It was a short rap at the door. A rap that suggested it’s owner was expected, and that time was of the essence. Elenor Durant, opened the door a tiny crack. Beyond it, bathed in the yellow glow of the security light stood a small, sharp mine. His dark brown eyes sunken into his sallow face, his black hair clinging to his head depite the dryness of the evening. He had a mustach, though the collection of dispirate hairs that made it up were simply an unconnected colleciton of long hairs. His lips turned up in a smile. “Mrs Elenor Durant, I presume”. It wasn’t a question. “Or should that be Miss Elenor Durant”. He made a strange wheezing noise that shook his shoulders. “Mr P…” the man held up his hand, “no names please. Sir will do”. He flashed is seedy smile again, and Elenor opened the door. The man shuffled in, and peeled off his grubby overcoat, and placed it into Elenor’s surprised hands. Underneath he wore a baddly fitting, rumpled suit, and carpet slippers. “Where is he?” the man asked, a slight hint of some eastern accent slipping out on the r. She motioned through into the sitting room. The man pushed the door open with a pen, and made a “mm” noise. “I didn’t me…”. The man held up his hand, as his beedy eyes explored the scene before him. The simple cream livingroom had gained a new and surprising colour, blood red. Sprayed from the now deceased corps of Rodney Durant, filander, abuser, and violent ex-husband. Elenor had no idea what it was that had pushed her over the edge. They had been together for nearly 20 years, and not once had she even raised her voice to him. He had powerful friends, the kind of friends that could do terrible things with wire and electricity, or an inappropriately placed poker. She had never imagined that one day she would have to make that call.
“I find it insteresting, do you not, that bodies make such interesting shapes when they are passed over.”
Elenor would later wonder why this strange man didn’t use the word dead. At the moment, however, she was still in a bit of shock. “Well, I can’t say…..”
The man continued, filling his pause. “It was a good swing, a strong swing, straight through the neck, severing the artery. Initially the blood must have arched rather prettily. He didn’t die instantly of course, just appeared to be dead. It probably took, in a healthy man like that, a full three minutes for his brain to finally drown. I have often wondered what, in the last minutes, people think about. He was obviously shocked.” He made the strange wheezing noise, his shoulders shaking making him look rather like a scarecrow in a high wind.
“We will of course start with the most obvious problem. That of the blood. Oh, sure, we could just wipe it all off, but that wont hide it from the dreaded luminol. We will do this in two stages. The first is we will clean what we can see with bleech. Ordinary house-hold bleech will do it. By we, I mean you, of course. Then we will use a not-so ordinary cleaner. We will use the clothes cleaner, oxygen bleech. This will cost you, but I’m sure you won’t mind. Oh, don’t worry, you will buy it from me in small payments over the next several years. Payments that will be undetectable, of random amounts. I am a patient man. Then we will move the corpes, and you will clean the carpet. Then.. well, you don’t need to know what will happen to Mr. Durant.”
Elenor looked on, wordless. The little man seemed to be quite happy narrating what she was going to do. It was all very matter of fact. She had already calmly, gone shopping. Amongst her usual cleaning stuff, she had picked up a few things that he had asked for, things that would look innocuous enough on the first look. Sponges, cleaning fluid, as well as her usual food shop. It was to look like a mid-week shop, going out for essentials, so bread and milk, and the occasional treat. She had picked up a bottle of wine, and some chocolate. She had a feeling she was going to need it. It was long, hard work under the watchful eye of the strange man. She was to dab, not smear the blood off, as much of it as would shift off, and put the tissue into the rubbish bag. She was then to take the oxygen bleach, which was a strange powder substance, and apply it with water to the stain, and to rub that off, making sure to not spread the water. This didn’t seem to help the stain much, but rather made it look dull, and shadow-like. She was then to take the standard cleaner, and clean the walls of all visible traces.
The man produced a heavy-duty looking sack, and calmly walked over to Rodger. He looked down at the corps with a rather bored expression and produced two latex gloves from his pocket. He donned them with a rather theatrical slap which seemed to Elenor to echo unnecessarily. He folder Rodgers hands over his heart, and lifted his knees up. He then placed the feet into the bag, and with a fluid, and obviously practised movement, tipped the body forward so that it fell, rather stiffly, into the bag. He paused for a moment, then grabbing the back with both hands, he lifted it with a strength that his skeletal frame belied, and placed it by the door.
The cleaning process took hours, all the while the tv showing a recent movie, while the strange man shuffled back and forth in his slippers, making that strange “mmh” noise. He made her clean the walls, and the floor, and several items of furniture. He suggested that she should clean the rest, and the hallway just to be on the safe side. He then, without a word, bounded up the stairs. Elenor followed him, not really willing to let this strange man wander around her house. By the time she had caught up with him, he was standing in her bedroom his hand vibrating as he looked curiously at an item he had taken from her bed-side stall. She caught his eyes as he watched it wobble, and wished she hadn’t. There was a pause, before he walked calmly to the wardrobe, her once-favourite night-time toy in his hand, and threw it open. He pulled out a suit-case, and calmly began to fill it. Suits, shirts, underwear, socks. “His passport, if you will, and his wallet” Elenor hesitated in the doorway, her eyes on his vibrating hand, and then turned to fetch them from the cabinet. He made the strange “mmh” noise as she returned. She noticed, with a curious, detached horror that the toy was now vibrating quicker that it had been before she left. Satisfied with his packing, he walked passed, and down the stairs, hefting the other bag in his off hand as he reached the door.
“Now, remember Mrs Durant..” a name that was even now sounding foreign to her “… you will watch that movie from start to finish. As far as you are aware Rodney is away on a business trip, and you don’t know where. He is due to return in 3 days. On day 4 you will call his mobile several times, and then you will call around your friends to ask if they have seen him. On day 5 you will call the police. They will come and ask you questions. You will cry, and say you have no idea where he is. The police will want to search your home, let them. They will find that he has taken enough clothing for 3 days, and his bank-accounts will be in regular use in some foreign country. The police will report that he is not missing, but that he is still on holiday, and that it is a domestic matter. After a year, you will change your carpet and your furniture. When you take the carpet up, clean the entire floor just as I have shown you. Good night Mrs. Durant.” and with that, the strange man stepped out into the night.
Elenor stood in our house, oddly silent despite the noise of the television. She took a deep breath, and despite herself, began to cry. She was right, she was going to need the chocolate and the bottle of wine.
~BX
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