SYNOPSIS: Explores the final few days in the life of police officer Marcus Lithammer, revealing how it was that he died and the culprit responsible for his murder.
Officer Marcus Lithammer was found dead this morning inside the house of a Mr. Dominic Chase. He died instantly from a bullet to the side of the head, the murder weapon; a magnum revolver located a couple of metres away from the body. Dominic Chase, who is believed to be dealing with psychological issues is the prime suspect in this murder investigation and is still unaccounted for. Dominic’s family has told police they will do everything they can to help bring their son in swiftly and safely. Officer Lithammer, a decorated veteran of the Melbourne police force leaves behind a fiancé.
Fifteen nights earlier:
The sound of the loud bar echoed around me as I shuffled in my chair, staring into the face of the soon to be Mrs. Marcus Lithammer. She had brown shoulder length hair and a spectacular smile. Her teeth were a bright white that was almost artificial in appearance whilst her lips were covered in a bright red lubricant that made them glitter under the lighting from the ceiling above. She wore a fabulous black dress with what looked to be small sapphires located across every inch of its design, the garment placed tightly across her body, revealing all of her curves. She smiled back at me as we shared a toast, downing the drinks in one gulp. I smacked my lips, feeling my revolver pressing up against my lower thigh as I moved it over to the adjacent side. ‘What do you say we call it a night?’ I asked, alternate devious intentions in mind.
‘But it’s not even eleven p.m.’ retorted Abigail. Before she could say anymore her beeper went off, her face becoming contorted in frustration as I sat back in my chair, holding my head in my hands.
‘And it’s a mystery as to who that could be’ I said sarcastically as Abigail gave me a dirty look.
‘He’s my brother’ she retorted, reaching around inside of her black leather hand bag for the device that was irritatingly ruining a perfectly orchestrated evening.
‘Yeah, your brother’ I grunted, ‘who appears to spend more time with you than I have in the past six months. I want to spend time with my fiancé for at least one night without his interference. Is that too much to ask for?’
‘You know about his condition’ shot back Abigail.
I nodded, rolling my eyes into the back of my head. ‘I know, I know, fear of the dark, fear of tight spaces, fear of being touched. I ask you, how many things can a guy be afraid of?’
‘I told him, if he needed my help to call me’ retorted Abigail. ‘So if you intend to vent your aggression on somebody, let it be me. He’s innocent’ she said, storming out of the bar as I quickly paid the tab before hurrying after her. ‘Shit’ I thought, ‘if everyone was so damn innocent I’d be out of a job and living out on my arse.’
It was a short drive to her brother’s house, the streets dark and gloomy, the moon being extraordinarily bright at its pinnacle in the sky as I stopped the vehicle adjacent to the intended residence. The double storey home looked pale and gloomy in the darkness as Abigail looked at me, before exiting the vehicle, her breath visible in the darkness as I did the same.
The door to the residency flung open before Abigail had even rung the bell, her brother looking at her with glee filled eyes.
‘Hello Dominic’ smiled Abigail.
‘I’m glad you came’ said her brother. ‘I was having trouble sleeping. Whenever I closed my eyes this nightmare continued to play in my mind. Might you be able to stay with me tonight, at least until I manage to get to sleep?’ he asked as Abigail nodded, leading the way into the home. I managed a nod as Dominic looked at me, being unable to properly master a verbal greeting as the door closed behind me.
The interior of the home was shrouded with wood; wooden floors, wooden walls, even the furniture sharing the exact same pattern. Abigail led the way up the stairs, before turning right upon reaching the landing and escorting Dominic into his room, Star Wars posters littering the walls as I stood at the doorway as both brother and sister made their way into bed. I watched and waited patiently as Dominic began to count his usual numerical sequence in his mind to help him get to sleep, Abigail looking up at me with apologetic eyes as she mouthed the word ‘sorry.’ I instantly realised that she was not coming home with me tonight and it was with an angry heart that I briskly made my way down the stairs, slamming the front door behind me, hoping I kept that bastard of a brother awake for just a short while longer.
After driving around the town for a short while I eventually made my way back to the police station, logging into the target range and shuffling over to the farthest lane. Setting myself up in front of the target, I removed my magnum revolver from my belt and loaded all six chambers, pointing the loaded weapon at the intended target and squeezing, watching it go away. ‘If only everything were so easy’ I thought with a mischievous grin, ‘if only everything were so easy.’
Eight nights earlier:
I had parked my vehicle outside Dominic’s residence, waiting for his return home to speak with him. I took a deep breath as I turned on the radio, listening to some agonisingly brutal rap song which made my blood boil as I shut the radio off once more. Staring through the rear view mirror I suddenly noticed Dominic hobbling up the street, holding a cluster of books close to his chest, his eyes darting back and forth as though he were expecting somebody to attack him. Paranoid bastard, I’ll give him something to be worried about.
I exited the vehicle and hurried across the road over to him. ‘We need to talk Mr. Chase’ I began, being a little out of breath as I continued. ‘It’s about your sister. Well, actually it’s about your sister and I.’ I looked at him, his face looking puzzled, as if he were attempting to play coy, pretending he didn’t know who I was. ‘You do know who I am right?’ I continued, my voice tightening with anger. ‘We’ve met countless times in the past. You must have recognised me at some point in your ridiculously useless life! Anyway, I’m just here to say that I want you to lay off your sister. Why don’t you call your parents next time you have trouble sleeping? Now, I know about your little problems and I feel for you man, I really do, and many people in my position wouldn’t. But I would like to at least spend a little time romantically involved with your sister. Can you allow me that?’
The bastard didn’t even respond, appearing to completely ignore me as he walked past me and towards his front door. ‘You can’t have her you know!’ I cried as he slammed the door behind him.
One night earlier:
I lay in my relaxing bed, the wooden slats beneath me groaning as Abigail made her way over to me, unbuttoning her purple blouse and dropping it to the floor. Her amazingly luscious body that I had not seen much of recently looked as delicious as ever as I licked my lips, eager to taste her succulent flesh. I found myself salivating at her image, her dark hair rolling across her shoulders, her darker eyes looking directly into mine. Her brassiere matched the colour of her panties, both being a filthy black in colour as she made her way into bed beside me. I reached my arm around her and caressed her skin, kissing her moist lips as she groaned.
‘We haven’t done this in a long time’ she purred, beginning to unbutton my police uniform, falling on top of me and giggling as I embraced her in a warm hug. The two of us locked lips as her tongue ventured into my mouth, exploring the environment as I closed my eyes. Her hands reached for my zipper as I began to feel myself getting an erection – the phone spontaneously ringing and breaking through my greatest fantasies.
‘No, no, no!’ I shouted, infuriated at what had just happened as Abigail made her way off from my person and reached for the phone. Speaking for only a few short seconds, I instantly knew what was happening as I fell back into bed, holding my head in my hands as she put the phone back down. ‘I’m sorry Marcus’ she said. ‘But I really need to go.’
‘You don’t have to’ I said, becoming aggravated. ‘You need him like a hole in the head. I’m your fiancé! Could we at least spend some quality time together before we seal the bond? I was accosted by an attempted murderer today but you don’t hear me crying out for help, do you? I come home and I want to spend some time with the woman I am so in love with, not watch her leave to spend time with her brother. Do you not want to feel my erected penis inside you? Do you not want me caressing your succulent breasts? Do you not want me sucking your delectable clitoris? Jesus Christ, if I didn’t know any better I’d say the two of you were engaging in an incestuous relationship!’
‘That’s enough Marcus!’ shouted Abigail, putting her clothes back on. ‘I don’t need this crap from you right now’ she cried, tears in her eyes. ‘So just cut the bull and leave me be. I’ll be back as soon as I can’ she said, leaving the room as I fell back into the bed.
‘I can drive you!’ I shouted, hearing her cry ‘I’ll take a cab!’ the front door slamming behind her. I watched her from my window as she hurried down the street, cell phone to her ear. I buttoned up my shirt, grunting whilst I did so before eagerly hurrying down the stairs two at a time with the intention of following her.
I had parked in my usual position, opposite Dominic’s residence. I had watched Abigail arrive by cab, had seen the lights in her brother’s bedroom go on as she knelt down beside him, their shadows moving across the walls. I had waited patiently for over two hours, wondering what was taking them so long as Abigail finally emerged from the house, a taxi pulling up immediately as soon as she reached the curb, beginning to drive her back down the street. I rubbed my hands together as I took a deep breath, exiting my vehicle and walking towards the house. I picked the lock with a thin thread of wire, hearing the tumblers click into place, the door opening in front of me as I walked out onto the landing with the intention of speaking to her brother. I closed the door as quietly as I could behind me before slowly making my way across the wooden floor. Jesus Christ! Who in their right mind had their house comprised entirely of wood?
‘I’m sure I’d get his attention now’ I thought as I began to make my way up the stairs as slowly as possible, before hearing a sound coming from the kitchen. I crept back down the stairs and across the wooden floor, noticing a shape in the darkness that appeared to be constructing a sandwich as I sprang up behind him. Grabbing him around the neck, he instantaneously began to scream and squirm in protest, thrashing his arms around insanely as I dragged him into the lounge room and threw him into one of his wooden chairs.
‘Remember me?’ I growled through clenched teeth, ‘cuz I remember you.’ I took out my revolver and held it at my side, Dominic’s eyes growing wide with fear. ‘You ignored me before, but I doubt you can do that now. You think you know what fear is? Well let me educate you on something – you haven’t even scratched the surface. You know nothing about fear! Now, let me show you what fear really is’ I growled, holding the revolver in front of me. ‘Let’s see who the fates decide is the one most deserving of the love and affection of your beautiful sister, shall we?’
I removed every round but one from the chamber of my side arm, placing the others inside my pocket as I pointed the gun at his left temple and pulled the trigger. Dominic leapt in fear, astonished that nothing had happened. I drew the weapon to my head and smiled, pulling the trigger as I heard the weapon click, the chamber being empty. I pointed the gun back at Dominic, feeling extraordinarily powerful as beads of sweat ran across his face while he appeared to try to mouth sentences, the sounds being incoherent drivel. Pulling the trigger, the gun once again clicked, failing to fire as I turned the gun back on myself. I smiled at Dominic, holding the weapon steadily in my hand, before squeezing the trigger.
SYNOPSIS: A reviewer of restaurants has his work cut out for him when he finds himself in the presence of quite possibly the single most terrible restaurant he has ever reviewed in his life
Barry Bardronsky sat in his red Porsche outside of the Overboard, the new restaurant which had recently opened in Melbourne. Bright red neon lights flashed in front of the restaurant, allowing all to be bewildered by its brilliant physical tranquility. He rubbed his black beard and sighed, hoping that this was not going to be yet another insufferable evening of unsatisfying products.
Barry was renown across the state for his reviews of new restaurants in the newspaper, becoming quite unpopular amongst many of the owners, especially when they closed down after the supposedly slanderous words that Barry used to describe their venues. It wasn’t his fault if their food was less than adequate to satisfy his tastes. After all, it was his job to warn the people if there was a problem with the food, not endorse venues that were unable to accommodate a pack of turkeys, let alone human beings.
He rubbed his hands down his blue shirt, admiring his black jeans and brown boots as he stared around at the other vehicles passing by his. He noticed one license plate specifying the owner as ‘KIKASS’ whilst another stated ‘PEN15’. Barry shook his head, not having time for humor much these days in the line of work he was in.
He gingerly stepped from the vehicle, holding a clipboard in his hand and a pen in the other as he made his way to the sidewalk and briskly marched through the cool winter breeze towards the restaurant doors. A man dressed in red opened the door politely for him and the other patrons as they stepped inside onto a magnificently constructed landing. The carpet laid out across the floor was a bright red in colour, with yellow lining around the sides. The walls were decorated in black and yellow patterns, whilst musicians played tender dinner music in the far corner.
Each of the patrons were dressed in fine luxurious clothes, Barry finding himself to be a little underdressed as he fixed his shirt collar, attempting to blend in with the rest of the crowd. The maitre d’ at the front of the restaurant who was allowing the queue of individuals hoping to enter recognised Barry, clicking his fingers for two of the waiters closest to escort him directly into the restaurant proper.
Barry had to admit already that if the rest of the evening persisted in quite the same manner that it would be one of the few restaurants he had ever credited.
He sat down at the finely organised wooden table, with blue napkins, sparkling cutlery and red menus that were each placed before him in a formalised fashion. He pulled the menu close to him and began to quickly skim over what he could possibly order, many of which he had tried at previous venues, each meal becoming a bad memory that he so desperately wished to forget.
The man who had allowed him entry suddenly appeared at his side, holding a gargantuan plush teddy bear in his hands. ‘Here sir, this was left for you.’
Barry didn’t know what to say as he took the plush toy and studied the card attached to its left ear.
‘Good luck at this new restaurant, love Carol’ stated the card as he smiled. It appeared his co-worker was not without a sense of humor as he noticed the strange looks he began to receive from the other patrons. Barry nodded at the man who returned to his post, whilst Barry placed the bear in the seat opposite him.
A waiter appeared moments later beside him, eagerly awaiting to hear what he wished to order.
‘I see you have quite an exquisite list of delicacies here’ specified Barry as the man nodded. ‘Tell me, if I order sausages, how long do you think they will be?’
‘I can’t be too sure sir’ replied the man, ‘but I would assume eight centimeters.’
Barry tilted his head to the side and sighed before continuing. ‘Moreover, do you serve crabs in this restaurant?’
‘Yes sir’ answered the man. ‘We serve anyone.’
‘I’m sorry, have I done anything to offend you?’ questioned Barry.
‘I’m the ‘idiot’ you insulted at the Royal Galah last month. And the ‘imbecile’ you insulted at the Skipping Kangaroo a few weeks before that.’
Barry nodded, failing to remember such insults, but coming to realise that he insulted nearly every waiter at every venue he had ever attended, so it was quite difficult to keep track.
‘In that case I’ll have the crocodile soup with your finest Merlot. On top of that I would like to have a breadstick. And step on it, I really don’t have all night here you know’.
The man nodded before turning to the plush teddy bear figurine. ‘And you sir, what would you like. Oh, I’m sorry, you obviously don’t want anything because, as I can see, you’re stuffed!’
With that the waiter turned on his heel and left back the way he came, a couple of the patrons sniggering at what had just occurred as Barry rubbed his temple. It was going to be a long night he thought as he put a mark down on the service at the Overboard.
A man dressed in white and black attire suddenly made his way out, bringing a plate over to Barry’s table with what he had ordered. Barry picked up the breadstick and shook his head. ‘Why has my bread been squashed?’
‘Well, the waiter said that you wanted me to step on it because you were in a hurry’ replied the man.
‘Not figuratively you moron!’ hissed Barry.
Barry took the spoon from the plate and had a quick taste of the soup he had ordered, spitting it back out in disgust. ‘And what’s more this soup tastes funny!’
‘Well, I don’t hear you laughing about it’ stated the man.
‘None of you are taking me seriously’ grunted Barry, becoming aggravated. ‘I’ve changed my mind. I no longer want what I’ve ordered. Instead, I would like a medium salad with egg and vegetable soup on the side’.
The man before him nodded slowly before taking away the products which Barry had refused as he yanked the cork out from the bottle of Merlot and took a great swig of the alcoholic beverage.
A few moments later the new order that Barry had asked for began to be brought over to him on two different plates, the man quickly retreating back to whence he came after deliverance of the products.
Barry took a forkful of salad before applying it with egg, placing the fork into his mouth, a foul expression coming over his face as he turned to the soup to look for something to wash it down. He quickly turned away after seeing what was in the adjacent meal, taking yet another great sip of Merlot and crying out for the nearest waiter to help him.
‘Yes sir?’ questioned the man as he arrived.
‘Waiter, this egg is awful’ explained Barry.
‘Well don’t blame me sir’ replied the waiter, ‘I only laid the table.’
Barry gave him a dirty look before proceeding with his complaints. ‘On top of that, there is a fly in my soup!’
‘Oh, don’t worry sir, the spider in your salad will get it!’ smiled the waiter as Barry quickly checked to see if he were been serious.
‘I’m joking sir’ grinned the waiter.
‘I don’t think you quite understand the situation’ grunted Barry. ‘There is a fly in my soup!’
‘If you like I can arrange for you to have a bigger one’ suggested the waiter.
‘No, I don’t want a bigger one’ shot back Barry angrily. ‘I already have one and I am telling you I did not order it!’
‘Please sir be quiet, or else everyone else will want one’ said the waiter as a man who happened to resemble a garden toad sitting near Barry’s table looked at his order and noted to the waiter ‘I’ll have what he’s having.’
The waiter beside Barry appeared to look a little upset as he continued on. ‘At least the hot water killed the fly. It could be a whole lot worse; it could still be swimming.’
‘Don’t you understand what is happening here you temperamental twit?’ cried Barry, beginning to attract some unnecessary attention. ‘I wish to talk to the owner, immediately!’
The waiter nodded as he began to escort Barry in the direction of the kitchens, making his way past the cooks who each eyed him dangerously before reaching a young woman in a gray uniform at the far end who was talking to the head chef. She turned to Barry as he arrived, her dark hair flying across her face before smiling.
‘You must be Barry Bardronsky’ she said. ‘I was just about to come out and talk to you.’
‘Yes’ nodded Barry, ‘well there’s no need now, is there? As for why I am here, I think it is plainly obvious. I’m looking for the ring leader of this circus.’
‘Well you found her’ smiled the woman. ‘Abigail’s the name and cooking’s the game.’
‘Good’ nodded Barry with a nod of his head whilst pointing at her with his finger before noting, ‘great slogan too. Is there somewhere we could talk in private?’
‘Right this way’ nodded Abigail as she escorted Barry into an office at the back of the restaurant that was incredibly small and compact, Abigail seating herself in a small chair behind an even smaller desk.
‘You know’ commented Barry. ‘I’ve seen mental asylums saner than this dive. I can see you have a real handle on things here.’
‘Do you have an actual complaint you would wish to bring to my attention?’ questioned Abigail bleakly. ‘Or did you just come here to bitch?’
‘Is it just me, or do you and your little gang of nitwits enjoy getting everything purposefully wrong?’ cried out Barry. ‘I mean, what is wrong with you people? I mean, do you have any endeavours to do apart from live and die in this rotten restaurant? What do you wish to be when you’re older?’
‘A weather girl’ stated Abigail.
Barry threw his arms in the air. ‘What can I say to that? This place is filled with the most incompetent ignoramuses I have ever had the incredible misfortune to meet in my entire life!’
‘Well, you would know, wouldn’t you’ commented Abigail. ‘You know, a little bird told me you were an ass. I didn’t actually listen to her at the time, but don’t worry, I shot the little bugger before the news spread any further.’
‘I can’t take anymore of this utter rubbish’ grunted Barry as he began to leave the office.
‘It’s such a shame that you’re leaving us’ said Abigail, shaking her head with a laugh.
‘Yeah, I’m grief stricken too’ retorted Barry. ‘Especially since I won’t be able to see you go through puberty.’
‘Tell me Mr. Bardronsky, before you leave’ began Abigail. ‘You have quite a stomach on you, along with an appetite for been a total arsehole. Has anyone ever told you that you should work out?’
‘Work out?’ asked Barry with a snigger. ‘You see this?’ he laughed, bringing his hand up to his mouth. ‘I’m working out every time I bring the fork up to my mouth’ he said before leaving.
Abigail shook her head before sighing. ‘Idiot!’ she whispered.
‘I heard that!’ cried out Barry as he exited through the kitchens and back through the restaurant, grabbing his plush teddy bear before making his way to the exit. ‘Come on’ he grunted as he grabbed the teddy by the arm, the chair he had been seated in falling to one side with a loud clunk. ‘We’re leaving’ Barry hissed once more as he continued to head in the direction of the entrance.
Whatever the case, Barry was certain that by this time next week, the Overboard would be no more. His column in tomorrow’s paper would easily attest to that. It was true what they said – revenge was a dish best served cold.