The Case of the Disappearing Dame

Then, I suddenly felt the blistering coolness of a hardened steel gun barrel slowly touching the back of my neck, as the hairs on the back of my head stood up, and a cold chill ever so slowly traversed all the way down my spine.

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As Robert Masterson slowly stepped backwards away from me, he kept the pistol pointed at the back of my head, as his tiny wimpish hand shook nervously. I quickly looked at Mary, ...and to my complete surprise, she had an unexpected big sheepish smile on her face.

She said, "Did I screw him good enough for you, ...honey bunny?"

In his squeaky, high-pitched voice, he replied to her, "Wonderful, Mary, ...just wonderful. ...You are such a good girl." She smiled even broader, as if pleasing him made her happier than anything else ever would.

It was at that moment that I noticed he was holding my gun. "Shit, I'd left it on the other side of the room with my clothes, ...how stupid am I, or what?"

Then, unexpectedly, he aimed the pistol away from me and pointed it at her; and as if in slow motion, her exuberant smile slowly faded, as her eyes opened extremely wide in curious disbelief.

BANG!

Instantly, I noticed that a small red hole suddenly appeared on her chest, just above her heart. Then, the thin material of her white negligee started to turn red at that spot, and quickly spread out in all directions, as the negligee soaked up the blood like a sponge. All the while, she pathetically gasped for air, having trouble breathing. Her eyes, now completely wide open in shock, were completely fixed upon him in disbelief, as she fell back on the couch. I could hear gurgling noises coming from the hole in her chest. Her eyes were still completely wide open in complete shock, even though she had now left this world.

The smell of gun powder trickled into my nostrils, stinging them.

Masterson squeakily said, "I bet you're wondering what going on here, Big Dickie?"

I said nothing; all the while, I was just wondering why I hadn't trusted my gut today.

"My wife and I play sex games constantly. One of her favorites is, 'screw the private dick, while I watch from behind the curtain'. I must say, Big Dick, you fucked her the best of all them. I'm sick of her disappearing for days on end, I'm tired of her, and I'm ready to move on. Besides, I have a huge insurance policy on her that I could use right about now. ...My cute young secretary, that you had the pleasure of meeting this afternoon, has been pressuring me to take her on a long cruise to Tahiti for a few months. After hearing about your reputation with women, (especially other men's wives) and then after reading last evening's Times, I thought this little scenario up myself, on the spur of the moment, ... not too bad, ehh. What do you think the newspapers will say tomorrow?"

"Big Dick Rockhard shot to death by female client, after he forced himself on her. Prominent businessman's wife also shot dead during struggle. Bodies found by grieving loyal husband. ...Read all about it."

Of all the things I could have been thinking about at that very moment, all that kept going through my stupid brain was, why hadn't I trusted my gut, like any good private eye should, instead of my snake?

BANG!

I didn't hear the sound of the shot, or feel any pain as the bullet ripped through my head, ...everything just slowly went black, as my limp body fell to the parlor floor.

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Moral of the story:

...And so, my friend, again I repeat, I only relay this story to you out of a sense of brotherly camaraderie, ...so that if you ever have a day like this, you'll know to trust your gut, instead of your snake. Go back home to bed - because ...it just ain't worth it to tempt the hand of fate.

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