamin, the chairman of the senate finance committee, would prevail.

  It was encouraging that since the #Me Too movement was launched in October of 2017, and popularized by actress Alyssa Milano, several Hollywood types and a few congressmen had been forced to acknowledge their pandering ways, but Jan suspected that these few were just the tip of the iceberg.

  The ‘good old boy’ and ‘boys will be boys’ mentality was firmly woven into the fabric of American society, from the CEO of the local company to the White House itself.

  Jan knew of at least ten past presidents who were known to have a little something on the side.

  It was no secret that John Kennedy, one of the most beloved presidents of the modern era, had a steamy affair with Marilyn Monroe.

  Not to be outdone, his successor, Lyndon Johnson, once bragged that he’d “had more women by accident than Kennedy ever had on purpose.” It is even rumored that after his wife, Lady Bird, walked in on her husband having sex with one of his secretaries in the Oval Office, the Secret Service installed a buzzer system to alert the President whenever his wife was nearby.

  Then, of course, there was the much-publicized Bill Clinton, Monica Lewinsky, debacle.

  While not as flamboyant as the Democrats, Republican presidents were not immune to extramarital dalliances. Both Dwight Eisenhower and George H. W. Bush were known to have had White House romances.

  Equally distressing was the fact that more than a dozen women had accused the current president of sexual misconduct.

  Hoping to quell her bitter feelings, Jan turned on the TV and began flipping through the channels.

  She never knew whether it was an accident or fate that led her to tune into the Animal Planet which was airing a piece on arachnids.

  She sat, fascinated, watching the story of the black widow spider unfold. Her interest peaked when she learned that this particular species practiced sexual cannibalism, a behavior in which the female eats the male after mating.

  Jan was not unfamiliar with the term ‘black widow’ as it applied to her own species. When the program was over, curiosity got the best of her. She booted up her computer and Googled ‘black widow women.’

  She learned that the term was used to describe female serial killers. While the number of male serial killers far outweighed their feminine counterparts, the descriptions of the women in the accompanying articles were fascinating.

  She read about Aileen Wournos who was the first woman to fit the FBI’s definition of a serial killer. In 1989 and 1990, Wournos killed seven men in Florida. She was eventually captured, spent ten years on death row, and was executed in 2002. Charlize Theron won an Oscar portraying Wournos in the 2003 movie, Monster.

  Then there was Amy Archer-Gilligan. Between 1911 and 1916, she was suspected of killing 48 people under her care at a nursing home. Her dark history was the inspiration for the Frank Capra movie, Arsenic and Old Lace.

  Although she in no way identified with these women or any of the dozens of others in the articles, she remained intrigued with the notion of the black widow.

  Then her thoughts shifted back to the news story and the video footage of the pompous Senator Benjamin followed by his circle of lackeys. In her mind, it was only a matter of time until he would be forcing his attentions on another poor intern.

  She was equally certain that since she had left the university more than one co-ed had qualified for a passing grade at one of Professor Lawton’s after-hours sessions.

  If she had learned one thing in life, it was that people don’t change. A leopard doesn’t change his spots, and a philandering male will continue with his womanizing ways.

  Life wasn’t fair. There seemed to be no justice.

  Justice!

  Jan thought about the lady clad in a flowing white robe holding the scales. How ironic that her eyes were covered. It seemed that through the centuries, justice had turned a blind eye to the plight of women.

  As she mulled this over in her mind, it occurred to her that if Lady Justice couldn’t get the job done, maybe The Black Widow could!

  CHAPTER 2

  Jan continued reading throughout the evening, wondering all the while if she was really considering the possibility of becoming the next black widow.

  As she read the accounts of the female serial killers, she noted that a few bludgeoned their victims, a few used either a knife or a gun, but most used some type of poison.

  To her, tha
t seemed to be the best method of vanquishing her prey. A hammer or a knife were just too messy and a gun was too noisy. Besides, it only seemed fitting that like the spider, a black widow woman would use poison.

  Sleep didn’t come easy that night. She tossed and turned, vivid scenes playing in her mind like a grisly sci-fi video. She finally drifted off, wondering --- should she do it --- could she do it?

  The next morning, the whole thing seemed like a bad dream.

  What was I thinking? I’m not a cold-blooded killer!

  After toasting a muffin and pouring her first cup of coffee, she turned on the TV to catch the morning news.

  A woman was reporting from the university campus. “A female student has accused Brad Childress, the quarterback of the university football team, of drugging and raping her in his dorm room. While Childress admits there was sexual activity, he claims it was consensual. University officials say an investigation is underway.”

  There it was again.

  Jan knew how the investigation would end. The most important thing on a university campus is fielding a winning team, and you can’t do that without your starting quarterback. There were no witnesses, so it was another ‘he said – she said.’ Besides, what girl wouldn’t want to get laid by the ruggedly handsome football hero?

  The anger and frustration she felt the night before came flooding back.

  Another man in a position of power, another assault, and another female victim who needed someone to fight for her.

  Someone like The Black Widow!

  Jan looked at the clock. Time was slipping away. She mustn’t be late for work.

  After dropping out of school, she had enough journalism credits to land a job as a reporter at the Kansas City Star. It was an entry level position, and while she longed to cover the exciting stories on the crime beat, she had to start at the bottom. Most of her assignments were cream puff stuff like ribbon-cutting ceremonies and animal rescues.

  Her editor was a stickler for punctuality and if you were late for the morning briefing, you’d be lucky to get any assignment at all.

  She rushed through her shower, pulled her hair back into a pony-tail, hurriedly dressed, and headed for her car.

  She slipped into the conference room seconds before Chris Carnes, her editor, closed the door.

  “How nice of you to join us this morning, Miss Morrison,” he said, sarcastically.

  Jan looked at her watch. “Hey, I’m actually here a minute early.”

  Carnes enjoyed giving her a hard time and she enjoyed giving it right back.

  The editor surveyed the room. “It was a busy night. Lot of stuff going on, drive-by shooting, several burglaries, a pile-up on I-70, and that unfortunate business at the university. We’ll be spread pretty thin.”

  Carnes began doling out the assignments. Finally, only Jan and one other reporter were in the room.

  “The mayor is having a thousand bucks a plate dinner tonight at the Hilton President Hotel. It’s a fund raiser for his re-election bid. Lots of high-rollers, local celebrities, and sports figures will be there. Senator Morton Benjamin will be giving the opening remarks. Cindy, I’d like you to cover it. Get interviews with as many of the guests as possible. You won’t have any trouble getting to the mayor. He’ll be dying to get his mug on the front page of tomorrow’s edition. Jan, there’s a dog show at Bartle Hall. Get an interview with the winner. We’ll use it as filler if we need it. That’s all.”

  Jan was almost out the door when she heard Carnes remark, “What? No grousing about your assignment?”

  “Not today,” she replied. “I love dogs.”

  When she first heard Carnes mention Benjamin’s name, she held her breath hoping she’d get the nod, but after thinking it over, she was glad she didn’t. Having to cover the story would put her at the scene, and if she was to carry out her plan, she didn’t want anyone thinking she was anywhere close to the hotel.

  She was actually happy to have the puff piece. It would take an hour at the most, and there was a lot to do before the mayor’s fund raiser.

  Tossing and turning in bed the night before, Jan had given a lot of thought as to how she would pull this off. She concluded that in order to administer a lethal dose of poison, her victim would have to be incapacitated. At five feet, six inches, and a hundred and twenty-five pounds, she wasn’t exactly an imposing figure. She decided a taser would do the trick. It was powerful, silent, and she could drop her target from across the room.

  Best of all, she knew where she could get one on short notice --- Benny’s Pawn Shop on Independence Avenue. Driving by one day, she had seen a sign in his window advertising tasers and stun guns.

  After pulling to the curb a block from the pawn shop, she tucked her hair under a baseball cap. Not exactly a fool proof disguise, but it was all she could come up with on short notice.

  A bell tinkled as she entered the shop.

  “Be there in a minute,” came a voice from a back room.

  A moment later, a short, balding Italian guy who was the spitting image of Danny DeVito emerged.

  “How can I help you?”

  “I saw your sign in the window. I’m looking for a taser.”

  “Don’t blame you,” Benny replied. “Lots of crazies out there. A girl can’t be too careful.”

  He looked her over. “I got just what you need,” he said, reaching into a showcase. “This is the Taser M26c. This baby discharges 50,000 volts. It has the stopping power of a 357 Magnum. You can drop a guy fifteen feet away. Ain’t she a beauty?”

  “That sounds exactly like what I’m looking for. How much is it?”

  “This baby retails for six hundred, but I’ll let you have it for four.”

  “Four hundred?” Jan had no idea one would cost that much. “I --- I don’t have that kind of cash on me.”

  “Not a problem. I take credit cards.”

  Can’t do it, Jan thought. I can’t leave a paper trail.

  “Uhhh, I don’t use credit cards. I’ll go to my bank, get the cash, and come back later.”

  Jan had selected potassium chloride as her poison of choice. She read online that it dissolves readily in water and is used to cause cardiac arrest as the third drug in the ‘three drug cocktail’ for executions by lethal injection. The other plus was that a forty-pound bag could be purchased at Ace Hardware for twenty-six bucks.

  She stopped by an ATM and pulled $500 from her account. After a stop at Ace Hardware for the potassium chloride and a stop at Walgreens Pharmacy for latex gloves, she headed back to Benny’s Pawn for the taser.

  With the syringes she already had at home from a round of HCG injections for weight loss, she was ready to go.

  It only took an hour to get an interview with the winner of the dog show competition. By six o’clock, she was ready to head to the Hilton President Hotel for the debut of The Black Widow.

  Knowing the place would be crawling with women dressed to the nines, she donned her best party dress so she would blend in with the other well-dressed women.

  Once in the lobby, she called the front desk. “This is Marsha Wells, Senator Benjamin’s personal assistant. The senator asked me to order a bottle of your finest champagne sent to his suite. Can you handle that for me?”

  “Absolutely, Miss Wells. Right away!”

  Jan watched and waited. Moments later, a room service employee emerged pushing a cart complete with ice bucket, champagne, and glasses. She slipped into the elevator just as the door was closing.

  She followed the bus boy to the senator’s room. He opened the door with a pass card and pushed the cart inside. Just before the door closed, she slipped a piece of duct tape across the door latch, then moved on down the hall.

  As soon as the bus boy disappeared into the elevator, she entered the senator’s room, removed the tape from the door, and dialed the front desk.

  “I wonder if you could get a message to Senator Benjamin before he sits down to dinner?”

  “Certainly. I’d be
happy to.”

  “Just tell him that there is a nice surprise waiting for him in his room.”

  Nervously, she paced the floor. She could still get out before he arrived. She knew she should, but the vision of her professor’s leering eyes strengthened her resolve.

  Moments later, she heard the senator outside the door.

  She sat on the edge of the bed, hiked her skirt above her knees, and posed seductively.

  The senator’s first reaction was surprise. Then, when he spotted the champagne and the attractive woman on his bed, his face broke into a smile.

  “My, my, this is indeed a nice surprise. Let me guess. Did Mort from Putnam Pharmaceuticals set this up, or was it Greg from Monsanto? I need to know so I can express my appreciation.”

  Jan smiled. “Sorry Senator, it wasn’t Mort or Greg. I’m here courtesy of Cheryl Stokes.”

  She saw the confused look on his face. “What? Who the hell is Cheryl Stokes?” Then it dawned on him. “Stokes! The bitch who’s been giving me a hard time in the press. I don’t understand.”

  “You will very soon,” Jan replied, pulling the taser from her purse. “Your philandering days are over.”

  The senator put up his hands. “Wait! No!”

  Before he could cry out, Jan pulled the trigger. Two thin wires flew across the room and embedded themselves in the senator’s chest. He stiffened, then fell to the floor quivering. A moment later, he was still.

  Jan pulled the syringe from her purse, rolled up the senator’s sleeve, and injected the deadly potassium chloride.

  In less than five minutes there was no pulse.

  Jan breathed a sigh of relief.

  Her plan had worked and it was unbelievably easy. Now, all she had to do was remove anything that could tie her to the scene. She had worn latex gloves, so there would be no finger prints. She removed the taser wires, put the taser and syringe in her purse, and looked around the room.