Tag Archives: murder

2330. The best laid plans

Rudolf thought he had planned his wife’s murder down to the last detail. He would strangle her with his bare hands and then hang her from the garage rafters to make it look like suicide.

The strangulation was easy. Everything went as planned. He had studied it in detail online. That was one of the advantages of the internet – you could find most things on it, and how to strangle a spouse popped up on his screen after clicking on a few links. It was what happened after the strangling that things began to go awry.

When Rudolf went to hang her corpse from the rafters he discovered that the bit of rope he had to do the job was too short. There was nothing for it but to get in the car and scoot off to the hardware store for a rope.

He quickly selected a rope and when he went to pay for it the date on his bank card had elapsed. He had to leave the rope there, go home, and rummage through his late wife’s purses to find the right card. She had several cards and he knew the pin number of one of them at least. He just wasn’t sure which card it was.

He had to go to four different hardware stores to try the different card with the number he knew. As luck always has it, it was the last card he used in the fourth store that worked.

By now, considerable time had passed. He quickly tied a noose around the corpse’s neck and hung the corpse from the rafters. Well blow me down! Rigor mortis had set in and his wife hung like the letter C, in a big curve. Nothing seemed natural. What a conundrum! What a dismal failure he was as a murderer!

Taking his wife’s working bank card, he locked the garage door, locked the house, and set out in his car for a month-long, all-expenses-paid, summer vacation.

2328. Cold murder

Murder was the last thing on Eunice’s mind when she went, one summer’s day, to buy an ice cream. In fact, she had never contemplated murder once in her life. Murder was something that other people did, in another part of town. One read about it. One sees it reported on the television news. This murder was destined to be spontaneous.

She went into the store, asked for a rum and raisin ice cream, had one lick of it, and WHAM she was murdered. Eunice had been murdered. It would have been possible for things to be the other way around with Eunice doing the murdering. Either way, there’d be a dead body.

When the policeman turned up he was horrified at the waste of a good ice cream. No doubt all would agree.

2325. Tragedy begets tragedy

When one is poor like myself, one frequently wonders why someone from such a rich family would do himself in. But that was exactly what Jake’s nineteen-year-old brother, Tate, did. When he missed out on getting selected for the local soccer team, he went out into the back shed and hung himself from the rafters. The parents were away at the time and it was left to twenty-year-old Jake to untangle the rope from the body, call the police, and phone the parents.

Jake spoke at his brother’s funeral. He said, “This time last week I had no idea I’d be needing to do this.”

His parents took it very badly, which is possibly why on the first anniversary of Tate’s death, Jake’s mother went out into the back shed and did exactly the same thing. Twenty-one-year-old Jake was devastated, as was his father.

Tragedy begets tragedy. On the second anniversary of Tate’s death and the first anniversary of the mother’s death the father went out into the back shed and…

Need I go on?

Twenty-two-year-old Jake inherited the lot. As he drove off in one of his father’s Vintage Tucker Automobiles he couldn’t help but think that it may have taken a lot of planning but it was a job well done.

2322. A moment in the life of Felix

Felix regarded Great-aunt Stella’s advice as utterly insensitive. Great-aunt Stella had said to Felix, “You can reach for the stars”. Didn’t she know he was blind?

As time went on, Felix became more and more upset at Great-aunt Stella’s insensitivity. How can one reach for the stars if one can’t see them? In a moment of extreme fume he managed to steal Great-aunt Stella’s handgun out of her purse. When she came into the room he fired in her general direction and shot the chandelier to smithereens. (They were very rich)

“What the hell is going on?” asked Great-uncle Vladimir.

“Oh,” said Felix, “I thought you were Great-aunt Stella.”

“You’re wasting your time,” said Great-uncle Vladimir. “I’ve already stabbed her in the kitchen with the carving knife.”

“How can you have done that,” asked Felix, “when you are in a wheelchair?”

Before he could answer, Felix pointed the gun and pulled the trigger.

There was a great splash followed by a moment’s silence.

“Now I can get the money,” said Felix.

Then Great-uncle Vladimir said, “I never cared for the fish in that aquarium anyway.”

(Explanation: Great-aunt Stella had been stabbed to death by Great-uncle Vladimir. Great-uncle Vladimir and Felix had planned to murder Great-aunt Stella and enjoy her enormous riches. But she left all in her will to her tropical fish.)

2316. Murder is not always straightforward

The trouble using poisonous berries to kill your mother-in-law is that the mixture of poisonous berries tastes awful. You can add strawberries and raspberries and blue berries, but the few poisonous berries tossed into the mix render the concoction unpalatable.

I even tried a strong tasting ice cream to go with it, but without luck. I made a berry pie with the most delectable pastry. Still no luck.

In the end I took the more expensive road; I hired someone to shoot her. Now my wife wants a divorce for my part in getting her mother murdered.

The trouble using poisonous berries to kill your wife is that the mixture of poisonous berries tastes awful…

2315. A bad week

From the moment Danny Hicks walked into that casino, Lady Luck was on his side. He’d had a shocking week, to put things mildly. His wife had run off with Buck Moxon and she wasn’t coming back. Buck Moxon was a local truck driver noted for his philandering.

Then his fridge had broken down and needed replacing. He really didn’t have enough money to do that but a fridge is a fridge and he needed to store his milk and beer somewhere. The only good thing about the broken fridge was when Buck Moxon came to collect the wife’s stuff Danny Hicks said “You might as well take the fridge” so Buck Moxon did.

That was before Buck Moxon’s lawyer tried to take everything Danny owned. After that Danny swore that if he ever saw Buck Moxon again he’d shoot him point blank in the head. He usually carried a hand gun.

Anyway, Danny thought he’d spend a couple of dollars in the casino to take his mind off things. From the moment Danny Hicks walked into that casino, Lady Luck was on his side; Buck Moxon was playing the slot machine right next to the door.

2302. Room 349

When I arrived back at the hotel after a wonderful day seeing the sights of the city and having a delightful lunch at the wharf, there was a note for me at Reception.  The note asked that upon my return would I kindly go to Room 349. I asked Reception who was in Room 349 and they answered that such information was confidential.

I didn’t know anyone in this city as far as I knew. Nor did I know of anyone who might be making a visit at the same time as me. I was rather hesitant to knock upon some strange door, in fact I was a little scared, and so I went back to my own room. I showered and thought about where to go for dinner. The whole message worried me. What if it was someone who needed my help? What if it was the chance of a life time? Perhaps I should go… I would think about it after I had dined.

I was a little reluctant to dine in the hotel’s restaurant just in case the person in Room 349 came in and accosted me or something. I would be constantly looking to see if I recognized any one. So I decided to go to The Fisherman’s Table where I had a delightful dish of lobster.

It was getting on for eight o’clock when I returned to the hotel. There were police everywhere. I was arrested. As far as they knew I was the last person to have been to Room 349 where the occupant had been murdered. I explained to the cops everything I have already told you. I hadn’t been to Room 349.

Well, well, well, said the policeman. They had searched my room and found blood-stained clothes that fitted the description Reception had said I was wearing when I returned earlier.

I knew I should have not left the clothes there. And, said the policeman, the clothes have your fiancée’s blood on them.

2294. The taxi ride

The cab driver turned right instead of left. I knew the area quite well and had presumed he would have turned left. So I learned over from the back seat and said, “I thought you would have gone down McKenzie Avenue.”

“Are you telling me,” he was clearly annoyed, “are you telling me that I don’t know my way around here? I’ve driven a taxi in this town for over ten years so don’t tell me I don’t know what I’m doing. I take it you’re not from this town.”

“No, I’m not from here,” I said. “But I know the area quite well.”

“Garbage,” he said. “You’re talking garbage.”

I could tell he was driving more carelessly. He’d speeded up and I thought he was taking the corners a little too fast. By now we were miles from where I wanted to go and he was still rabbiting on about my ignorance.

“Some people think they know everything.”

The next thing he had swiped the side of a parked car, but he kept on driving.

“Aha!” I exclaimed. “Here’s where I live!” It was a stupid thing to say because I’d already told him I didn’t live in this town, but he slammed on the brakes and said “Get out! That’ll be forty dollars.”

So I gave him forty dollars and he took off. About 30 seconds later there was a huge BOOM! and a plume of black smoke shot up behind some houses.

This incident has put a wet blanket on what I was going to do. Getting paid for murdering my ex will have to await another day. And besides, I left the bomb in the taxi.

2281. A cunning murderer

There is a secret meeting tonight and I have to be there. I know what it’s about, although I’m not supposed to know but a policeman told me. I often work for the police as a freelance detective. There’s been a series of murders locally. The seven victims seem to be done in by the same guy as the murders are almost identical: stabbed in the chest by a paper knife used to open envelops.

The meeting is secret so as not to draw attention to the fact that they closing in on a suspect. They don’t want the suspect to know. It’s hilarious. I know they’re not closing in on a suspect because it wasn’t a paper knife used in the murders; it was a screwdriver. And they are looking for a short guy and I’m 6 foot 2.

Anyway I’m on my way to the meeting and will hopefully muddle the trail even further. Here I am now! What’s this? What’s this, Officer? I’m under arrest for what?

2256. Over the teacups

Pricilla was an expert at tasseography, and she made a pretty penny at the trade. Of course, she did it for fun although some people took it seriously. To read tea leaves in cups brightened everyone’s day. Occasionally a group of friends would come along together and after drinking their tea would insist on a communal reading. It was good for a laugh!

Sometimes however Priscilla took things more seriously. Reading teacups could be more of an opportunity to listen and help people who were at a loss. They had come to the tasseographer because they were reaching out for help. Pricilla was an expert at divining those who were distraught and bringing out the best in people. Telling fortunes by reading tea leaves was simply a vehicle. In fact, once in a very long while, a friendship would form “over the teacups”.

Once a woman had come along to have her tea leaves read (although it should be noted that Pricilla also read coffee dregs if that was the client’s preference). Pricilla could tell she was distressed. It turned out that the woman had murdered her husband. It had been all over the papers and the police had been at a loss as to who had done the dastardly deed. And here was Mavis A. Clenovavitch of 29 Hartford Lane (sorry, I shouldn’t have used her name) telling Pricilla what the police had spent weeks trying to find out.

Now things had reached a pretty pass for Pricilla. Should she, or should she not, tell the police? I mean, was she under any obligation to report such things or should she regard confidentiality as sacred?

In the end Pricilla decided not to tell a soul. That is why to this day Mavis A. Clenovavitch of 29 Hartford Lane walks scot free, and both she and Pricilla enjoy the substantial fortune Mavis’ late husband left in his will.