Murder Anthology by Paul Weightman (top e book reader TXT) 📕

of her and she resisted, thrashing and bucking, worried he was going to rape her. Instead he sat astride her midriff, his entire weight preventing her from movement and again he gently caressed her small breasts. He brought the knife to her left breast and cupped it with one hand. She sensed something was going to happen and tried to buck him off but his bulk held her tight to the bed. The knife blade sliced clean in to the flesh, it resisted slightly at the muscle and an explosion of blood showered his face. He persevered and using a sawing motion removed her entire breast. The hanging flap of bloody skin was pathetic; he threw the disgusting mass in his gloved hand to the floor. She had drained of all colours and her golden hair was matted to her forehead with sweat.
The knife slicing through her skin was like a white hot searing sensation. She screamed inside, the sound echoing blindly around her mind. Her vision swam with black and white dots, consciousness swooning in and out. She prayed for the pleasure of passing out. He was grasping her right breast, she knew what was coming. Her body tensed in anticipation and she kicked her legs to appease the pain. He hacked at her like she was a lump of meat; Emily knew she was going to die. She was bleeding profusely and the pain made her entire body throb. Her throat felt raw even though she hadn’t screamed out loud, her limbs were heavy like lead. She saw through lowered lids, her right breast in his hand, she saw the look of distaste on his face. She saw him throw it to the carpet. Now he had removed both of her breasts, she knew he wouldn’t stop and she also knew with certainty this was how she would die. She offered a silent prayer to a god she didn’t really believe in to keep her children safe from harm.
He saw her eyes rolling to the back of her head and slapped her hard around the face. He didn’t want her passing out on him, not now. She seemed to catch hold of the lifeline and her eyes become round and wide. He smiled menacingly and moved back down to her feet. He leaned over her and using the blade sliced through her thong, removing it easily from her pale skin. He used his elbows to part her legs, she was hardly able to resist him now, her strength diminishing with the blood loss. He inserted the knife blade in to her, thrusting it as though he was pouring himself in to her. Mercifully she passed out on the third stroke and deaths kiss was quickly bestowed on her pink lips.
The sound seemed to come from a million miles away and in his deep dreamless sleep, Gerry’s subconscious was not penetrated. It continued relentlessly and eventually his eyes opened and he jumped up with a start. He recognized the sound of the telephone and he groped on his bedside table for the receiver. He didn’t recognize the young Sergeant’s voice but he could pick up the perceptible undercurrents of anxiety.
“Inspector, there’s been another one.”
“Where?” His voice came out thick, clogged with sleep.
“19 Broadleigh Avenue,,,”
The Sergeants voice was cut off as Gerry banged the receiver down. He knew exactly where 19 Broadleigh Avenue was, his ex wife and daughters lived there. He didn’t even dress, time was too important. Instead he grabbed his car keys and was out of the house in under a minute, blocking the thought that his precious daughters were at Broadleigh Avenue.


Chronicle of a murderer

How to get rid of the body?

The murder bit’s the easy part. As long as you’re fairly quiet, or use a gag, you can spend as long as you like. At home. Nice comfy surroundings. You know where everything's kept. Everything you might need. Took a lot of thinking through, though, beforehand. The plastic sheet on the bed was a good idea. Not very nice to work on, but when they’re terrified, bodily functions can come into play.

A quick rinse, a deodorant spray, and Bob’s your uncle.

In a way it's a shame she had to die when she did, but frankly, I'd run out of ideas. You can only play for so long then you start repeating yourself. I didn't want that. Still, I was fairly inventive by anyone's standards. It'll linger in the memory that's for sure. I'll be better next time.

Now, think! How to get rid of the body? What did the others do. The well known ones. The fact they got caught doesn't mean they didn't have any ideas. After all, some of them got away with it for years. Perhaps they were just sloppy when it came down to the detail. I certainly won't be. Most of them were as thick as shit!

Bury it? You've got to get it out the flat first. You can't exactly bury it here. It'd be a hell of a shock for Mrs Perkins downstairs. Flush it in bits? - Neilson did that. It doesn't bloody work! Congealed fat and gory bits and pieces trapped in the waste. You can't afford to move, can you?

Make a list, and make notes.

1) Take it out whole. In a suitcase or something. Need to fold it up as small as possible. Better do it before rigor mortis sets in.

1a) At night! - No, stupid! A bloody great suitcase, now weighing nine stone something, down the stairs in a block of flats at night? How suspicious is that?

1b) During the day? Audacious! If stopped by a neighbour I could be going on my holidays. - Brilliant, bonehead! Then where are you going to stay for the next two weeks? In a tanning salon?

1c) Wait for rigor, and roll it up in a carpet. Hire a van and park it outside, and away! - Roll it up in a carpet? And what will you say to the landlord next month when he does his six monthly inspection? I'll bring the carpet back. Say I've had it cleaned.- Oh, for goodness' sake! Too many details. Too many things to go wrong. Keep it simple!

2) Chop it up and take it out in a series of packages. Carrier bag size. Stick them in waste paper bins all over the city. Could probably do it in ten bags. Two days max! - No! Not in London! One full carrier bag in a waste bin and some busybody will mark you out as a mad bomber. Ring the police. You face will be all over the ten o’clock news with three quarters of the body left in the bath.

3) Chop it up small. Take it out piecemeal. Not too often, mustn’t be seen to change my habits. Maybe just a little bit each time I go up to the shop, and the pub, and the Chinese. Just the same as normal! Use Tesco's "carrier bags for life". (A touch of ironic humour never hurt anyone.) They’re all the same. Take a spare and then I could dump one and bring back something in the other, fish and chips, a bottle of beer, a tin of corned beef. All nice and normal! - It’d take about a month doing it like that! Think of the smell!

You should have thought this through before you killed her in a flat. You can't change it now. Can you?

Oh, bugger. How am I going to get rid of the body?

How do other writers do it? I've been staring at the page now for hours.

Who'd have thought there'd be so much fat? And so greasy. It took seventeen bottles of Fairy Liquid just to clean up afterwards. And thank goodness for Kitchen Devils - they always stay sharp.

Anyway, job done and no trace left. Shame really. It didn't really go according to plan. Clever move though; joining that creative writing site. When you're stuck for a solution simply ask for help from enthusiatic amateurs. Loads of ideas from those guys. Mostly useless, of course, but they have imagination that's for sure. Merge a couple of ideas, refine a little, and hey presto, bye-bye body. I'd have liked it to be the first in a series. But it was a bit of a mess really.

Perfect disposal plan now. As Sarah Beeny, the property guru, says, (and wouldn't I like to bump into her), location, location, location. I’ve bought a stable block and some pasture land in the middle of nowhere. Running water and a nice little well, dry and about 100 feet deep. I can certainly drop a few bodies down there and no mistake. “Come and see my horses, ladies”. Who could resist? And if they do? GHB and a white transit van. How anonymous is that?

Now for a theme. You have to have a theme. All serial killers in the movies, on TV, and in thrillers have a theme. The Seven Deadly Sins, Dante's Inferno, Grimm's Folk Tales, the Deaths of the Apostles, the biblical plagues of Egypt. They've all been done. Vincent Price had a smashing theme in "Theatre of Blood".

I've simply got to have a theme.

It's so difficult. I want to start straight away but with a theme it would be so much more fun. In between victims I can watch the press until, eventually, it becomes obvious and they'll try to second guess me.

So a theme. Simpson’s characters who have died? Not really enough of them. Bleeding Gums Murphy? Dr. Marvin Munroe? Definitely not, I only want girls.

Common names of flowers? No. How the hell are you going to find girls called Rose or Violet unless you go on a Saga holiday?

Dwarves! Kill a grumpy girl, a dopey girl, a sleepy girl, a doctor, and so on. Do you really want to limit yourself to seven?

Horsemen of the Apocalypse? Just concentrate!!!

Letters of the Alphabet? One called Ann, the next Beatrice, then Carol etc, etc. Who dun’it? Agatha Christie that’s who. The ABC murders.

The police won’t find the bodies so the theme must be in the selection and not the murder itself. So, something religious or really vague.

I’ve got it. Nursery rhymes. There are loads. I’ll follow a Nursery Rhyme theme and if the press or the police are really clever, (if only), the theme will point them directly to where the bodies are. Brilliant.

Now to find a shepherdess, a hill climber called Jill, a gardener called Mary. Here we go gathering girls in May…
Ding, dong dell. Tee Hee!
Such a squealer! She sounded like a cross between a small pig and a Swiss yodeling competition. I'm sure sometimes she could only be heard by dogs and passing bats. Great fun and so exciting while she lasted but I must do something about the noise. I don’t want some nosey rambler down the lane to hear something he shouldn’t. I quite like it here. It’s good to have a place that works. Loft insulation ought to soundproof it but it might make it too hot and uncomfortable. I do like to be comfy. I shall have to do some research.

This is such a lark and so easy. If I'd known it would be this easy and so much fun I'd