The Homicide Magnet

by Matt Ferraz

  “Look what you’ve done!” yelled Richard, pressing a button on the wall. “Do you know how precious this vase is? You need to be more careful!”

  Antoinette felt like bashing his head right there, using one of his other antiques as a weapon, but the butler arrived just at that moment to pick up the pieces of the vase.

  “Do you want me to glue it together for you, sir?”

  “That wouldn’t help, Roger,” explained Richard. “Call Mr Penn at the museum. He might be able to do something about it.”

  “Richard, I—” started Antoinette, but her husband had already left the room, with the butler. “What’s happening in here?” she asked herself again, then walked back into the living room.

  Grandma Bertha and her dogs had left.

  If Antoinette had been able to see her face at that moment, she would have covered it. It was the face of the real Antoinette, free of masks and disguises. She looked on the verge of insanity. Her face was as red as a rare steak, the veins in her forehead pulsating, her mouth wide open, and a look of complete perplexity in her eyes. This isn’t happening! she told herself. This can’t be happening! This was her kingdom, after all, these were her servants, and they had never acted this way before.

  She grabbed a poker and decided she was going to finish it right there. Put an end to those two. She would come up with a cover story later. She was smart. She was clever. She could do it…

  Then a strange calm took over her. Antoinette put the poker back, fixed herself a drink and sat on the couch. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. Doing it like this would be a mistake. She didn’t want to end up in jail. Her plan was to get rid of Richard and enjoy spending his fortune – and that plan was still a-go. The important thing was not to lose her temper. She had to keep calm and formulate a new plan.

  That afternoon she found Grandma Bertha sitting in the garden, knitting while the dogs played around her.

  “So, Grandma,” Antoinette said, in the sweetest voice she could muster, “what happened to our little trip?”

  “Oh, never mind that!” Grandma Bertha said. “I know you were just trying to be nice, and I didn’t want to bother you. Also, I’d prefer to visit the grave alone, I intend to spend a few hours there.”

  “It would really be my pleasure—” Antoinette tried to argue.

  “I don’t think so,” said Grandma Bertha.

  Antoinette sat by her. “But there has to be something we could do together,” said Antoinette. “I want to be your friend, you know.”

  Grandma Bertha giggled at that. “Mrs Wood, I have many friends, but only a few people I really trust. My doggies, my family, a girl named Winifred Compson, and your husband Richard. These are the people I know are trustworthy – and I don’t include you on that list.”

  “What do you mean?” asked Antoinette.

  Grandma Bertha put her knitting on her lap and stared at Antoinette with a serious face. “I know you want your husband dead, Mrs Wood, and I have no intention of letting you do it.”

  Antoinette’s hands were shaking. Grandma Bertha’s hands were as still as a rock, and she was holding her knitting needles in a way that suggested she could use them as a weapon if Antoinette tried to put her hands around her throat.

  “What do you mean?” she asked. “That I’m trying to murder Richard?”

  “Your words, not mine.”

  “What are you waiting for, then?” asked Antoinette. “Get the phone and call the police!”

  Grandma Bertha shook her head. “I don’t want to involve the police yet,” she said. “But I have my eye on you. I’ll defeat you at your own game.”

  Antoinette stared at her knitting needles. She knew she could overpower Grandma Bertha without much effort. But now wasn’t the time to do that. She was going to do this the right way. And she wanted Grandma Bertha to live just long enough to see her succeed.

  Grandma Bertha put two fingers in her mouth and whistled. She then picked up her stuff and walked back to the house, leaving Antoinette behind. The dogs followed her to her room.

  “Enjoy it while you can,” said Antoinette. She had never felt so much hate for a person as she did for that old lady right now. Murdering Richard was practical matter. But murdering Grandma Bertha was going to be a delight.

  6

  How do you kill someone who knows you’re trying to kill them? At first, it seemed pretty straightforward. After all, Grandma Bertha was a guest at their house, and Antoinette had the keys to every room in it. How hard would it be to walk into the guest room while the old lady slept, and put a knife through her heart?

  But no, that would be too obvious. Poison was still an option. Put a little something in her tea and it would look like she just had a heart attack, like so many people of her age. But how to do it? In her tea? Grandma Bertha barely drank any. She preferred beer, and always drank it from sealed cans.

  Anyway, that seemed far too simple. She wanted to do something else. Not just put an end to Grandma Bertha’s life, but also to overpower her intellectually. She wanted to be able to say – even if only to herself – that she had been smart enough to beat the Homicide Magnet, that she had defeated the great detective at her own game.

  Antoinette was, by that point, an expert at planning murders, even though she not put her plans to the test. She knew things never went exactly as planned, and that lots of things could go wrong. But she wasn’t a fan of improvising, either. This had to be done the right way.

  She was contemplating the idea, sitting in an armchair in the bedroom, dressed in her nightie and with a box of bonbons in her lap, when Richard came in. He was dressed in a tweed suit, and had a wide smile in his face. “I was just having a blast with our guest,” he said, taking off his jacket. “She was telling me about this horror movie where a man gets inside a teleporter with a fly—”

  Antoinette interrupted him. “I thought you didn’t like that kind of film,” she said.

  Richard didn’t seem to notice the bitterness in her voice. “I usually don’t, but Grandma Bertha was telling me that this one is about how a man becomes a monster and—”

  “Enough!” Antoinette yelled. “I don’t want to hear any more about Grandma Bertha! I’m done! Ever since she came here, you haven’t paid any attention to me. It’s like I’m not even here! All I hear is you saying how funny she is, how great she is, how she reminds you of your stupid mother—”

  “Don’t talk to me like that!”

  “Here I am,” she continued. “I’m young, I’m beautiful, and I gave up a lot to be with you. I need to be loved! And you are abandoning me to pay all your attention to that crazy dog lady!”

  Every word had been calculated. She knew the drill like the palm of her hand. Richard was going to crumble at her feet, apologize, and ask what she wanted him to do. At that point, she only needed to keep moaning and he would become her slave and do anything she wanted him to.

  But this time, something else happened. Richard stood there looking at her. There was something different in his eyes. Something she never thought she would see there. “This isn’t working, Toni,” he said. “This marriage isn’t working.”

  “What?”

  He sat on the bed, looking in her eyes. “You know, people talk about you,” he said. “They tell me you’re no good, that you married me for my money. People told me that before the wedding, and they’re still saying it. I’ve never listened to them. Because I adore you. But now, I realize I have given up a lot for you. There were things I wanted to do that I couldn’t because they made you upset. Remember when I wanted to learn to play the saxophone? You laughed in my face, told me I was never going to be any good. And when I wanted to start a charity to help starving children, and you said it was a waste of time.”

  “Well… You know… I…” she mumbled. “I was trying to be realistic.”

  “And what is being realistic for you?” he asked. “You sit on your fat ass all day, doing nothing, complaining about everything, and whenever someon
e tries to do something useful with their lives, you mock them and act superior.”

  Antoinette’s hands were clenched so tight that her fingernails cut into her palms. “It was her who told you all that!” she said. “Grandma Bertha told you to come here and say these horrible things!”

  “No, she didn’t!” he yelled so loudly that she shrank back into the chair. “You want to know what she did? She listened to me. She gave me a beer and asked me if I was happy. Do you have any idea of the last time someone asked me that? No, because you’ve never bothered to. She’s a great listener, Grandma Bertha. We sat for two hours and I went on and on about how I felt about you and the things I regretted, and she never interrupted me, or started telling me about her own problems. And then I realized I wasn’t happy, and I wanted to put an end to this.”

  Antoinette’s eyes were huge. “What are you talking about?”

  “I want a divorce, Toni,” he said. “I’ll call my lawyers tomorrow. Don’t worry, you won’t end up on the street. I’ll support you until you find something useful to do. Which, I believe, won’t be any time soon.”

  She was shaking, and there were tears in her eyes. Real tears, not the kind she used to fake whenever she wanted something. But they weren’t tears of sadness, either. It was pure hate that she felt then. Her mask had slipped.

  Antoinette jumped at Richard and attacked him, scratching his face with her long fingernails. The cold-hearted schemer was gone. All that was left was a wild animal attacking a man who had stepped on her tail. Richard managed to overcome her and throw her on the bed. “Are you crazy?” he yelled, his face covered in blood.

  “You’re not going to get rid of me that easily!” Antoinette yelled, in tears. “Don’t you see what she’s trying to do? She’s trying to destroy me!”

  “And why would she want to do that?”

  Antoinette didn’t seem so sure. “Maybe… maybe she’s after your money too!”

  Despite the situation, he managed to laugh. “Are you nuts?” he said. “Grandma Bertha doesn’t want to marry me! She’s old enough to be my… Hey, did you say too?”

  She needed a gun. She should have bought a gun before. But guns were so noisy, and she had planned to be smart. And now, all she wanted was a pistol so she could go downstairs and put a bullet in Grandma Bertha’s wrinkled face.

  That wasn’t going to happen, though. Everything she had fought for, all the effort she had put into that scheme, was all gone. She had endured this marriage for eternity, had wasted the best years of her life on the stupid millionaire who had given her everything she wanted, had spent nights lying awake thinking of how she could get her hands on all his money… and what good was that now? She was going to go back to her old life, while Richard kept the mansion and the country house and the cars and the jet and everything that should have been hers – hers!

  “I’ve arranged a room for you in a hotel,” he said. “Maybe you should start packing. Don’t worry, I’ll look after you.”

  Antoinette started to laugh. There was nothing funny in the situation – at least, not from her point of view – but she couldn’t help it. It was all so absurd, and there was nothing she could do other than enjoy the absurdity. “You’re going to look after me?” she mocked. “You can’t even look after yourself, darling! Mark my words, you haven’t seen the last of me. You think you can just divorce me and get on with your life?”

  “I’m trying to be reasonable,” he said.

  “You believe everything she says, don’t you?”

  He shook his head. “No. She said some things I didn’t want to believe.”

  “Like what?” she asked. “That I’m trying to murder you?”

  His jaw dropped. “She never said anything like that! Why would she?”

  “Never mind.” Antoinette tried to change the subject. “What hotel are you putting me in?”

  But he didn’t hear her last question. “Are you?”

  “Am I what?”

  “Trying to murder me?”

  She denied it the best she could, while thinking of what to do next. Things seemed to have been going so well…

  7

  Sometimes, even at times when everything seems to be going wrong, destiny can smile and offer some sort of compensation. That’s what Antoinette thought when she entered the hotel and saw Grandma Bertha in the lobby. Unbelievable, she thought, watching from a distance while the old lady argued with the porter.

  There was no way Grandma Bertha could afford a place like that. This had to be a present from Richard. He wanted them both to get out of his house, and had paid for them to stay in the same hotel. His intentions were a mystery to her, but Antoinette saw an opportunity for revenge and decided to take it.

  The porter was trying to explain something important to Grandma Bertha. “You need to understand there are security issues, ma’am!” he said. “I’m not the one who made the rules.”

  “But you could bend them a little bit, couldn’t you?” she asked him.

  The porter scratched his head. “We’ve bent them already,” he said. “We would never accept animals in the hotel if it wasn’t for Mr Wood’s influence.”

  Antoinette approached them. “What’s happening here?”

  Grandma Bertha seemed strangely happy to see her. “Toni! Can you help me out? This man says I can’t bring my radio into the bathroom.”

  “It’s against regulations,” explained the porter. “No electric equipment is allowed in the bathrooms.”

  Grandma Bertha wasn’t pleased. “I’ve always liked to listen to the radio while I take a bath,” she said. Antoinette realized the old lady had brought an old radio with her. It was a heavy, clunky thing.

  “What’s your name?” Antoinette asked the porter.

  “Jones, ma’am.”

  “Listen, Jones,” she said, in her most seductive voice, “I heard you mentioning Mr Wood’s influence. Do you have any idea who I am?”

  He stared at her for a second, then his eyes grew large. “Mrs Wood, I’m so sorry! I didn’t…”

  “It’s okay,” she said, happy to still be able to pass as Richard’s wife. Soon everyone would know about the divorce, but for the time being she could still enjoy the privileges of her last name. “This old lady is my husband’s aunt, and she has these funny quirks.”

  “I understand, ma’am, but I can’t allow—”

  “I’ll tell you what we’ll do,” she said, with more authority. “You let her bring her radio to her room, and let me have the key, so I can drop by and see if everything’s okay.”

  The porter was sweating. “This is most unusual, ma’am.”

  “Do it,” said Antoinette. “Or you won’t have a job by next morning.”

  The porter took a look at Grandma Bertha, who had been petting her dogs without paying attention to their conversation. Then he looked behind her to all the trolleys that carried Mrs Wood’s luggage. He knew he should do what she was telling him – it could cost his job if management found out. But he also knew that one word from her husband could not only get him fired, but could prevent him from getting another job in that town. “That’s okay, ma’am,” he said. “She can bring the radio.”

  “I’ll come back for the key later,” she said, then turned to Grandma Bertha. “Don’t worry, it’s all arranged. You can bring your radio wherever you want.”

  Grandma Bertha still looked at her with suspicion. “Why are you being nice to me?” she asked.

  Antoinette laid her hand on Grandma Bertha’s shoulder. “Because I want you to realize I’m not the evil villain you think I am.”

  “You don’t expect to buy me, do you?”

  Antoinette giggled. “Buy you? Why do you think these things? First you say I want to kill my husband…”

  “And don’t you?”

  This was the moment, Antoinette knew. She had to give her best performance. “Oh, hell, what can I say?” she asked. “We all do things we know we shouldn’t do. That morning in the garden, you ac
cused me of trying to kill Richard. I never did that. I’ve never killed anyone. But if you need to know, yes, sometimes I wish he was dead. I was bored with our marriage. But I never pointed a gun at him. All I wanted was freedom. And I found an easier and cleaner way of getting it: I just packed my stuff and left.”

  Antoinette wasn’t sure how much of that story the old lady would buy. But Grandma Bertha listened with attention then said, “I guess you have that freedom now.”

  The way she said it convinced Antoinette that Grandma Bertha believed her. Either that or she was an amazing actress. Antoinette preferred to believe the first option. After all, fooling people was her specialty, and how hard could it be to fool Grandma Bertha?

  “I got it, all right,” she said. “But it still hurts a lot.”

  Grandma Bertha nodded. “I know how you feel. I was becoming fond of Richard, but then he said these terrible things…”

  “What things?” asked Antoinette.

  “It doesn’t matter now,” she said. “I just found out that he isn’t the man I thought he was. At least he agreed to pay for a room in this hotel while I decide where I’ll go next.”

  “You’re going to continue your travels?”

  “Oh, there’s so much more of the world that I want to see!” said Grandma Bertha. “But isn’t it funny that we’re at the same hotel? Or did Richard pick this one for you too?”

  “It’s the best hotel in the region,” was the best excuse Antoinette could come up with. “It’s not that improbable that we would both come here. Which room are you in?”

  Grandma Bertha checked her key. “206, and you?”

  Antoinette gave a wide smile. “209. We’ll be right next to each other.”

  “Well, I’m going up now,” said Grandma Bertha with a yawn. “I have to take my tablets and then I think I’ll take a nice long bath. I’ll see you later.”

  “I hope so,” said Antoinette.

  Grandma Bertha was on her way to the lift, the porter carrying her two suitcases and the old radio. But then she seemed to remember something and turned back to Antoinette. “You never really struck me as the murderer type, did you know that?”