The Homicide Magnet

by Matt Ferraz

  Take it easy, girl, Antoinette thought. You’re smarter than all of them combined. “So what?” she said, trying not to sound as furious as she was. “We’re not going to leave here for a while, are we?”

  As she said the words, Antoinette knew her plan was dead. She would need to think of another way to kill Richard, and it had to be quick. She couldn’t take the situation for much longer. But it was better not to do it at the resort. If there was something she had learned from all those crime novels, it was not to underestimate amateur detectives.

  Richard’s hand touched hers, taking her away from her thoughts. “We can stay here for as long as you want, my love,” he said.

  “I wanna go home!” she answered, even before he finished his sentence. He seemed almost scared, so she went on, in a sweeter tone, “Oh, darling, I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to ruin your holiday. But ever since they found that body on the beach, I’ve been having the most dreadful nightmares. I dream every day that I’m the one lying there on the sand. I’ve taken as much as I could, but now… Now I just want to go home.”

  Richard held her hand tighter. “Sugar buns, I had no idea,” he said. “How awful it must have been for you. I will never forgive myself for having been so blind. We can leave tomorrow morning.”

  Antoinette blew him a kiss and mouthed ‘thank you’. That always did the trick. She started to pack that night, wondering how she was going to finish him off once they got home. Now that her first plan had gone sour, she knew she needed to be careful not to rush the next one.

  Then a diabolical idea came to her. They would hold a party. Not a huge one, just their closest friends. A get-together in the gardens at the back of their mansion. Some drink, some music, some entertainment. Get Richard drunk, then ask him to tell everyone how great a jumper he was. He loved to brag about how he could have won a medal in the Olympics!

  Antoinette would then tease him, saying that he would never be able to jump their electric fence. You may be able to jump high, my dear, but not that high! After making sure he was drunk enough to insist he could, Antoinette would ask the butler to turn off the electricity, but would first make sure that the switch was inverted, so when Richard hit the fence, the electric current would be at its highest. It wouldn’t be enough to kill him by itself but, with his heart condition, Richard would be gone in a few minutes.

  It sounded far-fetched, but it could work. The widow would be devastated, of course. Why did I tease him? I should never have done that! Now he’s dead, and it’s all my fault. Antoinette licked her lips in delight. It wouldn’t even look like murder!

  After she had finished packing, she decided to go downstairs for a few more shots of vodka. Grandma Bertha was still in her thoughts – though not as much now that Antoinette was going to murder Richard miles away, somewhere the old bag would never visit. However, it would still be a pleasure to put her hands around that wrinkled neck and squeeze it until Grandma Bertha’s face turned purple.

  As she walked through the hotel lobby to the bar, she noticed small groups of people chatting animatedly. Some guests had fled after the body had been discovered on the beach, but there was still a decent number who refused to let that little detail ruin their holiday. Now, the lobby felt crowded. What were they talking about?

  Well, it’s not relevant to me, thought Antoinette as she walked into the bar and ordered a dry martini.

  “Have you heard?” asked the bartender as he served her. “They found out who did it.”

  Antoinette reached into her bag for her sunglasses and put them on. The bright light in the bar hurt her eyes. “Who did what?” she asked.

  “The murder on the beach,” explained the bartender. “The old lady found out who the killer was. Or who the killers were, to be more precise.”

  Antoinette held her martini still, her lips almost touching the edge of the glass. “What are you talking about? The old lady? You mean, Grandma Bertha?”

  The bartender nodded. “Yes! Can you believe that?”

  He started to explain who had committed those murders, but Antoinette wasn’t listening. She had underestimated Grandma Bertha. There was more to her than quirks and funny stories. Earlier, Antoinette had wondered if Grandma Bertha had predicted her intention to kill Richard. Now, she felt that she had.

  Antoinette finished her martini and ordered another one, asking the barman to tell her the story from the start. This time, she paid full attention, taking mental notes. Grandma Bertha was really a remarkable woman. Out of all the resorts around the world, what were the odds that Antoinette would plan her murder at the one that happened to have a detective as a guest? It was unbelievable.

  Two martinis later, Antoinette went back to her room, lit a cigarette and watched the ocean from the window. It seemed to be the only place in the resort where no one was talking about the murder. Hearing people discussing Grandma Bertha made Antoinette feel small and insignificant. A wish was growing inside her: to put an end to Grandma Bertha before she could get in her way.

  Easy there, girl, Antoinette told herself. That could ruin everything. You have to finish what you start before moving on to another one. Go back home, finish Richard and get your hands on what’s yours. As soon as you leave here, you’ll never see her again.

  The cigarette tasted great.

  4

  There were more men than women at the party, and none of them could keep their eyes off Antoinette. She was wearing a black dress. Her curly hair fell over her shoulders and her full lips were painted blood red. Some of the men knew her… intimately, and the others – even ones accompanied by their wives – wanted to know her in that way.

  But Antoinette wasn’t up for conversation. She had a lot on her mind – but nothing she could share with anyone. She had been holding a glass of rosé wine, without taking a single sip, and kept looking at the couch, where her husband sat talking to an unexpected guest.

  They had had a fight about it that morning. Grandma Bertha was staying in one of the many guest bedrooms that they rarely used. Richard had even allowed her to bring the dogs inside and sleep with her. Antoinette waited until the evening to argue. Richard had been with Grandma Bertha all day, and Antoinette didn’t want to fight in front of her.

  “What were you thinking when you invited that woman to our party?” she had yelled at him as they got ready to go down and greet their guests.

  “She wanted to see this part of the country, sugar buns!” William tried to justify himself. “I just thought we could give her a ride so she wouldn’t have to spend her money on a plane ticket.”

  “So now you’re giving free rides to anyone who asks?” she said, putting on her diamond earrings. “Why don’t you let her use the jet and visit Egypt? Hell, give her a trip around the world! I’m sure she’ll love that.”

  Richard didn’t meet his wife’s eyes. He wasn’t used to confronting her. “You wanted to have a party, and I thought it would be fun to have her around.”

  “Why would that be fun?” she yelled, throwing the diamond earrings back in the drawer and looking for her emerald ones. “Is she a clown?”

  “I thought she would entertain our friends with her stories,” said Richard. “She has plenty of them.”

  She didn’t buy that excuse. Richard had invited the old lady because he liked her for some reason. Why would anyone like a woman like that? She was old and ugly. “I want her out before the party starts,” said Antoinette. “Put her in a cab and send her to a hotel. Put her in the royal suite, if you must. I just don’t want that woman at my party, is that clear?”

  “I’m not going to do it,” said Richard.

  The emerald earrings fell to the carpet. Antoinette didn’t bother picking them up. “What?”

  He was looking at her now. “She’s my guest, Toni,” he said. “I’m not going to send her away.”

  “You know I hate it when you call me Toni,” she said, too surprised to argue with the rest of what he had said. It was the first time he h
ad disobeyed an order.

  “I like Grandma Bertha,” said Richard. “She’s kind, she’s nice, she’s a lot of fun to be around…”

  “Why don’t you marry her, then?” she said dryly.

  “… she loved my collection! I showed it to her this afternoon, and she paid attention to every detail!”

  Richard had a stamp collection he was very proud of. Antoinette didn’t mind how he wasted his time, as long as he didn’t try to show it to her. Sometimes Richard spent an entire evening examining each stamp with a magnifying glass, cataloguing them in huge books that filled a room in their mansion. Antoinette had planned to sell them after she killed her husband, but the mere thought of dealing with other stamp lovers gave her a headache, so she thought she might just burn the whole collection.

  But now she had other problems. “How sweet, my dear, I think you’ve found your soulmate,” she sobbed. “Why don’t you marry this thousand-year-old woman and leave me all alone? I know you don’t like me, that you’ve never liked me. You only married me for my looks…”

  Antoinette expected him to apologize, to hug her and say that he loved her and had always loved her. That he loved her for her heart, not just her gorgeous face. She knew he would do exactly what she told him: send the old lady away and give Antoinette the party she deserved.

  Instead, he got up and said, “I’ll see if Grandma Bertha needs anything.” He left the room.

  Antoinette stood like a statue in front of the dressing table. What had just happened? Who was the man who had stood up to her, and what had he done to her husband Richard? Antoinette bent down and picked up the emerald earrings. She needed to be calm. The plan was still in motion. She only had to carry out what she had arranged, and Richard would fry like a fish at the end of the party. After that, finishing Grandma Bertha would be at the top of her list.

  Now, as the guests mingled in the garden, Antoinette stared at Richard and the old lady. He was drinking a ginger ale, which much ruined her plans for the evening. Grandma Bertha was knitting that same purple scarf, smiling at him while Richard showed her his stamps. Antoinette couldn’t hear what they were saying, but they seemed pretty happy in each other’s company.

  One of the guests approached Antoinette. “It’s nice to see Richie talking like that to someone.”

  Antoinette turned and saw Arthur Something, one of her husband’s business partners. “I agree,” she said, with a sweet smile.

  The guests were all looking at Richard and his new friend. Antoinette knew they were laughing behind her back. They all needed something to talk about, and this was pure gold. Anyone who knew Richard could see that he was having the time of his life talking to that old lady. “Who is she, an aunt or something?” Arthur asked.

  Antoinette took a sip at her wine. “Just someone he met on holiday,” she said, wishing he would go away.

  “You’re not jealous, are you?” Arthur asked with a smile.

  Antoinette tried to remain calm, although she was ready to throw the contents of her glass in Arthur’s face. “Why should I be?” she said, trying to remember if she had ever slept with him.

  “You know, Antoinette, a woman like you could have any man she wanted,” he said. “But I think there are more important things to you, aren’t there?”

  Antoinette kept her cool. “Arthur, I don’t know what you’re talking about. Now, if you excuse me, I’m going to freshen up.”

  She shut herself in the bathroom and looked at her face in the mirror. Richard was going to talk about his stamps all night. He was going to drink soft drinks, and he wasn’t going to do what she told him to do. He wasn’t going to jump. Very well. That didn’t mean she was going to give up on her plan. He had just bought himself another evening. But as she stared at her beautiful face in the mirror, Antoinette Wood promised herself that he would die the following day. And he wold not die alone.

  Back at the party, she put on her best fake smile and approached her husband with a kiss. “Darling, you are going to bore Grandma Bertha to death with these silly things!”

  Richard looked at Grandma Bertha, who smiled at him.

  “Not at all!” she said. “Though I could use another beer.”

  “Why don’t you fetch one for her, Richard?” asked Antoinette, though there were plenty of waiters around. “I’d like to have a girl talk with our friend.”

  Richard nodded, leaving them alone. Grandma Bertha didn’t seem to mind being alone with her. “Your hubby is one hell of a guy!” she said. “Don’t ever take him for granted.”

  Antoinette giggled. “He is, isn’t he? Can’t believe how lucky I am.” She changed the subject. “Richard said you were going to travel around our country…”

  “Oh, yeah, I heard that Jane Marple’s grave is around here somewhere.”

  “A grave?” asked Antoinette.

  Grandma Bertha nodded. “Yes. I’d thought of having a picnic there.”

  What kind of person has a picnic in a graveyard? Antoinette asked herself, but kept talking: “Why don’t we go there tomorrow? Just the two of us?”

  Grandma Bertha squinted at her. “Why, are you a Jane Marple fan as well?”

  “I’d just like to spend some more time with you,” said Antoinette. “Get to know you better. What do you say?”

  Richard was almost back with the beer, and Antoinette wanted an answer before he reached them.

  “That’s fine,” said Grandma Bertha. “But we must leave early.”

  Antoinette was pleased. They were going to leave early all right. And only one of them was going to return.

  5

  Next morning, Antoinette waited by the white Rolls-Royce Richard had given her for her last birthday, wearing a white suit and white gloves. She had a nasty surprise when she saw Grandma Bertha approaching her. “You are not planning to bring those beasts, are you?”

  Grandma Bertha nodded. “The doggies love to ride in cars,” she said as Rufus, Castor and Mustafar followed her.

  Now I have to kill the dogs too, thought Antoinette. But, no, that wouldn’t work. Those beasts would ruin her car seats. She was already pissed off at Richard for allowing them to travel in their private jet, although they had remained pretty calm during the flight. Antoinette was far from being a dog person, but she was aware that, if the beasts saw her attacking Grandma Bertha, they wouldn’t just sit and watch.

  “Are you sure this is a good idea?” she asked Grandma Bertha, with her best phony smile. “What if they… try to pee on the tombstones?”

  Grandma Bertha was by her side. The dogs gathered around them. “Don’t worry,” she said. “They are very polite.”

  Then they started to bark at Antoinette. First the wiener one, then the other two joined in. Antoinette leaned back against the car as they barked and bared their teeth. “Get rid of them!” she yelled at Grandma Bertha. “They’re going to bite me.”

  “Boys, stop that silliness!” said Grandma Bertha, waving at them. “I’m so sorry, Toni. They never do that! Only when they think someone means harm to me.”

  Scared though she was, Antoinette was still able to sense the sarcasm in Grandma Bertha’s voice as she said those words. She wondered if the old bag could read her mind. “Why would they think that?”

  Grandma Bertha had finally convinced the dogs to stop barking. “Who knows? Dogs have simple minds, but they sometimes do things we can’t understand. But you’re right. It’s better not to bring them along. I’ll walk them back to the house, then we can go on our little trip.”

  Antoinette was mad as hell, but needed to keep up her act. She was going to drive around for a while with Grandma Bertha, then pretend they were lost. Little would Grandma Bertha know that Antoinette knew the area well – and she knew exactly which rock she was going to run the car into.

  Poor Grandma Bertha, she would say later. Didn’t even think of fastening her seatbelt. Antoinette had, of course, meddled with the seatbelt in advance, so it wouldn’t work even if she remembered to use it. Sh
e was eager to grab the old lady’s head and bash it against the console until she was dead. Then she could concentrate on more important things, like killing her husband and being filthy rich for the rest of her life.

  She waited. And waited. Where was she? Antoinette kept checking her Rolex. After almost twenty minutes, she decided to go back inside and see what was happening. She had barely crossed the front door when she heard the loud snore, like a chainsaw cutting through wood. Grandma Bertha was sitting on the living-room couch, her dogs gathered around her, having a nap.

  “Hey!” Antoinette yelled.

  Grandma Bertha carried on snoring.

  “Come on, I’m waiting for you!”

  “Be quiet!” said Richard, coming into the living room carrying a blanket. “Grandma Bertha needs her rest.”

  He covered her with the blanket, took his wife’s hand and walked her out of the room.

  “Richard, she’s making fun of me!” Antoinette complained.

  They were in the room where Richard stored his antiques. He wasn’t as meticulous with them as he was with his stamps, but keeping old stuff around seemed to make him feel at home. “What do you mean?” he asked, shutting the door so they wouldn’t disturb the old lady.

  Antoinette shook off his hand. “We were going on a little excursion,” she said, doing her best to sound nice. “We were going to visit a cemetery!”

  “Why?”

  She finally lost patience. “Who cares? Grandma Bertha was supposed to put the dogs on a leash and come back to me, and what did she do?”

  Richard raised his voice in a way she didn’t know he was capable of. “Show some respect, would you? She’s very old and needs her rest.”

  What is this? Antoinette asked herself in awe. He’s telling me what to do now? He’s never done anything like that before. What is happening? She stepped backwards and her elbow touched the Ming vase that stood on the hall table. It fell on the ground and shattered into a dozen pieces.