The Slut in Room 101

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She grinned and winked at me. "I may be a little older than you, sugar, but I haven't forgotten all the tricks I've learned over the years."

She reached over and grabbed a couple of cocktail napkins which she handed to me to clean myself up. After she did the same to herself, she got up and mixed herself another drink. "Want one now?" she asked me.

"No," I said, "I need to get back ho . . . um, to the station."

She looked at me lazily as I pulled up my pants and zipped myself. "That was a lot of fun," she said. "We oughta do that again, uh . . . Hey, what did you say your name was?"

I was getting nervous now. "I didn't say," I said as I started for the door.

"Oh," she said unconcernedly. "Well, anyway, call me."

With that I slipped out the door and hurried to my car. As I drove away, I felt satisfied by the unexpected interlude I'd enjoyed, but my mood quickly darkened as I thought about everything she'd told me before she jumped my bones.

If Dr. Fisher really was such a cheater, he very well could have been the victim of a jealous husband other than me. That seemed like a promising avenue to investigate: there might be several guys with a motive. But how in the hell was I going to investigate them when I didn't know who the doc's other lovers were? For that matter, the more potential suspects there were, the harder it was going to be for me to narrow them down.

Then I thought about Mrs. Fisher. Although I had found her to be a skilled and enthusiastic lover, I couldn't help wondering if she might also be a cold-blooded killer. If she'd seen the email invitation to her husband to come to the motel, she could have waited until Billy and me left, then sneaked in and gotten her revenge. Doing it that way would have set the two of us up to take the fall while she inherited her husband's property. I had to admit: that would have been pretty slick - if she was indeed the killer.

But if she had killed her husband, why would she blurt out her motive to a "detective"? That seemed like a really dumb thing to do. "But what if she's more devious than she seems? What if she deliberately revealed the information about the prenup to throw me off the track?" For that matter, was she really just a horny widow or had she screwed me to distract me? The more I thought about everything, the more my head started to hurt. Thank goodness it was time to meet up with Billy. I needed someone to talk to about all this.

Over a cold one I told Billy what I'd learned from Mrs. Fisher. "My problem," I told him, "is that now I have more potential suspects than I know what to do with. How am I ever going to find the real killer?"

"Well," Billy opined, "if you did know who it was, I bet you could make a bunch of money."

I looked at him in confusion. "What are you talking about, Billy?"

"It's simple," he said, "I bet the real killer would pay you almost anything to keep you from telling the police."

"That's blackmail, Billy. We've got enough problems on our hands without a blackmail charge."

"Oh, right."

But instead of getting exasperated with Billy, I started thinking about his suggestion. "Wait a minute," I said, "maybe that's not such a bad idea after all."

"Hunh?"

"I saw it on a TV show once. All we have to do is get the word out that we know who did the dirty deed and we want some money to keep quiet about it. Then when somebody shows up to make a deal, we've got the real killer!"

"Wow!" Billy said, "that's real smart, Johnny." Then his grin faded. "But how are you going to get the word out to the killer when you don't even know who he is?"

"I think I know a way," I said smugly. "How did the killer know we were gonna meet up with Dr. Fisher at the motel in the first place? The way I figure it, he - or she," I said, thinking of Mrs. Fisher, "must have seen the fake email I sent from Doris's account. So we just send out another one the same way and see who takes the bait!"

"But how's Dr. Fisher gonna get the email, Johnny? He's dead!"

I sighed. "I know Dr. Fisher's dead, Billy, but his murderer isn't, and he's the one we want. He'll see the new email the same way he got the old one, and when he shows up, we'll nab him."

"You're a genius," Billy complimented me, and this time I had to agree with him.

I decided to put my plan in motion right away. On the way home from the bar I stopped by the ATM to pick up some cash. Then I drove to the motel and booked a room for two days. The desk clerk was a bored teenager who was so intent on watching TV he hardly looked at me. On a whim I decided to ask for room 101 again. "That'll put a shiver through the killer when he sees that," I chuckled to myself.

The next morning I got up extra early so I could send out my message from Doris's machine before she woke up. I'd spent quite a while composing it the night before, and I was pretty proud of the job I'd done.

I know who you are and I know what you did to that "slut" Fisher. If you don't want me to go to the police you'd better come to the same room in the same motel where Dr. Fisher died. Be there at 2:00 p.m. tomorrow afternoon and bring $20,000 in cash with you - or else!"

"That ought to do it," I thought. I hit send and then made sure to delete the Sent message from Doris's computer, just like last time. "The trap is set," I told myself, "now let's see who takes the bait."

I went off to work like always, but it was hard to keep my focus. I kept wondering who would show up at that motel room tomorrow. I realized I might not even know the person, especially if he was one of the angry husbands.

By the time I got off from work and went to the bar, I was dying to discuss everything with Billy and get his reaction. But Billy wasn't there, and although I waited almost an hour he never showed. That made me really nervous. Billy was always up for a beer - what could have happened to him? As I drove home, my paranoia kept growing. What if the police had picked Billy up? What if he was telling them everything we had done at that very moment? What if they were waiting at my house to arrest me? I was so caught up in my fears that I got all the way home before I even realized where I was. Fortunately there was no one waiting for me there; even Doris hadn't gotten home yet.

Only a few minutes later I heard Doris drive up, and by the time she walked into the house I had my loving husband face on for her. But it wouldn't have mattered how I looked because she was all agog. "You'll never guess what happened today," she said excitedly. "Your friend Billy is a fugitive from the law."

I thought my heart would stop then, but Doris didn't even notice. "He and Phyllis got into a big fight and he gave her a black eye. She called the cops and he took off for parts unknown."

"Omigod," I thought, "if they catch him and start questioning him about Dr. Fisher, our goose is cooked!" But Doris kept prattling on about the situation and didn't pick up on my panic.

To try to cover my emotions I pretended to be interested in what she was saying. "Why were they fighting, anyway?" I asked when I got a chance to get a word in edgewise.

"The girls at the gym told me Billy thought Phyllis was cheating on him," she said, and I mentally shook my head in dismay. "Aren't there any faithful wives left anymore?" I wondered. That thought rekindled all my anger at Doris, and I said nastily, "Well, if she was cheating, it serves her right."

I figured that Doris would jump all over me for that little comment, but she didn't respond. That just made me madder. "What a hypocrite!" I thought. "You're the biggest cheater I know, but if I raised a finger to you, you'd be screaming bloody murder." But for once I kept my thoughts to myself.

I didn't say much else to Doris over dinner, and afterwards I went off to the den to think about this latest development. Suddenly I had a horrifying thought: what if Billy was the killer? I remembered the folding knife he'd had with him when we tied up the doctor. What if Billy had sneaked back and finished off the doc after we'd left the motel because Phyllis had been cheating with him? I didn't want to believe it, but it all made sense in a horrid sort of way.

Then I had an even worse thought: what if Billy decided to show up at the motel tomorrow? I was bigger than him, but I wasn't sure I could take him in a fight, especially if he brought that folding knife. I decided I'd better take along some extra protection, so I went down in the basement and got my automatic out from where I stored it. I hadn't fired it in a long time, but I figured it was still okay.

The next morning I went off to work like normal, except that I had my pistol with me in the car. After lunch I told the manager that I needed to take off the rest of the afternoon. He didn't like it, but I'm one of his best salesmen so there wasn't much he could do.

I left the dealership and got to the motel over half an hour early. Slipping the pistol in the pocket of my coat jacket, I went to the room and let myself in with the card key. I almost locked the door behind me, but at the last minute I remembered that I wanted the killer to be able to get in, so I propped the door open with the latch. Then I settled myself in a chair and prepared to wait.

As I sat there, I looked around the room. It was obvious that they had installed new carpet. "I guess the old one had too much blood on it," I thought with a shudder. Even the chair I was seated in looked new, and I figured they'd had to swap it out too. Otherwise, everything looked the same as the last time I'd been here. That didn't make me any more comfortable.

I didn't really want to think about all that any more so I began going over my list of suspects. The first one had to be Mrs. Fisher. She had a whopper of a motive but it was hard for me to believe she was the one. After all, she'd put up with so much from her husband for so long. I couldn't see why she'd decide all of a sudden to do something so drastic. Still, I thought, maybe she just reached her breaking point. And don't forget, I told myself, she was also the one most likely to have access to Dr. Fisher's email.

Next came the husbands of the other women who'd been Dr. Fisher's lovers. I didn't know who they were or how many there might be, but one of them could be the violent type. Maybe he'd been stalking the doctor, waiting for the right moment. How he could have gotten access to the doctor's email I didn't know, but if he did he would have realized that we'd given him a golden opportunity for revenge.

Then I thought about Billy. I hoped with all my heart that it wasn't him, but I had to admit that he was a good suspect. I knew he had a temper and, if I were honest, he had a bit of a mean streak as well. I wouldn't have thought Billy could fool me, but maybe he was smarter than I'd realized. It seemed unlikely, but I couldn't rule it out.

Just then, I heard a sound in the hallway and I grabbed my gun. There was a creak as the door was pushed open and dim light from the hall seeped into the room. Then, to my amazement, I heard a voice calling, "Johnny? Johnny? Are you in there?"

"Doris!" I exclaimed in surprise. "What are you doing here?"

I reached over and flipped on the lights, only to see my loving wife walk into the room, shaking her head in disgust. "I'm here to stop you from doing something really stupid, Johnny," she said.

"But how did you know I'd be here?" I asked in confusion.

She crossed her arms and began to lecture me in that school-teacher tone of voice I hate. "When I got up yesterday morning, it was obvious that you'd been messing with my laptop. I checked my email, and at first I didn't find anything, but when I checked my Deleted Items, I found your stupid message."

"Damn!" I swore at myself. "I should have thought about that."

"There are a lot of things you should have thought about," she said irately. "Maybe if you hadn't dropped out of college . . ."

"Don't go giving me a hard time about that again," I barked angrily at her. "Besides I'm the one who's got a right to be upset, not you. You were cheating on me with your damned doctor friend. I caught you and now I'm going to divorce your ass!"

She made a gesture with her hand like she was shooing away a fly. "That's not important now. What's important is what you're doing here. Just exactly what did you hope to accomplish with that ridiculous email you sent from my account?"

I was pretty miffed at her casual dismissal of her cheating, but I felt like I had to defend myself nevertheless. So I began to explain how Billy and I had lured Dr. Fisher here to shame him, only to learn later that he'd been murdered. "We were afraid that the police would think we did it," I told her, "so I started trying to find the real killer." I told her how I pretended to be a detective to interview Mrs. Fisher, and how I'd come up with the idea of trying to lure the real killer here by pretending to be a blackmailer.

As she listened, Doris kept sighing. Finally she put her hand up to stop me. "Johnny, are you familiar with Alexander Pope?"

"No," I said, shaking my head, "I don't think I ever met him."

She rolled her eyes. "Mr. Pope once said, 'A little learning is a dangerous thing, drink deep, or taste not the Pierian spring.'"

"What's this Persian spring? What are you talking about, Doris?"

"Never mind, Johnny, you wouldn't understand," she said, shaking her head in disgust. She took a deep breath and put her hands on her hips, and I knew I was really in for it now.

"You were never the brightest bulb in the lamp, but this plan has to be the dimmest, dumbest thing I have ever heard. In the first place, Fisher is dead - why would anybody be checking the mailbox of a dead man? Why would they have access to it in the first place?"

"Well, they might have," I said defensively. "Anyway, I'll bet Mrs. Fisher had access to it."

"That lush?" Doris chortled. "She has a hard enough time finding her way to the scotch bottle, much less into her husband's email account."

"Well, none of that really matters anyway," I said hotly, "because I think the real killer still got the message."

"And just who is that, pray tell?" she asked sarcastically.

"As much as I hate to admit it, I think the real killer was Billy. I think he found out that Dr. Fisher was tapping Phyllis's ass. After he and I left Dr. Fisher here in the room, I think he came back and slit Fisher's throat. So I'm betting that Billy's gonna come walking through that door any minute, which is why you need to get the hell out of here right now!"

Doris reached into her purse, brought out a pair of surgical gloves and began to pull them on. I knew she always carried some because of her work with the drug company, but I couldn't figure out why she would need them now. Then she looked up at me. "I'm pretty sure Billy isn't going to come walking through that door any time soon because the police arrested him today. The idiot went to that same bar where you two hang out all the time and the police were waiting for him."

"Oh, wow!" I said in shock, "I hadn't heard that." Then I brightened. "But maybe that means he'll confess to the police and get me off the hook," I added hopefully.

Doris stared at me calmly. "Is that the pistol you keep down in the basement?" she asked.

"Um, yes it is," I said, caught by surprise.

"Can I see it?" she asked, holding out her hand.

"I guess, sure," I said, handing it to her.

She looked at it carefully, making sure it was loaded and cocked. Then she looked up at me. "Despite your theory, I don't think you need to worry about what Billy says to the police."

"Why not?" I asked.

"Because Billy didn't kill Morris Fisher," she said flatly.

"How do you know that?" I asked.

"Simple," she said, "because I'm the one who killed him."

"You?! Why would you kill him? You were in love with him," I almost shouted.

"That's right," she said bitterly. "I did love him, and he said he loved me too. He promised to take me away from you and your stupid friends. He was going to marry me and show me all the finer things in life. But then I found out he was also sleeping with Phyllis and that he didn't have the slightest intention of marrying me."

She began to pace back and forth, waving the pistol around to emphasize her words. "I didn't know what to do until I overheard your phone call with Billy about renting a motel room. When I found your first email, it was pretty easy to figure out your ridiculous plan to humiliate Morris. At first I was going to warn him, but then I realized the opportunity you'd given me to get rid of both of you. So I waited outside the motel until you and Billy left and then I slipped into the room. Morris was so relieved to see me that he almost wept. But when I told him that I'd found out about Phyllis, I could see the fear in his eyes. When I pulled out one of his own scalpels, he started trying to beg. And then he tried to scream as I cut the word "SLUT" into his cheating chest, but you can't scream very loud through duct tape. When I had finished marking him so all the world would see what he was, I yanked his head back and slashed both his jugular vein and carotid artery in a single stroke."

Even with all the gory details, her story still didn't make sense to me. "I can't believe you could do something like that," I protested. "Besides, you were sobbing and crying that night the news of his death came on TV."

"Haven't you learned by now that women can cry on demand when they need to?" she asked with a smirk. Then her eyes turned dark. "Haven't you ever read that 'Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned'?" Then she sneered, "Oh, wait, you probably haven't, since the only reading you do is the sports page."

She stopped her pacing abruptly and pointed the gun at me. "But for some reason those idiots on the police force haven't hauled you off to jail for Fisher's murder. And despite all your bumbling, you've gotten way too close to the truth for me to leave you alive. So I'm afraid I'm going to have to arrange for you to appear to die by your own hand. I'll make it look like you've committed suicide out of remorse in the very same room where Morris died. "I love the symmetry," she added with a sneer. "It's almost poetic."

I'd never seen Doris like this, and it was a pretty scary sight. Who would have believed she could turn into a stone-cold killer? And why oh why did I hand her my pistol? What a bonehead move! I had to try to talk her out of it. "Wait a minute, Doris" I shouted desperately, "you can't do this. One of the people who got that email I sent is going to walk through that door any minute!"

She laughed in my face. "That is a perfect example of why I have to do this: you are terminally stupid! Face it, Johnny, no one saw your ridiculous email and no one is coming to save your dumb ass."

"That's where you're wrong," said a voice from the doorway. "Drop that gun or you're a dead woman!"

Doris jerked her head around in astonishment to see Detective Monica Ferguson walk in with her gun leveled. Right behind her was a uniformed cop with his gun drawn as well. Doris hesitated, then with a curse she dropped her gun and all the fight seemed to drain out of her. She sank to her knees and began to sob, this time, I thought, for real.

Detective Ferguson looked over her shoulder at the officer and said, "Quick, get her gun and cuff her." The cop went over and kicked the pistol away, then quickly secured Doris's hands behind her back while the detective kept her covered. Only after he had finished did Monica relax and take a deep breath.

As for me, I was ready to collapse with relief. "Thank God you're here!" I babbled. "Another minute or two and I'd be dead!" Then I looked at her in sudden confusion. "Wait a minute - why are you here, anyway?"