Tag Archives: murder

2465. Let her eat cake

Some cultures eat cake with a fork; some with a spoon; some simply eat cake with their fingers.

Aileen had baked a cake for visitors. It wasn’t a fancy occasion. It wasn’t a particularly fancy cake. The cake was simply something to nibble on with a coffee or tea, or in Jackie Olwynn’s case, with a glass of water. The occasion was something that Aileen did every year, and that was to invite all the women who lived on the street in for a cuppa.

This was the eleventh year that Aileen had held such an occasion, but it was the first year since her husband had upped and left. He’d run off with a woman who lived two doors down the road. Penelope-Prue most certainly was not on the invitation list!

And then the worst happened: Jackie Olwynn arrived with Penelope-Prue in hand.  “She wasn’t going to come,” said Jackie, “and I said, don’t be a silly-billy.”

Penelope-Prue was from overseas. She was not a typical foreigner; she was loud, obnoxious, and did everything that was totally, socially proper in an ostentatious way. AND – she ate her cake with a fork.

The little afternoon tea began. Aileen had already divided the cake and placed the slices on pretty plates of delicate flowers. “And would any like a fork to eat their cake?”

Penelope-Prue did. “An educated lady is one who eats cake with a fork even if she dines alone!” joked Penelope-Prue.

Aileen nearly sniggered. “Aha!” she thought, “it is indeed very proper for that frump to eat her poisoned slice with a fork.”

2451.  An accidental murder

Charlene hadn’t meant to murder her husband in quite such a spectacular way. She had intended to shoot him with a gun, but the bayonet attached to the end of the rifle got in the way and she accidentally stabbed him in the chest. In the long run it turned out a lot better than the original plan.

It wasn’t an intended stabbing as such, but as she was coming along the passageway towards the bedroom with the loaded rifle, she tripped on the cat at the very moment her husband appeared at the bedroom door to find out what all the noise was about. The action of Charlene falling over the cat created enough impact to stab and kill her husband.

The rifle with the attached bayonet was part of a collection of Charlene’s husband’s war paraphernalia. I presumed your Honour, said Charlene at the trial, that the gun was not loaded.

The thing the judge couldn’t understand was why she should have been walking down the passageway with a bayonetted rifle if she hadn’t intended to use it.

“There is a totally logical explanation,” declared Charlene. (She had had a month or two to reflect upon the incident). “The roller blind in the bedroom was jammed and I needed a long pointy stick to reach up to loosen the stuck blind. The rifle with the bayonet was all I could find.”

The jury found Charlene not guilty. It was a fortuitous thing indeed, in which Charlene not only got rid of her husband, but got off scot-free as well. Charlene’s husband’s brother knew Charlene had lied and accidentally blew her head off.

2447.  A lethal posy

Anthea had always been a keen gardener. Now in her retirement, if the weather was fine, she was out pulling weeds, or planting seedlings, or watering the vegetables. Her garden was admired not only from the street but by the many neighbours who profited from Anthea’s generosity. Not only would neighbours benefit from boxes of fresh vegetables left on their doorstep, but bouquets of gorgeous flowers arrived if there was a happy or sad occasion.

Anthea knew fairly fast the tastes of neighbours. Charlene had pollen allergies so lilies in a posy were out. Gloria and Dick detested broccoli. And so on.

Now it so happened that one family of neighbours moved away. The house was bought by the nastiest couple imaginable. When Anthea welcomed them with a box of fresh vegetables, all they could say was “About time”. The husband (or the male in the relationship) had an obsession with drones. Anthea wasn’t the only one on the street to detest the invasion of her privacy with the neighbour’s wretched drones going here and there.

Enough is enough. Anthea whisked up a delightful salad from the greens in her garden. She included quite a few chopped up foxglove leaves – by mistake of course.

As Anthea said to Prue at the funeral, “Let’s hope any new neighbours are a lot lovelier.”

2441. Put the pieces together

Ketty had always wanted to attempt a jigsaw; a big one with a thousand pieces. The trouble was that the only bench top big enough to work on was the dining table. It’s not as if Ketty could lay the jigsaw out repeatedly between meals.

Of course Seth, her husband, thought the jigsaw was a wonderful idea. He’d grab any chance he could to eat his meals in an armchair in front of the TV, but Ketty insisted they sit properly at the dining table at least for the evening meal.

That is why Seth gave Ketty a thousand piece jigsaw for her birthday. Ketty was delighted. They would eat their meals in front of the TV until the jigsaw was finished. The jigsaw was of a pretty bridge over a pretty stream banked with pretty flowers – and a couple of ducks.

A month had passed and there were still six pieces left on the table and nine spaces.

“There are pieces missing,” declared Ketty. “And the six remaining pieces don’t seem to belong to the jigsaw.”

“At least we get to eat in front of the tele until the jigsaw is finished,” Seth said. He looked amused and unsurprised.

Anyway, Ketty later cleared the jigsaw off the table. She needed the table space for refreshments and cups of coffee to serve the mourners after they had attended Seth’s funeral.

2439. It’s a clown’s life

When José joined the circus as a clown three years ago it was the last thing he wanted to do. He found it humiliating walking round in oversized shoes squirting water through a fake rose on his lapel and distributing balloons to children. Ha! Ha! Ha! He knew he wasn’t very good at it, but a job is a job.

It was almost inevitable that something calamitous could happen, and it did. He was giving out balloons to little kiddies and squirting water on the rude ones.

Sitting there slap-bang in the front was a widow with her three children. José couldn’t avoid giving the children a balloon each. But would the widow see through his clown disguise? Would she recognize him as the guy who three years earlier had murdered her husband?

2432.  A brew of convolvulus

Giselle’s husband, Jeffrey, had said quite clearly thirty years ago that the Convolvulus (Morning Glory, Bindweed) growing wild in their garden should be exterminated. “It’s poisonous,” he said. “If you made a brew with it, it could kill you.”

“Who’s going to make a brew out of convolvulus?” asked Giselle. Still, she pulled out most of it from the garden and destroyed it; if only to keep her husband from going on about it.

Over the thirty years the convolvulus kept reappearing. It was impossible to eradicate every root and it sprouted up will-nilly. These days Jeffrey’s dislike of convolvulus grew into an eternal diatribe. Goodness knows why he didn’t go into the garden and pull the weeds himself. Quite frankly, Giselle had had enough. “It’s a dangerous plant. It’ll kill you.” On and on Jeffrey went. On and on. Giselle did all the work around the house.

That was when Giselle discovered that a brew made with convolvulus didn’t work.

2418. Life on the farm

When Wesley ran over his wife with the farm tractor it was hilarious. Not that it wasn’t a tragedy, but Wesley couldn’t help but see the irony in the situation. He was sure Cassandra would have seen the funny side as well. If she was still alive.

He had just taken the tractor out of the shed, apparently to feed out some hay to the cows. Cassandra was hanging out the washing on the line at the back of the house. She was hanging out the ham bag at the time. The ham bag was a cotton bag to put the leg of ham inside to keep it moist. They had just finished their Christmas ham, so the bag was in need of a heavy rinse. And at that precise moment of her hanging out the ham bag, WHAM! Wesley ran over her with the tractor. There was blood all over the place, including on the ham bag! On the ham bag! It had just been rinsed of bits of meat, and look at it now! It was hilarious.

Wesley drove the tractor back into the shed and went off to the pub to get totally drunk. Cassandra would no longer be leaving him for Farmer Judd next door.

2410.  Eugenia’s professional approach

Eugenia was a natural-born murderer. It came easy to her, and her ability to get away with it was astounding.

In the early days she would first marry her intended victims and then feign distraughtness at the funeral. These days she had given up such superficial nonsense. She would simply murder there and then no matter the marital state. Besides, being married to more than five murdered husbands might begin to arouse suspicion.

It came as a revelation to Eugenia that she could earn substantial amounts of money by killing off other people’s spouses. The only drawback was that she had to go to prison for a time to meet new clientele. It was nothing to convince other female prisoners that they needed their husbands obliterated.

After several prison stays the number of women wanting husbands or partners exterminated dwindled. Business suffered. There was only one thing for it. She would have to identify as a man and get sent to a men’s prison. There was sure to be a good number of male prisoners in need of spouse extermination.

And indeed there was. After several months stay, Eugene was released and reverted once again to being Eugenia. She had a list as long as her arm of spouses that needed culling. The rewards for doing so might even mean she could retire from work altogether. As she said, ”Going in and out of prison to scrounge for victims is not a particularly rewarding way to spend a life.”

These days she is in fact retired and lives off her savings. She’s given up murdering people.

Oh, and did I say? She’s married for the sixth time. The guy’s alright, although he can get a bit annoying at times.

2386. The time is tripe

Brenda’s husband, Colm, detested tripe; whereas Brenda loved it. It was Brenda who did most of the cooking, which is why Colm was subjected to a meal of tripe at least once a month.

Brenda hadn’t moved an inch in the fourteen years they had been married. At first, love overruled any tripe-dislike on Colm’s part. He heartily consumed it. But such action grows thin and now it was a massive monthly chore and had been that way for a dozen or so years. Indeed the marriage had grown decidedly rocky.

Brenda had always worked the night shift at the factory, which meant she would prepare a meal before leaving for work. From Colm’s point of view this was a blessing as he didn’t have to pretend to enjoy eating the tripe. However, he was a waste-not-want-not sort of guy so even though he detested tripe he forced himself to eat it. It wasn’t going to kill him and it was only once every four weeks or so.

It was Colm’s detestation of tripe that prompted Brenda to use the dish when she decided to poison her husband. He so disliked the taste that he would gulp it down, poison and all, with a grimace. The stage was set. Brenda went off to work.

Fourteen years of disgusting tripe is enough. Colm took his dish of tripe outside and buried it in the garden. As Anita from up the road said to Colm in the motel that evening: “Thank goodness you’ve at last taken a stand against that conniving, tripe-cooking lowlife. When tomorrow we begin to setup shop together I shall cook you a mean jellied eel.”

2375. The happiest day of his life

It had been the happiest day of Jerome’s life. His parents had died suddenly of food poisoning. His two sisters texted him saying they no longer wished to have anything to do with the family. His sole surviving brother left for overseas: “Don’t expect me ever to come back and don’t expect to hear from me ever again.”

There could be no doubt that Jerome came from a dysfunctional family, but at last he was free. That is why it had been a happy day for him. He was the only normal one in the family. It was marred only by the fact that when his parents died suddenly his two younger brothers had also eaten the poisonous pineapple.