How Not To Commit Murder - comedy crime - humorous mystery (19 page)

‘Thanks, but I’m not hungry,’ he said. Nachos was usually one of his favourite meals but the spicy, cheesy aroma was making him nauseous. Or maybe it was the company. What was he, Reuben Littlejohn, doing here, plotting and planning with these cold-blooded killers?

‘So, down to business,’ Frank said, mopping sauce from his chin. He looked at Bomber. ‘She drives a Mazda 2.’

Bomber nodded. ‘Mazda’s easy.’

‘The plan is this,’ Frank said. ‘Bomber will plant an explosive in her car. When she turns on the ignition…’

He stopped for dramatic effect, undoubtedly relishing the vision of Lucy and her car being blown to smithereens. A spasm shot through Reuben, chilling him to his core.

‘Bomber will have to leave the country immediately; that’s why the timing is crucial.’

‘How’s he going to do that without being caught?’ Reuben said. ‘The minute the police find out, they’ll have the airports on alert.’

‘Who said anything about airports?’ Frank said.

‘Right on,’ Bomber said. ‘I hate flying - stuck-up hosties, screaming babies, and then you get some fat-arsed chick next to you who’s always elbowing you. You can’t even take a razor on board to have a shave and make yourself nice for the missus.’

He gave a self-mocking grin, exposing nicotine-stained teeth to match his fingers.

‘How are you going to leave?’ Reuben said. ‘Swim?’

‘Cruising. Much more relaxing, just miles of ocean, and as much as I can eat and drink.’ He grinned again at Reuben’s expression. ‘I have a mate in the merchant navy. That’s all I’m saying.’

‘Just one question,’ Reuben said. ‘Why is all this necessary?’

‘What do you mean?’ Frank said.

‘All this planning and subterfuge … why don’t you just hire someone to shoot her or do a hit and run?’

Frank shot a look at Bomber and let out a guffaw. ‘I think you’ve been watching too many cop shows. What do you think this is,
Underbelly
?’

He glanced over to where Gunther was setting up tables and said in a low voice, ‘I’ll let you in on a secret. When you’re at the top, there are very few people you can trust. There’s always someone waiting in the wings to stab you in the back – literally. I’ve been fucked over before and it’s not going to happen again. Bomber and I go back a long way and he wouldn’t do the dirty on me because I know too much.’ He waved a loaded corn chip at Bomber. ‘Isn’t that right, mate?’

Bomber waved a bigger one back at him, his corn chip buckling under the weight. ‘You bet,’ he grinned. ‘And vice versa.’

‘We keep each other honest,’ Frank said. ‘As for you, Littledick, you’ve got your hot little wife to keep you honest – nothing more off-putting than a cold corpse. Not that I’m speaking from experience, though the old girl does a good imitation of one when she’s not in the mood.’

‘I can always get them in the mood,’ Bomber said. ‘Amazing what a bit of mull can do.’

‘Thanks for that tip, Dr Ruth,’ Frank said. He looked at Reuben. ‘Plus, the cops will have no reason to suspect you and Bomber will be out of the country before you can say “Lucy Loose Lips.”’

He gestured to Gunther to bring more drinks. The restaurant was starting to fill up. ‘We need a time and place that’s fool-proof. Looks like home’s out, unless we can catch her by herself, which doesn’t sound likely.’

So he had a heart. He was prepared to spare the husband and child.

Frank picked up the photos and flipped through them again. ‘What about the car parks at some of these classes? Any of them in a secluded area where we could fix the car without being seen?’

‘Not really,’ Reuben said. ‘They’ve all got open-air parking which is pretty exposed.’

Thank God. Maybe that would put him off the car-bombing idea.

‘Don’t forget it’ll be at night,’ Bomber said, ‘and I only need ten minutes.’

‘Too risky,’ said Frank. ‘A lot can happen in ten minutes.’

‘I could do Breakdown Bob,’ Bomber said.

‘Go on,’ Frank said.

‘Bob’s Breakdown Service – spray painted van, overalls, it will look like it’s his car that’s broken down,’ he nodded at Reuben, ‘and I’m fixing it.’

‘Wait a minute,’ Reuben said, ‘Who said anything about me being there?’

‘Of course you’re going to be there,’ Frank said. ‘Bomber can’t do it on his own.’

Reuben opened his mouth then closed it. There was no point in arguing. He had no choice. Promoted from stalker to accomplice. What was the legal term? Accessory after the fact. The upside was that no matter which night and venue they chose, Lucy wouldn’t be there. The downside was explaining it to Frank.

‘That’s settled then,’ Frank said. ‘Breakdown Bob it is. When’s the ship sail?’ he asked Bomber.

‘There’s one going Thursday next week.’

‘Perfect!’ Frank said. ‘We’ll do it the night before when she’s at pole dancing. She’ll be all wet and slippery, thinking about sliding up and down hubby’s pole when she gets home, then kaboom! Lucy in the sky, but no diamonds!’

Reuben’s stomach parachuted to his feet. Next week! He wasn’t ready for this. Couldn’t they put it off a bit longer?

‘Can you get Breakdown Bob organised by then?’ Frank asked.

Bomber looked doubtful. ‘I’ll need extra cash. My mate who does the van will charge me double to have it done by next week, same for the tools. Express service surcharge, he calls it. And the old lady’s been on at me for ages about getting her hair done.’

Frank took out his wallet, slipped out a bundle of fifties and thrust them at Bomber. ‘I don’t remember paying for her hairdos being part of the deal.’

‘It was in the fine print,’ Bomber said, pocketing the cash, ‘and you can’t expect me to do my best work with her nagging me all the time.’

‘Bomber’s a good, clean-living bloke,’ Frank said. ‘Lives with his mum who thinks he works in the mines, and takes him to church every Sunday.’

‘Not so clean-living,’ said Bomber. ‘Those mines are pretty dirty.’

‘Not as dirty as those sheilas you hang out with,’ Frank said.

Frank looked at Lucy’s schedule again. ‘The classes start at 6.30. Allowing for latecomers, you should be at the car park at 6.45. The address is corner of Benson and Wyatt Streets, Chermside. Correct, Littledick?’

Reuben nodded. ‘Commonwealth Bank Building.’

‘I’ll find it,’ Bomber said.

Frank dug into his jacket pockets, produced two mobile phones and handed them one each.

‘Phone me Tuesday night to confirm it’s all good to go. From now, all your contact with me will be with these phones. You’re to get rid of them as soon it’s done. Littledick, I’ve put your number in Bomber’s phone and vice versa. False names, of course. Tom and Jerry.’

Bomber grinned. ‘Good one.’

‘One other thing – that phone stays with you at all times. You don’t want nosy wives or mothers getting hold of them.’

‘No chance of that,’ Reuben said. ‘There’s no way I’d want anyone knowing I’ve only got one friend.’

‘Gunther, more beer!’ Frank shouted.

‘No more for me,’ Reuben said. ‘I have to go.’

‘That’s right, better get back to wifey – you don’t want to miss out on a bit of pussy.’

Reuben didn’t bother to reply.

***

As he opened the front door, the aroma of roast lamb wafted towards him. Domesticity wasn’t so bad when you could come home to a beautiful woman and roast lamb. Even if the woman wasn’t the girl of your dreams, there was always the lamb – with a glass of red.

Carlene was transferring the lamb from the baking dish to the carving board. Reuben put his arms round her waist and kissed her cheek. ‘Here, let me do that.’

‘Thanks. How was Finn?’

It was a casual enough question but he sensed undertones. Or was that just his guilty conscience?

‘Oh, you know, the usual. He’s still depressed but hanging in there.’

‘Is he seeing a counsellor?’

‘Er ... I don’t know.’

‘He’s lucky to have you to talk to.’

He stole a glance at her as she lit the candle on the dining table, but there was no hint of sarcasm.

‘I suppose so. That’s what friends are for. I’m sure he’d do the same for me.’

‘Not that I’m thinking of getting a divorce,’ he added hastily.

‘I should hope not.’

They sat down to eat and Reuben poured the wine. ‘This is very romantic.’

Carlene gave him a provocative look over the flickering candle. ‘It’s a full moon tonight. And my stars said my evening would be full of romance.’

He put his hand over hers. ‘What a coincidence! Mine said the very same thing.’

Carlene smiled. ‘Liar.’

A few minutes later, she put down her knife and fork. ‘I’ve been thinking.’

The three words every man dreaded hearing. It was shorthand for: ‘I’ve come to a decision, which it would be in your best interests to agree with.’

‘What about?’ Reuben asked. There was no way you could avoid asking the question. You could pretend to take the statement on face value that your loved one was simply keeping you informed of her cognitive processes, and move on to the next subject. He’d tried it a couple of times in past relationships, with a resounding lack of success.

‘Children. What do you think about them?’

‘They’re a rude, sticky-fingered species that should be taken with a grain of salt and served up with plenty of butter.’

‘Rubie! You know what I mean. Us having them.’

‘I haven’t thought about it. I don’t think we should rush into it at this stage. Besides,’ he nodded in the direction of the photos of Kiet, Sahra and Ali on the fridge, ‘we already have three kids.’

‘Please be serious!’ She took his hand. ‘The other night when I was lying in bed, you know what I heard?’

‘Me snoring?’

‘Besides that.’ She began to stroke his fingers. ‘I heard the ticking of my biological clock.’

‘Honey, you’re only thirty-one, I don’t think the alarm is going to go off just yet.’

‘How do you know? One of us might be infertile. Or both of us. You don’t know until you start trying.’

‘That’s true. But I think we should wait until we’re a bit more settled.’

She stopped stroking. ‘You mean until you get a proper job.’

‘Yes, amongst other things.’

‘What other things?’

‘Well … get used to married life, give us a chance to have some time together, just the two of us.’

She studied his face.

‘You don’t want to have kids, do you? You may as well tell the truth, I can see it in your eyes.’

‘It’s not the truth at all. I just haven’t given it much thought. You have to admit, Indya and Brayden aren’t the greatest advertisement for the joys of family life.’

‘It doesn’t mean our kids would be anything like them. I know Jo spoils them but I’ve seen a lot worse.’

Reuben sighed inwardly. He sensed Carlene was steering the conversation into deep waters in which he would find himself floundering.

‘I’m sorry, honey, could we discuss this another time? I’m too tired to think at the moment.’

Carlene gave him a resigned look. ‘All right. But we shouldn’t leave it too long. It took Jo two years to fall pregnant with Indya.’

They had another glass of wine and retired to the couch. Carleen became giggly and amorous, and peeled off his shirt and jeans. They made love on the couch, moved to the floor and finished it off in the bedroom. While his body was going through the motions, his mind was filled with visions of Frank’s reaction when he learned that Lucy hadn’t turned up for her pole dancing class. So she was sick, or had another more important commitment. No reason to be suspicious; just bad luck. Of course Frank would see it that way.

If Carlene noticed that his mind wasn’t on the job, she didn’t comment. They snuggled up in the afterglow and she was snoring within minutes, her arm and leg flung over him. Reuben lay awake staring into the darkness, the cloud of foreboding still hovering over him.

CHAPTER 16

Reuben quickly got into the routine of making sure he finished his work by three o’clock, even if it meant skipping lunch, so he could be out the door right on the dot before Joe could find him extra work. He had no desire to be there for a moment longer than he had to.

As he stood in the car park strapping on his helmet, Joe appeared at the back door of the kitchen with a bag of rubbish. He looked from Reuben back to the Barbiemobile with growing incredulity. He walked over, still holding the rubbish.

‘Hey, boy! You borrowed that from your wife?’

‘No, it’s mine.’

‘You’re not serious?’

‘I’m afraid so.’

He chuckled. The chuckle gained momentum and became a guffaw, which then turned into a belly laugh that echoed around the car park. Two women walking past turned and stared, and a flock of sparrows pecking on the ground nearby took off in startled flight.

‘It’s not my first choice of vehicle,’ Reuben said. ‘I won it in a church raffle.’

Joe stopped and looked at him, then threw back his head in another round of laughter. ‘That’s a good one. Boy, you kill me!’

If only
. Reuben started the Barbiemobile and zoomed away, leaving Joe staring after him, holding the rubbish bag with one hand and his quivering belly with the other.

He’d been calling Posie every week as he’d vowed, and this morning she’d trilled, ‘Reuben! Lovely to hear from you!’ as if it hadn’t been just a few days since she’d spoken to him. ‘As a matter of fact, I do have a job for you. Come in and see me ASAP.’

When he arrived, the receptionist was tapping out a message on her iPhone while talking on the office phone. She looked up briefly and motioned for him to go through. Posie was also on the phone; a Tupperware container of chopped carrot and celery in front of her. She motioned for Reuben to sit down and held out the container of vegetables. Reuben shook his head.

‘Okey-dokey, Simon, will do.’ She put the receiver down. ‘Simon’s in LA talking to Guy Pearce,’ she said breathlessly.

‘Really?’ Reuben said. ‘What about?’

She put her finger to her lips. ‘Top secret,’ she whispered.

She straightened up and put on a business-like demeanour. ‘Did you like the photos?’

‘They’re okay.’

She pointed a disapproving fingernail at him. ‘You’re too modest. This job I have for you is the chance of a lifetime.’