Killer's Craft by Wendy H. Jones

Author:Wendy H. Jones
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: thriller, crime, suspense, crime fiction, scottish detective, tartan noir, scottish crime, female detectives, detectives and murder, crime women sleuths
Publisher: Wendy H. Jones

Chapter 19

The bitch has to die. He’s known that for a long time. In fact it is past time for her to die. The time has come. Tonight it will happen. His preparations are controlled. Well thought out. She will never suspect a thing. He has brought in a take away. Indian. Her favourite. She will enjoy her last night on earth. Not that she will know this. Meat Samosa, Cauliflower Pakora, Lamb Bhuna, Chicken Korma, Pilau rice and Peshwari naan. A feast fit for a condemned woman. A 2000 vintage merlot is breathing on the table. He pours a glass as she sidles into the room, dressed in a provocative outfit, moving like the whore she is.

“Darling, have you done all this just for little old me.” Her eyelids flutter. He responds with a smile. He kisses her and hands over a glass of wine. She gulps it down, as he knows she will.

As they sit at the table she says, “Pour me another glass. You are so sweet to me. Of course you know I’ll repay you later. We’ll have fun, you and I.” Her lips brush his cheek. Her tongue traces his lips in a sensuous caress. They eat the curry and he watches her relax. More than she knows.

He says, “Let’s come back to this later,” and pulls her through to the bedroom. She begins to stagger.

“The wine… wine, stronger than I thought”

With clumsy hands she shrugs off her skimpy robe exposing underwear that comes only in a plain brown envelope from a catalogue. He lays her on the bed and kisses her but she is too drowsy to respond. Too involved in her own world, she hadn’t noticed that he wasn’t drinking. Within minutes she is insensible. It is easy to place a pillow over her face and smother her. It doesn’t take long. “Goodbye my love.”

* * *

Taking his leave, he moves along dark streets. Much of this place is still awaiting streetlights. As he walks down a country road he pulls off his gloves. The ones he always wears because of his ‘psoriasis’. She said she found the leather sexual. That it added something to the game. He puts the gloves in his pocket and looked at his clear and healthy hands. It is finished. It is time to move on.

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