Miss Murder (2 page)

She opened the suitcase on the floor beside Jake and tried to lift him. His cold body was much heavier than she ever remembered him being. Blood smeared down her arms and front. He was too heavy. Too heavy. She dropped him again and he splattered his own blood across the tiles. She resisted the urge to run back to the bathroom for a shower. She looked at the case. The blood would spread through it and ruin it.

She searched through the kitchen drawers for bin bags and carefully lined the case with them, bag after bag, layer after layer, again and again. Satisfied, she looked at Jake. She would start with the legs. They lifted into the bag surprisingly easily, although as she moved his limbs she noticed a wet, brownish pool in the blood and the stench of feces. She had to persevere. Using his knees as a lever, she managed to lift his hip up and into the bag. His lower portions occupied most of it. She carefully rearranged and bent his legs until there was more room. Then she moved to his shoulders and forced his back into the case. She curled him over himself and wedged his arms in as best she could.

Layering more towels and plastic bags over his body, she covered his face last of all before zipping up the case. It would have to stay there for now. It was heavy. She was tired. She glanced at the massive stain on the floor. And she had work to do.

She knew that piles of bloody paper towels in their tiny apartment bin would raise suspicion. So she gathered all but one of the remaining dark towels and a few dark bedsheets and used them to soak the blood up. After half an hour, she passed the last clean bed sheet over the floor. It was sparkling. They were all thrown in the bathtub and she put the shower on full, undressing before throwing her clothes into the pile and stepping in with a bottle of detergent.

Under the scalding hot shower, she scrubbed at each item until the water ran clear off it. Then, she put them into a pile to take to the washing machine. By the end her hands were sore and red again and she could hardly stand, she was so sick, aching and shaky. She wobbled to her feet under the shower head and meticulously scrubbed every inch of her skin clean before stepping out and wrapping herself in the last dark brown towel.

Once the laundry was on she felt much better. She looked from the bathroom to the kitchen and found no specks of blood from the dirty sheets and towels. She checked the kitchen and the sight of the suitcase reassured her. She picked up the knife from the floor and rinsed it under the hot tap before mopping the floor with scalding water from the kettle and making herself a cup of tea with what was left. She nodded to herself as she looked over the kitchen floor, hearing the washing machine hum in the background.

Looking at the clock, she saw it was half past ten already. Where did the time go?

She took her tea with her into the bedroom, roughly dried her hair with the towel, and got into bed. Turning off the light, she curled up tightly on her side of the bed, as far from Jake's side as she could get, and cried herself to sleep.

The next morning she could hardly move. It all felt like a bad dream and she was hoping to roll over and see Jake asleep next to her. But she was scared of not finding him there. Or of finding him there, dead and unmoving. So she lay on her side of the bed, the alarm on her phone screaming at her, louder each time. She could have sworn she felt movement on the other side of the bed and it made her curl up tighter.

As the light between the curtains grew brighter, so did her courage. She rolled over, bracing herself for whatever she might find there... Nothing. The bed was empty besides her. His side was undisturbed. She breathed a sigh of half relief and glanced from her  tea, to his empty bedside table, to the time on her still screaming phone. She had fifteen minutes to make it to work on time. Fifteen minutes to check the laundry, the bathroom and the kitchen again, get dressed, grab her things and go to work.

“Come on Anna, we have to get back to normal.”
She told herself. She stood up and turned her alarm off. She swallowed the bitter, cold tea from her bedside table, down to the lime scaled dregs.
“I'll get dressed and ready first.”
She told herself, reaching for her clothes. But of course they were in the laundry. She went to the wardrobe and tried to ignore Jake's coats as she grabbed herself a new dress and blouse. She got dressed first, then went to the bathroom to brush her teeth, do her hair and put on her make-up. It looked bare. Too bare. Of course it did. All the towels were in the washing machine or the laundry pile. She would have to do more laundry when she got back.

The living room was harder than she'd thought. He had apparently put a game on last night and it was there, still on pause, some character stood there waving a sword in the same motion over and over. The controller rested on the table. The remote on Jake's favourite sofa pillow, which was next to the neat pile of yesterday's work clothes and the not so neat pile of unopened mail. Anna moved to turn the TV off. It was hard. But it felt better once it was done. She walked past the kitchen, not looking in, as she collected her shoes from the hallway and slipped into them.

For a moment she struggled with the choices of going into work without looking at the kitchen, or checking, just to make sure it wasn't all a dream. But it wasn't a dream, and as the image of Jake's corpse folded up in that suitcase brought tears to her eyes, she realized that if she was going to make it through the day she would have to wait to see him again.

She grabbed her handbag and her keys. But she would see him again. Just once more. She would unzip him and look at him once more before she worked out where to bury him.

On the drive into work she felt strangely collected, calm, together. Was it really this easy? She hadn't wanted to, hadn't intended to, but was it really this easy to kill someone? Was she really going to get away with it? In the books they talked about the guilt and that feeling that someone somewhere knew. But nobody knew. There had been no screams, no row. The neighbours would have barely heard them talking. She had raised her voice a bit near the end, but nothing else. And he died so soon when the knife pierced him. She hadn't even screamed after that, she hadn't had the energy.

The people at work would be expecting him. They may call her when he didn't answer his phone. But she could say something... anything. What could she say? He had gone to work? No, that would be too obvious. Someone could easily disprove that, especially as his car was in the drive. She could say they had an argument and he went for a walk. That she had noticed the car was still there and assumed he was staying with a girlfriend. After all, everyone knew he had girlfriends, right?

When she got to work and went to put the kettle on, she saw her hands were, in fact, shaking. When had this started? They weren't like that in the car...

“Good morning Anna.”

Anna jumped and turned to see Tina. She must have stared, because Tina looked startled herself.

“What's the matter?” Tina asked.

“You're early.” Anna improvised.

Tina burst out laughing. “Can't I be here on time for once?”

Anna shook her head. “No, it's good. Coffee?”

Tina nodded and unpacked her bag. “Why are your hands so shaky?”

“The shock of having someone other than me in here.”

“What did you think it was? A ghost?” Tina laughed some more.

Anna froze again. No, of course not... She sighed and tried to steady her hands as she made the coffees.

“Something's different.” Tina said as Anna handed her the coffee.

“No, it's the usual blend.”

“I mean with you.” Tina looked Anna square in the eye.

Anna shrugged, looked to her feet, then back up. She had to come up with something... anything... or at least use the planned argument. What was it? She sighed. “I think Jake left me.”

“Oh my God, no.” Tina put her coffee down. “How? Why?”

“Well, I asked him to wear the ring, we argued, he said he wanted more freedom in a relationship and he left. Normally he goes for a walk, but he wasn't back this morning. He's probably with that girl.” Anna sighed again.

“You'll be fine without him. You two were pretty independent anyway, right?”

Anna nodded. “Yeah, to be honest I'm glad.” Was she really glad? That he was gone? Yes. That he was dead? Maybe. No, she couldn't be. She shook her head and sighed again. “I'll manage.”

“Attagirl.”

The rest of the work day wasn't so bad. Nobody called her from Jake's work in the end. And she didn't have anyone guessing Jake was dead. She just didn't talk about him and felt her hands go shaky now and again. But other than that it was fine. Even the drive home went as usual.

It was on the way up the stairs that she felt nervous again. Like she would open the door and see him staring at the TV screen again in his boxers. She unlocked the door and walked in. The apartment was dark and empty. Impulsively, she put on every light in the house. It felt cold too. She put the heating on before having a look inside the kitchen. The case was still there. Tentatively, she shoved it aside. No marks or stains under it. No blood dripping out of the edges. Just the case resting in the middle of the floor. She couldn't even smell anything. It was a pity to open it back up. But she opened it anyway. She unzipped the case and flung the lid over. The smell hit her hard in the face. It smelled of a butcher's shop in a public rest-room. She looked at the towel that covered his face. She peeled it back.

His skin had lost every drop of colour, even his lips, even his under eye purple bags. It was paler than she had ever seen anyone. Even when people were very ill, they had some blood flow deep under the skin that made them look pinkish or grey. He looked like someone had stretched translucent white silk over something faintly blue and grey. There was no warmth to his colour at all. His hairs looked like they were drawn on his face and head with black marker. His lips had pulled back from his teeth and his eyelids had opened slightly, revealing not just the white, but some of the coloured iris and black pupil as well. His teeth and tongue, faintly visible between the stretched lips, looked bone dry.

Anna retched and ran to the bathroom, flinging herself over the edge of the toilet bowl where she heaved until she brought up yellow bile. Whatever had gone in that day was coming out. She dried her face with some tissue and flushed it. She would have to go back to the case. She would have to cover his face again and zip him up. She drew a deep breath and wandered into the kitchen again. Strangely, the smell was hardly present. She knelt down beside the case and reached for the towel.

“You know, I really wish you wouldn't do that.” Jake said.

Anna froze, the towel slipping through her fingers and landing on his face.

“Oh great, more humiliation. As if sitting in a travel case in my own shit wasn't enough.” Jake continued. The towel over his face didn't move and the voice wasn't muffled by the fabric.

Anna slowly lifted it off him again.

“That's better.” Jake said as his now open eyes were revealed. The face didn't move.

“You're alive? Oh my God, I'm so sorry, I thought I'd killed you.” Anna gasped, touching his face. It was ice cold.

“You did. Fucking idiot. Why would you shove someone in the kidneys before checking your hands?”

“I'm sorry, I- I... I'm going mad.” Anna said to herself. She dragged the towel over Jake's face again, closed the case and made her way into the living room, where she curled up on the sofa. The silence was blissful, but short.

“You're not going mad, ya know? Well, you are, but you can't leave me here. I mean, I might not be alive, but I'm still your boyfriend. Unless that whole knife to the guts thing was a breakup.” His voice came through as loud and as clear as if he were sitting next to her.

“You're not real.” She replied.

“Of course I am. Come back in. Have a look.”

“No,
you're
not. The voice. It isn't real.” Anna contested.

“I'm here, aren't I? Look, can we have this argument when I'm not sitting in my own shit? This isn't dignified, Anna. At least get me a shower, put me in some nice clothes and swap these plastics out before you lock me away.”