Malice Masterpieces

by K'Anne Meinel

  The expert who had installed this safe she had found dead here after a delightful weekend spent in the wine country up in Central California with ‘friends’ or rather a delicious and delightful redhead. She had known that the lure of why she needed a high tech secured safe such as this would bring the thief back someday and her little surprise additions had proven useful. The beams that would have set off an alarm had been child’s play to the thief but the claw and the rat trap amused Alice at their efficiency. The thief had bled out from the claw, the harder she pulled, the tighter it gripped the vein in her wrist and the rat trap had to have added to her agony when it broke her fingers. The money that had been in the safe was rendered useless by the amount of blood that had dripped on it. The entire safe casing had to be replaced but Alice had been able to do that herself. She had rinsed the previous casing but made sure it was recycled in a fiery furnace before she breathed a sigh of relief over minute traces of blood. She had also had to replace the carpeting in this room. Her thief had bled on it as well and nothing could get out those stains. An off duty carpet installer had gladly shown her how to stretch the new swatch of carpet in her office, never noticing the wood flooring square that hid her safe. He had been more interested in the possibility of dating the little voluptuous blonde and while she had enjoyed his company she hadn’t been interested in sex with the boy. She dated him a little while, having fun with him, but the romantic chemistry wasn’t there or so she led him to believe. It had been easy to get rid of her admirer; it had been harder to get rid of the body of her safe cracker. Fortunately the old carpet came up with the padding easily and rolling her in it had allowed Alice to drag her down the steps and out the patio door to her dock where her boat lay. Having to do it on a dark and awfully rainy night had been miserable but Alice figured the rain washed away any signs of the drag to the dock, and perhaps any minute traces of the woman’s DNA. A midnight ride in a choppy ocean was not her idea of fun but she drifted enough that she could honestly say she was caught in the storm. Weighting down the body and the carpeting had cost her another anchor and chain. The whole experience had been distasteful to the petite blonde but then she had taken care of business matter of factly, the thief had gotten what they deserved, a bit more possibly than they deserved, but business was business and Alice’s business was private.

  Scrubbing down the room with bleach and another chemical not readily available on the market but obtained from her admirer at the lab she breathed a sigh of relief that any investigation would not show traces of her thief having been there. Any DNA elsewhere could be explained from when she installed the safe. Alice really didn’t worry; there was nothing to tie her to this or that body. There was no reason for anyone to investigate her. Her boat was washed down from the storm and while she had a hell of a time bringing it back to the harbor, she felt no one could have seen the blacked out boat leave in the first place in the storm. No one had ever inquired.

  Alice packed a bag with enough clothes for a few days. She looked around her bedroom one more time to be sure everything was in order and stopped in the bathroom to pack a few things before leaving that room in order as well. She loaded her laptop into a shoulder briefcase and it’s accessories including the thumb pad, the charger, and her roller track ball which she found more comfortable than the pad on the actual laptop. Packed discretely into the lining of her briefcase was the flattened bag containing the bonds, the extra passport, and the checks. To a screener it would look just like paperwork which was to be expected in a briefcase.

  She placed it all by the hallway and checked the patio doors to be sure they were locked taking the added precaution of a hunk of wood in the track and screw locks at the base of each of the doors to keep anyone from just randomly opening the doors and unless they broke the glass they couldn’t get in. She glanced out at her covered boat floating at the dock and nodded to herself as she closed the drapes. Security in this gated community was adequate to her needs but Alice always took the extra measure as she armed the pad and went out her front door. She drove herself to the airport in her Porsche, barely hesitating at the gate as the admiring gatekeeper watched her drive down the road in the expensive car. For someone to live in this community they had to have a lot of money and while he knew she was in investments he wondered what kind would afford such luxury. Alice never gave him another thought as she drove first to the P.O. Box she kept in a Postal Annex franchise. She knew the results wouldn’t be there yet but she gathered her mail that was now there as other mail would build up for the few days she was planning to be gone. She glanced at it and threw the junk mail in a recycling bin by the photocopier before taking the rest out with her and stuffing it in her briefcase, further making the hidden bag look normal with the addition of the envelopes.

  Driving to LAX or Los Angeles International Airport was always an adventure. It could be two o’clock in the morning and there would be a traffic jam. It was constantly a challenge and she effortlessly drove the powerful Porsche in the traffic. It didn’t take long as she knew what freeways to avoid and what city streets would get her where she needed to go. ‘God I love this city,’ she thought as she avoided an idiot driver from colliding with her car. It would of course have been the other driver’s fault, never hers.

  Parking in the long term parking lot she set the alarm on her Porsche. She had been lucky in the year she had owned this particular car, no break in’s but it might happen at any time and she was kind of resigned to it. She kept nothing of value inside the expensive car, just her registration in the glove compartment. Just the fact that it was a Porsche would tempt a thief and while she had a Harmon Kardin radio and sound system, the car itself would be the draw. She shrugged; she was insured for this sort of thing. She walked confidently to the overpass that would take her over the roadway to the terminal and an elevator down to the check in. In the elevator she was accompanied by several people and one set off her internal alarms. He looked at her a little too intently, a little too long, and Alice played the dumb blonde to the hilt as though she wasn’t aware of his interest. She wasn’t sure his interest wasn’t romantic or at least lustful, she engendered this reaction in men and women but she also couldn’t be sure it wasn’t more and was careful about what she did.

  Walking to get in line she saw him take up a location in the line further back. She waited her turn and presented her reservation number and frequent flier miles card. Her bag was weighed and sent on its way and she soon had her ticket. Her flight was in forty-five minutes and she decided to go through security. If the man was an admirer he would have no business going to her terminal unless he was flying on the same airlines, if he was a cop he would show up anyway. She wasn’t going to worry about it. If she flinched at every admirer or person who had followed her over the years she would have gone crazy. She only allowed her OCD to come out in the security and privacy of her home where she could afford to be a little paranoid, to relax, to be herself.

  Security posed no problem since she had done her homework and her papers were in chaotic disorder as befitted a briefcase. Her laptop was of course examined; it’s accessories still in the briefcase. Nothing red flagged the examiners and she was soon striding down the concourse to her flight. She had time for a quick meal but preferred to use the bar for a small light drink, a Shirley Temple, she rarely drank alcohol, refusing to allow her inhibitions or guard down too often. Besides, she was about to board a five hour flight, it would be foolish to allow herself to get ill for that length of time.

  She watched unobtrusively for the man who had set off her alarms earlier but saw no sign of him. It might mean several things. One that he was just admiring the petite blonde, two that he was really good at concealing himself, or many more things that her active imagination could conjure up. She didn’t allow herself that indulgence but she kept it firmly in a file in the back of her brain. It paid to be attentive at all times and while she had been careful over the years she didn’t ever dismiss such small incidents. She w
as still sitting in the bar when her flight was announced. She strolled non-challantly towards the gate with her briefcase strap over her shoulder looking like a seasoned traveler. They checked her boarding ticket and she was let into first class with no problem.

  “Can we get you anything before we take off?” a steward immediately asked the first class passenger.

  Alice nodded, and while she had just had one she ordered a Shirley Temple. She liked having the fruity concoction on hand. A lot of the time it was just for appearances and prevented people from encouraging her to drink more or to buy her a drink. They often didn’t realize it wasn’t alcoholic by its appearance and this suited Alice. She sipped on it absentmindedly as she thought about what she would do once she arrived in South Carolina. The plane ride was long and boring. Someone of Alice’s active nature found it a trial but she passed the time by dozing, not really sleeping, she wouldn’t in so public a place, besides it left her vulnerable. She was just in time to catch someone from trying to ‘move’ her briefcase from under the seat where she had placed it and the shoulder strap around her ankle had woken her.

  “What are you doing?” she asked the woman who was surreptitiously moving the bag.

  “Oh ah, I um was moving it over, I didn’t realize you’d wrapped the strap around your foot,” she gestured to the other bag she had in her hand amazingly similar to Alice’s own case as though she needed to move Alice’s over to make room for it. Alice realized instantly it was a cheap imitation of her own expensive Gucci bag.

  “I don’t think so,” Alice said to the woman who she now recognized as her seat mate who had sat down late next to her before they took off. She didn’t know if the woman’s story was legitimate and to give her the benefit of the doubt the other storage space was taken up by another bag, but Alice wasn’t given to taking chances.

  “I’m sorry I woke you,” the woman apologized.

  Alice accepted the apology and then sat up as dinner was served. She thought about the man she had seen earlier and the actions of her seatmate. She knew to a degree she was paranoid but it seemed entirely beyond coincidental that two things should set off her radar today. It put her a little on edge as she ignored all attempts by her seatmate to engage her in conversation as she looked out the window and ate her dinner, the woman finally got the hint when all her questions were answered with one word answers. Dinner was excellent but that was one of the many reasons she chose first class, the meals, the extra space, the courtesies were all better up here. She had flown business class many times in the past and hated the cramped space, the rude passengers, and the service. She much preferred being catered to on trips. She had to admit though this time she felt closed in on and was relieved when the captain announced their gradual descent.

  Alice retrieved her bag and hailed a taxi outside the terminal. She had looked for her earlier admirer and saw no sign of him but that didn’t actually mean anything so she remained alert. Her seatmate she saw had only one bag checked and this one could have been a carry on. In a time when most travelers carried as much of their baggage as the airline would allow this was curious that she hadn’t. Alice shook herself, she really needed this vacation, she was seeing things in everyone.

  She gave the address of the dockside terminal and the taxi sped off. She looked around interested as they sped through town towards the ocean. Just this morning she had woken to June glooms in California and now she was in South Carolina at a different coast, a different ocean, a different time and place. Her looks around weren’t just the normal tourist gawk though as it appeared, she was looking to see if they were followed, she was pleased to see she wasn’t right in this instance. Her alarms though had gone off twice today and it paid to stay alert. She paid the taxi, giving him a generous tip because she knew he would go back to the city empty. She carried her luggage and shoulder briefcase to the waiting plane that was floating at the dock.

  “Ms. Weaver?” asked the black man with a decided Jamaican accent.

  She smiled charmingly and nodded as she allowed him to take her travel bag, keeping her briefcase for herself as she climbed into the amphibious plane. She watched as he stowed it in the back seat behind her own.

  “We have one other passenger,” he told her and her earlier alarms made her a little nervous as they waited.

  “How was the flight over here?” she asked to make conversation. She was always pleasant to her drivers, people who did service for her; it was a good habit and created good will wherever she went. You never knew what information you could glean from them and they certainly appreciated the tips.

  “Ah, it was a little buckey coming into the winds, they had a storm yesterday and I see it is still causing a little bounce but it should be in our favor going back,” he explained. She assumed the ‘buckey’ meant turbulence and hoped they wouldn’t encounter it going back in the small plane. “You’ve been to the islands before?” he asked friendly.

  She smiled and nodded. “Yes, it’s a beautiful place, I enjoy the visit.”

  “I think I’ve flown you before,” he said as he smiled his bright white teeth gleaming against his dark skin. He was a handsome man.

  Alice looked closer and recognized him from previous trips down here. “Yes, I think you have,” she agreed. She must have made a favorable impression.

  He glanced at his watch. “Well, he must have missed his flight,” he said as he sighed and got out of the plane to throw off the ropes that tied it to the dock. He gathered them effortlessly and got into the rocking plane. Alice could admire his casual skill, it was so easy to be thrown off balance by the waves and he handled it with the grace of a dancer. “Well, we will be on our way,” he stated unnecessarily as he handed Alice a set of earphones to clamp over her head. He put on a set himself and started his checklist.

  Alice was relieved that the other passenger had not shown up, preferring having the plane to herself and the pilot and not having to engage in unnecessary conversation and then wondered why they hadn’t made the plane. It took real effort to make plans to catch this plane, they had to have wanted to go to the islands and she wondered what could have caused them to miss it. She let her paranoia wander for only a moment as she thought up possible reasons and then dismissed them. From bombs on this plane to delays of other flights, there could be hundreds of reasons why the man had missed this connecting flight. He could hire a boat to take him to the islands or wait for a flight in the morning.

  The flight took forty-five minutes and the sun was setting as they flew into the bay that marked the main island of the Cayman’s. They were soon tied up at a dock and the pilot sprang out to hand Alice off to another man as they both steadied her. Between the bobbing of the plane and the dock it was a balancing act and the man respectively took her arm as he carried her luggage to a waiting taxi. Before she left Alice had thanked her pilot for the excellent flight, they had talked about deep sea fishing, and while Alice didn’t know a lot she had gone once, studied it and could talk knowledgeably about it. His enthusiasm for the past time was infectious and she thought she might try it again. She gripped his hand, surreptitiously handing off a fifty in American to his delight.

  An officer was waiting at the end of the dock to check and stamp her passport. She knew this was only for forms sake, many people came and went on these islands without being checked but she wanted this stamp this time. The taxi whizzed her across town to the Hilton and she was soon checked into one of her favorite suites. Looking out over the ocean from her hotel balcony she thought about her paranoia today and wondered if it had been justified at all. She shrugged it off. Ordering room service for her first night she didn’t want to draw attention to herself, especially as going out would make her have to take her briefcase with her, there was no way she would leave that amount of money lying around for a maid or someone else to riffle through. She knew a lot of the tricks as she had done them herself, from paying off a maid, to becoming one herself. There were a million ways to get into someone’s roo
ms and rifle through their belongings, all without them having a clue. She knew until she had gone to the bank in the morning she wouldn’t feel relaxed though, she needed to get rid of these bonds and checks.

  Alice slept well, but then the islands always soothed her. Whether it was the Cayman Islands, Hawaii, or Fiji, she always slept well on islands. She thought she should feel trapped on these small pieces of land dotted around the Earth but instead their cool tropical breezes enthralled her, made her feel invigorated, and once her business was concluded, would relax her. She called for breakfast and ate a hearty meal of an omelet with bell peppers and ham, a delicious concoction lightly spiced with something she only found here in the Caymans, a Jamaican influence she often thought. After a refreshing bath she dressed in shorts and a thin red spaghetti strapped blouse that allowed her large breasts to be held in by the built in shelf bra. She covered this enticing blouse with a white button down shirt and buttoned only the bottom three buttons. The red of her undershirt would show through attractively and she looked enough like a tourist that anyone who saw her would not discern the seriousness of her business.

  She checked her on line accounts as was her normal morning habit but the market wasn’t open yet in New York with the time difference and it didn’t matter anyway, she was on vacation, sorta. She was well protected money-wise and nothing short of a catastrophe in the stock market or a government collapse could affect some of her funds. Closing up her laptop she slipped it into her case.

  She decided to walk to the banking district. Run by the Swiss government it was the closest access to her Swiss accounts from the United States that Alice could personally access. Some of her transactions required her personal touch and she enjoyed traveling to the Caymans for personal as well as business get aways. It was a beautiful spot to transact anything she thought as she walked along. Her alarms had quieted after a good night’s sleep but she still was aware of her surroundings and those people around her. She made her way to a tall building, at least tall for this tropical island, an unobtrusive building, nothing special about it. Few people would know that it handled billions of dollars in transactions around the world daily. Alice had been a depositor for years. She went through their security, an arduous but necessary task; something the airline could learn a thing or two about as they scanned her for weapons, bombs, or any threat to their security. This bank would never be threatened; most of their money was in the form of electronics or rather electronic transfers.