The Morning, Noon & Night Omnibus Edition by Peter Bartram

Author:Peter Bartram [Bartram, Peter]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Action & Adventure, fun crime caper, amateur sleuth mystery, murder mystery, English murder mystery, comedy crime mystery, cozy crime
Publisher: The Bartram Partnership
Published: 2018-08-06T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter 12

I slept fitfully.

I don't know whether it was the bourbon or the club sandwich. Or a combination of both. But I tossed and turned on Mrs Koch's lumpy mattress.

At least I didn't have the itchy company of the bed bugs in the side room. They'd be feasting on Hank Schultz. No offence intended, of course.

At around two, I drifted into a light slumber. It was one of those restless sleeps where your dreams seem so vivid you feel they have to be real. I was sitting on a stool in a bar next to Hank. The lights were so bright I couldn't see anything beyond them. Hank kept passing me glasses of bourbon. I drank them, but I didn't become drunk.

And then the lights in the room dimmed and I realised that Hank had taken me to a cathouse. I was in a brothel. Girls were lounging on chaises longue around the room. But the girls had no faces. It was like the place where their face should be was a coloured light. Then one of the girls stood up and sashayed across the room. And her face appeared.

It was Shirley. My girlfriend Shirley.

I called out to her: “I'm over here, Shirley.” But she ignored me. She only had eyes for Hank. She walked up to him and stroked his face. He smiled, a sloppy lascivious smear of a grin with his tongue hanging out of the side of his mouth. He looked like an old bulldog having his tummy tickled. Then Shirley led Hank across the room and they went through a door. Shirley looked at me and shook her head. It was a message that I wasn't to follow. Then she shut the door.

I stared at the door and the lights started to become brighter. The door began to disappear as the lights shone more fiercely into my face. And all I could hear behind the door was Hank moaning - crying out with pleasure.

In the dream, I tried to block my ears against the moans.

And then I came awake. Suddenly. Like my brain had been plugged into a nuclear power plant.

And I heard Hank moan again.

Not in pleasure.

In pain.

He cried out - a long stifled cry which could have been “help”. There was a crash as some furniture fell over and a glass smashed.

I sat up in bed in a cold sweat.

I threw back the bed clothes and leapt out. I hauled open my bedroom door and hurtled down the corridor towards Hank's room.

I heaved open Hank's door and rushed into the room. Hank had fallen off his bed and was lying half propped against the wall. His face shone as white as an arctic glacier. His eyes stared as though he'd just seen the gates of Hell open in front of him. His mouth had dropped open in a silent scream.

And a knife was sticking from his chest.

As I crossed the room, blood frothed in his mouth and he vomited.

I felt my heart thump like a steam-hammer.

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