Fashionably Late (For My Funeral) Pt. 03

8

James had responded to Melissa's phone call and rushed over to our apartment. "What do you mean he knows about us?"

Not for the first time they were locked in each other's embrace. They lay naked on the bed, the product of their love forgotten in a sticky puddle on the sheet. Melissa's head rested on James' shoulder and she idly played with his limp penis. The fingers of his left hand traced lazy circles around her erect right nipple. For both of them sex was an act that was not affected by any outside influence.

"Well he knows that I have been having an affair with someone and he suspects that it is with you."

"How can he know? We have been careful where and when we have been together?"

"We made one mistake. Do you remember the night that I let you make love to me without a condom? That night was enough for me to get pregnant."

"So? Weren't you trying to get pregnant? How do you know it was me?"

"Because he found out that he is sterile. He had tests done without telling me and when I broke the exciting news to him he was less than pleased. We had an argument about the money and he accused me of having an affair, I denied it of course. That was when he told me about the test, he even showed me the test report so that I was in no doubt that it was real."

"What happens now? I suppose that this has blown any chance that we had of him helping us get that money back."

"What about me? Do you realize that this could be the end of my career. One of my biggest clients is one of those fundamental Christian Churches that believes in fidelity and chastity. When they hear that I have been less than trustworthy in my marriage do you think that they will trust me with their business?"

"Forget your career! What about my money? If I don't get that back soon it will be the end of my career and I'll have nothing. Not only will I have nothing but I may not even have a life, then I won't be able to support you. We are in this together so you have to help me before I can help you."

There was not so much as a knock on the front door of the apartment, the door crashed into the room following the pressure from the size sixteen foot of the six foot nine, two hundred and eighty pound monster.

There was no need for the same pressure on the bedroom door. Three men walked into the room. James and Melissa sat up, scrabbling for the sheet to protect themselves from the gaze of the three men.

"Who, who are you?" Melissa stammered from behind the sheet, her eyes wide open in fear.

"Shut up lady. We are here to see your friend. James we have come for our money, where is it?" The first name terms used to address James belied the menace behind the voice and the glare from the man.

"I keep telling you I don't have it. That bastard Feldham double-crossed me and he still has it."

"There was nothing but old newspaper in the briefcase. He says that you didn't give the money to him. Now who are we to believe?"

"I'm telling you the truth! I don't have it! Tell them Melissa, tell them that I don't have it."

"That's right I tried to persuade my husband to give it back but he won't. He's the one that you should be looking for. I think that he has gone to be with that bitch he's been fucking in Hollywood, I've spoken to her and she has promised to let me know when he gets there."

"You're his lover," pointing to James, "and your husband has a lover, whatever happened to the sanctity of the marriage vows?"

"That's rich coming from someone with such little regard for the law." James wished he hadn't said that almost as soon as the words were out. It took a short time for the hand to push him in the face and for the back of his head to hit the wall behind him.

"Now let us get down to serious business. If you don't tell me where the money is your little friend here will suffer some severe pain." He walked over to the bed and pulled the sheet from it revealing the naked bodies of James and Melissa. Melissa tried to hide herself behind her hands with little success. She crossed her legs and folded her arms across her chest. The man who appeared to be in charge walked to the side of the bed, reached out and dragged Melissa to her feet. She tried once more to hide herself behind her hands, this time with even less affect.

The biggest of the men walked over and stood in front of her, his massive paw reached out and stroked her surprisingly gently on the breast, "Pretty, pretty." Melissa cringed back as far as she could which was as far as the wall and wasn't far enough. The paw continued stroking.

"James, do something!" Melissa made an ineffectual swipe at the massive hand.

"What am I supposed to do?"

"I don't know and I don't care! Just do something!"

"What are you going to do? Are you going to tell us where the money is?"

"I can't because I don't know."

"James, help me!"

"Sorry Darling I can't."

The big goon transferred his attention to her lower body, his hand exploring between her legs. "Pretty, pretty." His fingers had found their target and were exploring deeper into her body.

"Are you going to tell me where the money is or do I let him loose on your lover?"

"James! Please help me!" Melissa had moved along the wall and was backed into a corner, unable to move away from her assailant.

"I can't." His voice was little more than a whimper.

The leader of the group nodded to the big man, who needed no second invitation. He pushed Melissa to the floor and, pulling his trousers down placed himself over her.

"My God, no! You can't possibly expect to shove that monster into me!" Melissa was staring wide eyed at the huge penis that was being waved in front of her face. It hadn't reached its full size and yet it was bigger than anything she had ever seen.

The size of the penis waving inches from Melissa's face was the reason that this man was known as 'the horse'. It had been said that his size in centimeters is roughly the equivalent of his IQ which was a generous assessment of his IQ.

The Horse was born Luigi Costanzo, the son of one of Guido's cousins. It was an incestuous relationship between Maria and Luigi Senior. She was fourteen at the time that the thirteen year old Luigi had made love to her. He was big and she was keen and neither of them gave any thought to the consequences of their actions until her mother noticed that her periods hadn't arrived as expected.

At first she had refused to tell her parents who the father of her child was, but a mixture of coercion and punishment broke her resolve. Luigi senior was sent to the Miami branch of the family where it was hoped that he could be kept away from the family women. It was only by supplying an almost endless stream of prostitutes to satisfy his appetite that they were able to succeed in their mission.

Maria's parents explored the possibility of a quiet abortion so that their shame could be kept from the family and the local priest. She proved to be as stubborn and headstrong as they were and little Luigi arrived yelling and screaming into a world of hate and mistrust.

Maria was shunned by her family and had to resort to earning a living that also satisfied her own sexual appetite so that she could bring up her son on her own. The Costanzos made sure that she entered the control of the best of their pimps and was kept away from the heroin that many of their prostitutes used to deaden the sordid reality of their lives. This part was relatively easy because Maria embraced her career with enthusiasm and found pleasure in the tricks she turned.

Young Luigi showed no academic aptitude right through his school days and only graduated to high school at fourteen because he was getting too big for the grade school football team. In high school his success on the field was in direct contrast to his academic performance.

The rumors of his prodigious member reached the ears of one of the cheerleaders who had boasted to her friends that she had laid the whole senior offensive line-up after one memorable game. Luigi almost ended her career. She was admitted to hospital bleeding internally from her encounter with the young stallion and Maria was asked to remove her son from school and any situation where he could be tempted to repeat the episode. She reluctantly approached Guido Costanzo who took him into the family business as an apprentice stand-over man.

Luigi proved ideal for this task because he was able to carry out the job of beating up on those stupid enough to cross the Costanzos with ease and dispatch and didn't have the thinking power to question any order given. For his efforts he was paid a small salary and his living expenses were paid out of the family funds. He was also allowed to use any of the family whores who would allow him, few did and he had to resort to masturbation to fill the gap in his appetite.

The rape was brutal. He spread her legs apart and kneeled between them, all the time stroking his penis which was responding to his manipulation. The action of forcing it into her unprepared body was painful to her, he used no form of lubrication and she was dry from fear. Holding her hips, he rammed the full length of his massive cock into her, ignoring her cries until her sobbing ceased, at around the same time he flooded her with his huge load of cum. By the time he had finished Melissa lay unconscious and bleeding on the floor.

He got to his feet and wiped himself on Melissa's blouse before packing his huge penis back into his trousers.

"Now do get more co-operation from you?"

"I can't tell you any more because I don't know any more."

Luigi picked Melissa's unconscious body from the floor and carried her over to the balcony.

"What are you going to do to her?" James was concerned, a little.

"You should be worried about yourself, you don't seem to care much for her and because she means so little to you we didn't think that you'd mind if we disposed of her."

"But that's murder!"

"Is it? Oh well, if you say so." He nodded to Luigi and Melissa disappeared silently over the edge.

The second man, who had remained passive throughout the whole episode to date, produced an attaché case and placed it on the bed. From this he took a disassembled rifle, a ball of string and two rolls of gaffer tape. He put the rifle together with experienced ease and taped the barrel to the back of the armchair in which James sat. Pushing the chair closer to the wall he taped the stock to it so that it couldn't move. He then tied the string to the trigger and feeding it back through the sling mount, he draped it over the back of the chair. He tied the end of the string to James' thumb.

"Are you getting the picture? Neither of you are any use to us anymore. You can't or won't help us get our money back, either way you've outlived your usefulness, so we end it. The police will come and find that you have had an argument with your lover and pushed her over the balcony, then, in a fit of remorse, committed suicide by shooting yourself with this rifle."

"You can't do this!"

"We can and we will." He nodded to the second man who placed a full ammunition clip into the rifle. The man pulled the string and the full magazine and bits of James' head were splattered over the wall opposite.

The three men left the apartment.

9

Ruiz led the investigation into, firstly, Melissa's death. Her body had plunged through the canvas awning at the front of the building before smashing onto the pavement narrowly missing a couple walking their poodles. Their first instinct was to walk on and leave the job of reporting the incident to the next person to arrive. A passing taxi driver witnessed the happening and radioed his base and alerted the police.

Ruiz recognized Melissa from a photograph that I had shown him and entered the building. The security guard didn't like the look of the police as they approached.

"We would like to get into the Feldham's apartment."

"Can I ask why?"

"You can ask all you like, but one way or another we are going to get into that apartment. You can make it easy for us by giving us the key or you can make it hard on yourself by not giving us the key. Now what is it to be?"

He gave them the keys and they rode the elevator to the top floor. The mess that they walked in on was enough to turn the stomach of even the most hardened of police officer. "Nothing is to be touched, call Forensics, I want that blouse tested, DNA on any fluids, that patch on the sheets, I want it matched with DNA from him," pointing to James, "I want everything fingerprinted, a photographer and the meat wagon, tell them they'll need a shovel for this one." The orders shot around the room and the team reacted as they had been trained.

Ruiz took the elevator back to the ground floor and the security guard liked the situation even less when he asked to view the tapes from the surveillance cameras.

"Can anyone enter this building without being seen on these tapes?"

"No. All doors except the front door can only be opened from inside. We have cameras covering all doors including the basement car park access."

"May we look at the tapes?"

"Why?"

"I don't suppose that you happened to notice the people milling around outside?"

"Yes. I was curious but I can't leave my post."

"I wouldn't suggest that you do unless you've got a cast iron constitution, it's not a pretty sight. Now, can I have the tapes?"

The security guard was even less impressed when the tapes were replayed. The camera monitoring the fire door at the rear of the building was working all right but the tape was blank.

"You haven't noticed this?" Ruiz was getting just a little concerned.

"No. As you can see the monitor is working fine, I have no way of checking if the recorder is working from here. We apparently had some servicemen here earlier on today checking the cameras out so I didn't think it necessary to go to the office to check the tapes to see if they were working okay, I just took the word of the guy on duty before me that it was okay." He shoved the service log over the desk to Ruiz. "See, here is the service report and the signature of the duty guard. That tells me that the system was working when the serviceman left. We run regular checks but haven't checked it since it was serviced."

"The other guard, you know him?"

"Yes, he's been on this job for several years."

"I don't suppose that you know the name of the service company?"

"No the receipt is at our office."

Ruiz walked to the fire exit and wasn't surprised to find that there was no evidence of forced entry. He went back to the penthouse.

"Interesting." The finger print expert had just finished checking the rifle. "Someone has gone to a lot of effort to make this look as if it was a suicide and then wiped all the prints from the gun."

"So you don't think that it was a suicide?"

"I wouldn't bet on it, but I don't think it was?"

Ruiz looked closely at the corpse. "Now this is interesting too."

"What?"

"This is not the owner of this apartment. I know the owner and I will bet that this isn't him."

"Then who is it?"

"Too early to tell but I would guess that it's probably James Craigmore."

"What makes you say that?"

"I know that Feldham was acquainted with him, he has mentioned that he met him through his wife. Both of them are dead and Feldham is missing and this looks like something that a mystery writer could think up. I think I will have a little talk to our friend. I want an APB on Jason Feldham. I want him found and quickly before he has a chance to leave the city."

Ruiz wasn't to know then that I had left days before.

I tossed it over in my head whether to ring Felix and put him out of his misery or let him suffer. I drove back to the village and made three phone calls, two short and one long. The first of the two short calls were to Felix telling him that I was safe and would contact him soon, the second was to Ruiz telling him that I had nothing to do with either death.

Ruiz wanted me back in New York immediately so that my involvement could be cleared up. I wasn't so sure that it would be a good thing for me to be seen around town so I told him that I would write down everything that I knew and post it to him.

He wasn't pleased with that suggestion but, as I told him, I wasn't about to let him or anyone else know where I was for the time being.

The third and longer call was to Sendi. She was on location in Baja California. "Darling, how are you? I'm sorry it had to be me that broke the news to you like that but I thought that you might not want anyone to know where you are."

"Thank you for that. Look Honey, I need to see you, would it be safe for me to come to where you are now?"

"At the moment the media seem not to have linked me to you. The studio has told them that we were friends who got together for publicity purposes and nothing else. I don't know how long they will keep to that story, if they think that they can gain some publicity mileage from exploiting the situation it might be a different matter entirely."

"If I fly down to Tijuana can you arrange to meet me?"

"You didn't even need to ask, of course. Do you want me to make reservations for you at the same hotel that I'm in?"

"No. Do you think that you can rent me a house for a week?"

"You a house, you mean rent us a house don't you?"

"Look I'm sorry Darling but I think that your present arrangements should be kept to, that's not to say that you couldn't spend the nights with me, in fact I hope we can arrange that."

"So do I. Let me know when to expect you. I love you." She hung up and I drove back to the house to make arrangements to fly to Mexico. I would have to cover my trail pretty well because I got the feeling that James' partners wouldn't rest until they found me. I hope that Melissa hadn't mentioned Sendi to anyone.

Covering trails is something that my heroes never had any problem managing. In real life it was somewhat more difficult. I drove to Bar Harbor and checked into a motel telling the clerk that I would be staying around a week while I carried out some research and not to be too concerned if I hadn't used my room for a day or two. I left the renter in the car park and walked to the bus station where I caught a Greyhound bus south.

From New Orleans I mailed my letter to Ruiz, flew to Los Angeles where I rang Hertz and told them where they could pick up their car, rented another car and drove down the coast to Tijuana. After passing through the border checkpoint I stopped at a gas station and rang Sendi, telling her that I would meet her there rather than at the airport.

An hour later we were in a small cottage, in each other's arms. "It's great to see you, I've really missed you." That was about all that was said for at least an hour. We lay beside each other on the bed under the slow moving fan that was trying desperately to move air around and provide some cooling effect. It succeeded merely in upsetting the flies that were used to sitting on its blades.

"What are we going to do?" Sendi asked.

"The first thing that I'm going to do is to indulge in some unbridled lust for a week or two and then let the world know that we are madly in love and plan to marry."

"Be sensible." She was concerned for me and my attempt at levity wasn't helping.

"All right. I posted a letter from New Orleans to my friend Captain Ruiz in New York outlining what I knew about the operations and who I thought might have been responsible for the deaths. From what I gathered in the press the police are not convinced that either death was suicide. The forensic report showed that someone went to a lot of trouble to make James' death look like suicide. They used a semi-automatic rifle gaffer taped to the back of his chair. The butt was taped to the wall behind him so that the rifle wouldn't move when the trigger was pulled. They then attached a string to the trigger, ran it down the stock and through the sling mount at the base, it was then pulled forward and placed in his hand."