Right Round

Right Round

  By Finn Herloce

  Copyright © Finn Herloce 2010

  ***

  He could still see the little white card, lying in her pale fist. The phone number was nearly illegible through the blood. Red blots. Red streaks everywhere. It seemed too bright to be real. Too much, this was too much. Her round face, once so full of life, now drained from every emotion. Her soft brown eyes staring in the distance, but they would never see again. Her black hair that always shined in the light now was a dull grey tangled mess. H could do nothing but sit here, next to her cold body, tears streaming down his face, mixing with the blood, and hold her lifeless hand in his. ‘My Mina, my poor Mina, how did this happen? How could this happen?’ He whispered over and over again. He even kept whispering as the cops drove him to the station.

  He had been complaining at work, yes, he thought he had. His affaire with Lucy, the coffee girl, had gotten out of control completely. It was supposed to be a one night stand, a fling, pure lust. Now, Lucy apparently thought there was something more.

  ‘She is crazy, I tell you! She shows up in the middle of the night at my door wearing only her coat. While Mina is sleeping in our bed upstairs!’ he had said. His colleagues all laughed. On patted him on the arm and had made the clever remark

  ‘Well, at least she is hot.’

  ‘Could be worse,’ a second agreed. They didn’t understand, this was getting dangerous. Lucy had absolutely no idea of personal space and kept harassing him, calling him her one true love, her everything. He had tried reasoning, he had tried yelling, he had even hit her once. She had left, crying and completely hysteric. To return to his work the next day like nothing had happened.

  That Lucy bothered him, John didn’t mind that much. It was his own fault. But lately she was acting jealous and even violent at times. When she showed up at his doorstep one night (dressed this time, thank God) and he had refused to let her in, all of a sudden she fell into a fit.

  ‘You have another woman there, don’t you? Don’t you? I know you do! Who is she? I swear I will kill that whore if I see her! Is she pretty? Am I not good enough for you?’

  Then she started screaming words he didn’t even try to understand. He softly closed the door in her face, making sure not to slam it, as that would certainly wake Mina. If she wasn’t standing at the window already, wondering who was at their door at this time. Lucy of course kept shouting to him, but at least he couldn’t see her anymore. He softly climbed up the stairs, for once glad with the soft ugly red flooring Mina had picked out, and slipped under the covers that still held his warmth. Mina moaned in her deep sleep, and turned to lie against his side. He put his arm around her, smiling, already forgotten about the crazy bitch that was decapitating his front lawn gnome in blind rage.

  From that, it had gotten worse. She didn’t only slay his garden props, she also keyed his car, ripped his mail, and once threw a brick through his kitchen window with the word DIE scratched into it. When John came home from the office that day, and he saw Mina sobbing on the kitchen floor, her innocent almond shaped eyes rimmed red, her face stained from crying, something inside of him snapped. This could not go on like this anymore. It was him who got them into this mess, and he would make everything right again. He would get rid of Lucy, and everything would go back to normal.

  After he had comforted Mina and put her into bed, John started business. When Lucy had first acted up and he had told about it at work, one of his coworkers, a tall, rather bulky middle-aged man what was starting to bald but was trying to cover it up had taken him aside.

  ‘If you want ever want someone to …’ He paused.

  ‘To do what?’ John had asked, impatiently to get away from this man whom he barely knew.

  ‘To, you know, clean up, if you know what I mean!’

  John knew what the man meant alright, but he thought such measures might be a bit drastic. On the other hand, he wanted to leave this strange balding guy that didn’t stick to his own business enough, so he took the little white card the man extended with a slightly shaking hang. Without looking he put the card in the pocket of his jacket and walked away. He felt the eyes of this stranger burn into his back.

  John was now sitting on his coach, phone in one hand and a little piece of something that once had been part of a tree, that was now a deciding factor of his destiny. “Murders, Massacres & More” it said in black curly letters. Beneath the text there was an international phone number. Nothing else. He had checked the back twice. Am I really going to call this number? he thought. Talk about drastic. Then he saw Mina again, his lovely Mina, cramped up on the floor. His brow furrowed, his eyes hardened. He dialed the number.

  Someone immediately picked up, like they had been waiting for his call.

  ‘Murders, Massacres and More, good evening! Your most reliable source for assassins. How can I help you?’ a young woman chirped happily into his ear. Okay, this is downright bizarre. Am I really doing this?

  ‘Er, yes, well… I’m looking to get rid of someone, I guess,’ he answered uncertainly. How was this supposed to work?

  ‘Aren’t we all sir, aren’t we all. You will have to be more specific of what you require of us. We can send you the means, a nice gun maybe, or a good stabber, er, knife, beg me pardon sir, or we can give you the full package deal, including destruction of all evidence. We also provide excellent cleaning services, our guys get that blood out of your carpet in no time! But that will cost you extra sir, as you might understand. So what do you have in mind?’ she asked expectantly. Unreal.

  ‘No, no, nothing of that, I just want her to disappear’

  ‘To disappear sir? Ah, are we talking about an unwanted mistress here? Yes, that we can do easily. We can get a lot of these cases.’ She laughed like talking about slicing innocent people’s throats was the most normal thing in the world to do.

  ‘Disappear, yes, we can make it look like a robbery gone wrong if you like sir, in case someone should find the body. Not that they find our waste often, no sir they never do, we have our ways, but if they would they still wouldn’t know you called this upon her!’

  He wished this girl would stop talking. His head hurt.

  ‘That’s fine, I guess. How much is this gonna cost me?’

  ‘Our wages are very fair, dear sir. For one disappearance we ask about a thousand. Depends on the target, really. If she’s a hooker you can get an extra prostitute-discount. Is she a hooker?’

  He said she was not. The little card in his left hand was starting to shake.

  ‘Okay, no discount for you then sir! If you would give us the details now sir, who our target is, possibly where she lives or otherwise where we can find her, where and when you want her to be taken out and the weapon of your choice. And of course your method of payment, sir, if you don’t mind.’

  They settled that it would take place in three days, as John knew where Lucy lived, so her bringer of doom could easily find her. He also agreed to leave the money in the mailbox of Lucy’s house. You can’t pay an assassin with a credit-card of course. When he finally hung up, he felt completely drained. All of the stress of the previous weeks that had become a leaden weight he carried everywhere, finally fell off his shoulders. He had taken care of this quite alright. He was proud of himself.

  The next few days Mina eyed him suspiciously and asked John why he looked so happy all of a sudden.

  ‘Because I have you!’ he said while picking her up and twirling her around like she was a little girl. She laughed with him, but still didn’t look completely at ease. Just wait and see, sweet Mina, just wait and see!

  The big day had come. He had taken the money from his savings account at the bank and had put it in a carton box, just like the overly enthusiastic phonegirl had told him
to. Mina was out, grocery shopping or something like that, so he didn’t have to sneak around. Positively smug he took the bus (Mina had taken the car) to Lucy’s suburban home. He got there at the agreed time, looked for her mailbox, and placed his little box on top of it. He was just on the verge of going home again, when he noticed something odd. There were two cars in Lucy’s driveway. One was her own, a Volvo that had seen too many years and too few paintjobs. But the other car wasn’t hers. It was his.

  He couldn’t think anymore. He only saw Mina’s face, saw her smiling, but also brooding. He ran for the front door. She knew he had had an affair. She had known it all along. Front door open, entering living room, no one there, running up the stairs. She had come to confront Lucy about it. Yes, that was exactly what Mina would do. And Lucy said she would kill her if she ever saw her. Climbed the stairs, bustled into the bedroom. Stopped dead cold. There was a body on the floor. And it was Mina. John dropped to his knees, not noticing the bloody knife he touched when he crawled on hands and knees to his dead lover. Oh Mina, I am so sorry, so so sorry…

  Dear sir John, we hope you are satisfied with our services. We hereby inform you that everything is handled as agreed. We look forward to be at your service again! PS, this number cannot be reached again. When the need arises, we will find you.