'All For Me' is one of my very early writing efforts, and the writing is rougher than my later works, but it also has an energy that I like. It's also heavily influenced by the infamous Charles Stuart murder case. 'All For Me' was originally published on the Judas crime story webzine.
All For Me
I
looked at her, all peaceful, all quiet and serene. Sleeping on her stomach with
her arm across my chest and her head nestled against my shoulder. So much in
love with me.
It
choked me up realizing I had to kill her.
She
made a soft purring noise. I put my hand against the back of her head and
gently caressed her hair, and her purring became more content, like a soft
running engine. Her body wiggled closer to me. I could feel a moist heat coming
from it.
She
really didn't leave me any choice.
How
many times has she told me she'd rather be dead than live without me? Too many
times to remember. So you could look at it like I was going to be doing her a
favor. Saving her from unbearable misery. Because if I didn't kill her I would
leave her, and not just because I was sick of her short plump body, at least
not entirely. Besides, Sue has over and over again told me she'd do anything to
make me happy and there's not much in this world that would make me any happier
than collecting from her eight hundred thousand dollar life insurance policy.
I
reached over and kissed her big soft red lips. She stirred and opened her eyes,
looking at me a little groggily. "Hi," she murmured.
"Just
wanted to tell you how much you mean to me," I whispered into her ear, and
then went to sleep.
The
next morning I told her I was going to meet my cousin Steve after work for a
few drinks.
"I
was hoping you could start coming home earlier,” she said, her lips pushing
into a tiny frown. “Maybe you could quit going out so much."
I
took another bite of the scrambled eggs and sausage and chewed it slowly before
turning back to her, grinning. "You're sounding like an old married woman."
I winked at her. "Besides, you don't want to deprive me of having a little
fun, do you?"
"You
can't have fun with me?"
"Come
on." I could feel my grin straining a bit. "Let's not start this
again."
"I
don't want you seeing him. I don't like him!"
I
took another bite of scrambled eggs and took my time chewing it. "Look,"
I told her. "I don't like that attitude about my family, understand? And
besides, if you want to worry about something, why don't you start worrying
about all the weight you've been packing on. What is it, twenty pounds in the
last two months?"
Sue
stared at me, her face stuck in a queer smile. Her bottom lip started
quivering, and well, it was sort of like watching a fuse after it had been lit.
All at once, as if the spark had reached the explosives, she started bawling,
shedding tears like a goddamn fountain.
"Aw
come on, Sugar," I tried pleading. "I didn't mean anything by it.
Only there's more of you to love, that's all."
None
of my coaxing and apologizing helped. She just sat there, her mouth stretched
grotesquely, wailing and moaning like there was no tomorrow. It made me feel a
little funny, but I was late for work as it was so all I could do was shovel
down the rest of my breakfast and promise her I wouldn't be out too late with my
cousin.
As
I'd already said, if I didn't kill her I would have to leave her. The act was
beginning to wear thin, so to speak. Things I used to swallow down were now
slipping out. I couldn't help myself, and the worst part was how much I was
enjoying it.
###
Steve
was sitting alone at a back table nursing a beer. From far away he looked like
he could've been my twin. Up close, though, he wasn't as good looking thanks to
acne scarring around his cheeks and a pale sickly complexion. I joined him.
"How
you doing, Cuz," I asked.
"Not
bad." He took a sip of his beer and shifted his eyes to me before staring
back at some imaginary spot on the table. "What you got?"
"How
does fifty grand sound?"
His
eyes moved back to me. Half-closed, unblinking, and against the unnatural
paleness of his skin, they could've been the eyes of a mannequin.
"Now
Cuz, what you got that an insurance company will pay fifty grand for?" he
asked, his lips twisting into a thin smile.
"My
wife's neck."
He
was sipping his beer when I said that and it almost came out before he was able
to swallow it back down. A shadow fell over his eyes. "That's not funny,
Cuz."
I
signaled the waitress for a beer and waited ‘til she brought it and left before
turning back to my cousin. "No," I conceded. "It's not funny.
Well, maybe a little. It sure the hell is profitable, though."
"Tommy,"
Steve said, his voice low and edgy. "This isn't the type of insurance scam
I want to run, okay? Now if you got some jewelry or stereo equipment, let me
know where and when, okay?"
I started laughing. "What's your problem, Cuz? Don't tell me it's your high sense of morality ’cause I heard about you whacking Murphy. And I know you didn't get any fifty grand for it."
"But
your wife?"
"Why
the hell not?"
He
began playing with his beer glass, rolling it between his palms. "Sue's a
good kid. I like her," he said, almost embarrassed.
"Yeah
well, she thinks you're scum of the earth," I told him. "Told me so
just this morning. And you know what a big mouth she's got. If she ever found out
about Murphy, Jesus, I just don't know. Wouldn't surprise me if your mom ended
up being told about it, and god knows who else."
My
cousin sat staring at me, his face frozen hard, his eyes like pale green
marbles. It seemed a long time before he nodded. I told him how we were going
to murder my wife.
"The
cops are going to suspect you," he said. "Especially when they get
wind of the insurance policy."
"Hey,
let them. I'm going to be a victim too, you know."
"You
got a girlfriend?"
"What
difference does that make?"
"Big
difference. Tommy, this is no kid's game. You got a girlfriend and this thing
goes down the cops aren't going to give up on you. You got one?"
I
shook my head. "There's a blond babe at work who wants it bad but I
haven't given it to her yet. You should see her, Cuz. Twenty-two, gorgeous,
works out all the goddamn time. A waist like this -" I demonstrated with
my hands, spreading them less than a foot apart. "Could hurt a guy. But
I'll wait an appropriate mourning period before finding out just how much.
Okay?"
He
didn't say anything. He just sat there staring at me. Heartless bastard. A
man's planning to kill his wife and all he could do was sit there and stare.
I
nodded at him. "Tomorrow night, eight o'clock. Just like we talked
about."
"You're
sure, Cuz?"
"Hell
yes."
###
When
I got home Sue was unforgiving. Her eyes were red and puffy, as if she'd spent
the whole day crying. When I tried talking to her, she ignored me and went
straight to the bedroom, slamming the door behind her. Later, when I joined her
in bed, she turned her back to me and moved as far over as she could. It hurt
me. Sort of made me feel sick inside. Lying there I realized how it was our
last night together and I started feeling even sicker. I guess I also started
feeling a little anxious, too anxious to sleep.
I
began massaging her, and well, Sue could never stay mad at me. Before too long
we were making up. It didn't help, though. Afterwards, I was more anxious than
when we started.
I
woke Sue up a few more times and each time we'd go at it. It would tire me out
but nothing else. It didn't help with the edginess. I couldn't sleep. I
couldn't keep from thinking. During one of our tumbles Sue murmured how I
couldn't keep my hands off her. I had to bite my lip to keep from bawling like
a baby.
I
was out of bed before the alarm went off. Sue was still sound asleep by the
time I slipped out of the house. I guess I was feeling too anxious to trust
myself with her.
At
work it was more of the same. I couldn't sit still. I couldn't keep from
thinking about it… from thinking about what was going to happen. I tried but I
couldn't.
Sometime
during the afternoon I had flowers delivered. I included a note describing how
I loved her more than life itself. It couldn't hurt to make her last few hours
happy, and well, to also leave evidence for the cops about how blissfully
married we were.
As
I said the day dragged on. It was torture. By the time I left work my stomach
felt like hell. Like a glass of milk would've been too much for it. Driving
home the pain got so bad I had to pull over to keep from blacking out. I just
sat there, doubled over, shaking like a goddamn junkie.
By
the time I got home I must've looked like a wreak. When Sue saw me her round,
soft face broke into a worried frown. She put her palm against my forehead, her
frown deepening. "You feel warm, Dear," she said. "Why don't you
go lie down."
I
forced a smile. "Maybe later. Right now I'm taking you out to
dinner."
She
started shaking her head. "I want you to lie down now and ..."
I
put my finger against her mouth and quieted her. "No way, Sugar." I
said. "I'm going to make it up to you for acting like such a jerk before.
Nothing you say is going to change my mind. Now move your cute ass into the
car."
She
looked like she wanted to argue but I guess she saw it was useless. Her face
softened and she nodded. I followed her outside.
As
I drove, Sue sat quietly, withdrawn, maybe even a little anxious herself. I
told her I had reservations at her favorite yuppie rip-off joint in Manhattan.
All she did was nod. She looked uncomfortable. "This is a nice idea,"
she said after a while. "I've got
something to tell you."
"Good
news, I hope?" I said without looking at her. She answered me with a weak
nod I caught from the corner of my eye.
I
turned off from Flatbush Avenue and headed towards the projects before turning
down a blind alley.
"Where
are you going?" Sue asked, puzzled.
"I
need to meet Steve. It will just take a minute," I said staring straight
ahead, not trusting myself to
look at her.
There
was a long silence, and without looking at her I knew how her face was
transforming itself.
"I'm not going to wait here for him," she said
at last. "If you don't want to eat dinner with me now, I'll find a cab and
go myself."
Something
in me snapped. It had to have. I turned to her and lost all control. I started
saying things that were so ugly and cruel that even now I cringe thinking about
it. Sue sat horrified, her face turning pale white. Her bottom lip started
quivering and then the tears leaked out and that just egged me on even more. I
kept at it even after I saw my cousin emerge from the shadows.
Steve
moved quickly. He got in the back seat, put a gun to Sue's head and
pulled the trigger. Twice.
I
was hit across the face by a wet sticky spray and realized it was her blood. As
she fell forward I saw the hole in the back of her head. The way she ended up
against the dashboard…I just wasn't prepared for it. The way her mouth was left
twisted open with thick strands of saliva hanging from it, and her face soaked
wet with tears and blood. And her eyes, oh god, her eyes...
How
in the world could I've been?
My
cousin got out the car, came around front to Sue's side, and took the jewelry
from her body. I guess I must've panicked. It was only natural after watching
what just happened. Hell anyone else would've done the same. All I needed were
a few minutes to get myself together, but when my cousin lifted his head to
face me his eyes glazed over and then closed halfway.
"What
are you waiting for?" I guess I was screaming. I raised my arm because we
agreed for him to shoot me in a fleshy area below the bone where he couldn't do
much damage. "What the hell are you waiting for?"
He
lowered the gun, and the sonofabitch shot me in the stomach.
I
stared at him and then at my stomach and watched as a large red circle grew
outward. "You killed me," I moaned. "You dirty sonofabitch, you
killed me."
"You're
panicking, Cuz," he said quietly.
All
I could do was stare at him. His face seemed to fade in and out. Blurring into
a white ball and then disappearing into darkness. "I'm dying," I
cried. I was holding my stomach with both hands. I could feel the wetness
growing.
"It'd
be a shame if you did, Cuz." he said. "Especially how I wouldn't get
a dime from any of this. But if you live maybe you'll keep your mouth shut.
Maybe you won't panic when the cops come—"
I
stopped hearing him. I leaned forward against the horn. After a while I
couldn't hear it either. And then there was nothing but darkness.
###
The
darkness broke. I realized I was on a stretcher. One of the guys carrying it
was crying. He saw that my eyes were open.
"Your
wife," he tried to explain. "I'm so sorry."
"What
about my stomach? Am I going to need a colostomy bag?"
I
had to close my eyes again. Everything was spinning around so fast. And then it
all just went black again.
###
I
was later told I was out for three days. Well, sort of out. I know I slipped
back into consciousness a few times. Once I felt something moving inside me and
then heard a guy yelling, "For Chrissakes, get him under!" Another
time I saw Sue's parents standing over me, their faces cold, expressionless.
Then I fell back into the darkness
###
When
I finally came out of it I felt like death. Like I had the type of hangover
maybe a couple of gallons of cheap vodka and a few swallows of chewing tobacco
might produce. My stomach felt sore and stiff, like it had been worked over
with a two by four. I could barely open my eyes.
I
heard someone calling my name. I couldn't lift my head. A few seconds later a
thin man with small black eyes leaned over me.
"Tom
Williams, can you talk now?" he asked, studying me like I was an insect.
I
opened my mouth. It felt like I had a dozen sweat socks stuffed in my throat.
"W-water," I murmured, and then I started gagging.
He
moved away. Almost right after that I heard an argument coming from the room, then
a nurse bringing me water. She washed me off with a sponge and took my blood
pressure. After she left I laid on my back staring at the ceiling.
###
The
next day they had me propped up in bed. I could see my stomach was wrapped with
a thick bandage. Even though they had me doped up on some heavy stuff I felt
like hell. The day dragged on. A few times I started to think of Sue. I could
see her face white, blood-streaked, eyes staring at nothing. Mercifully, the
stuff they had me on kept my mind drifting. Still, images of her kept coming
back.
Later
that afternoon, the doctor came in and introduced himself and told me what was
going on. For a while they thought they were going to lose me. I had cleared
the hurdle, though. I wasn't going to need a colostomy bag. I had a tough road
ahead but every indication pointed to a full recovery. Nothing was mentioned
about Sue.
When
he was done he looked around uncomfortably. "We'd like to keep visitors
away for the next few days. There's a police detective who needs to speak to
you. Do you feel up to talking with him?" he asked.
I
looked past the doctor and nodded. The same man who had been staring over me
the day before was brought in. He introduced himself as Detective Lou Marzon.
"I
know you're not feeling very good, Mr. Williams, but I need to ask some
questions to help catch the guy who did this. Do you remember what
happened?"
I
nodded. I had a tough time talking. My voice sounded weak and hollow as I told
him how I had tried taking a shortcut to a bank machine and a junkie jumped
into the back of the car and made me drive to that alley.
"Can
you describe him?"
I
shook my head and made up some crap about it all happening so fast. I vaguely
described someone who could've been any one of the hundreds of junkies living
off the streets of Brooklyn. He tried prodding me for more details, but I kept
shaking my head and muttering how it all happened so fast. Finally he put down
his notebook and studied me.
"Can
I call you Tom?" he asked.
I
nodded.
"Tell
me, Tom," he said. "Why haven't you asked about your wife?"
I
looked away. "Because I already know she's dead. The ambulance attendant
told me."
"Yeah,
he told us you didn't seem that concerned. All you cared about was whether you
were going to need a colostomy bag."
I
met his small black fish eyes. "I was in shock. Ever been shot in the
stomach? What the hell point are you trying to make?"
"None.
Just trying to clear up loose ends. When you're up to it we'll bring over some
photos for you to look at. Maybe something might click."
"Thanks,
Detective." I lifted my hand and he reluctantly took it. He had a soft,
moist grip.
"This
is so damn tragic," he sighed. "A five month pregnant wife shot dead
in front of her husband. What's this world coming to?"
All
I could do was stare at him. And the sonofabitch was staring right back,
measuring the reaction he got.
"What
are you talking about?" I croaked in a hoarse whisper.
"You
didn't know your wife was pregnant?"
I
put my hands to my eyes and started weeping. I had my eyes shut tight, but I
could hear my doctor ushering Marzon out of the room. The detective tried protesting
but soon his voice faded to nothing. I knew I was alone then, but I couldn’t
stop weeping, at least not right away. I couldn’t understand why Sue didn't
tell me she was pregnant. Maybe it had something to do with me joking about the
only way I'd like to see a kid of mine was on the end of a coat hanger. I was
only joking. She should've known better. It showed how little she trusted me,
and right then that knowledge hurt as much as my stomach did.
###
Marzon
came back the next day with a stack of mugshots. I picked out about half a
dozen but told him I wasn't sure of any of them. He didn't seem to mind. As he
was leaving he asked about my cousin Steve, about how often I saw him.
Fortunately,
I was still doped up, so he didn't get any telling reaction out of me. Without a
second of hesitation I told him Steve and I were always playing together as
kids. That I still saw him every once in a while. And in fact, I had a few
beers with him the night before I was shot. Marzon let it drop.
Three
days later my family was allowed to visit. My mom and dad and four of my
brothers and sisters were first. Sue's parents also came that day. They didn't
say much, though. Steve showed up a couple of days later with a group of my
other cousins. I avoided shaking hands with him. He stood off to the side,
staring sullenly at the floor. His face looked paler than usual, his lips
pressed into a tight, bloodless grin.
Two
weeks later Steve came by for another visit. By then I had gotten to where I
could move around. When he came in, he looked past me.
"Come
on, Cuz," he said. "I think you could use some fresh air."
I
let him help me to my feet. I had to use a cane. It took a while to get down
the hallway and to the elevator. As soon as the elevator door closed, he went
nuts.
"Why
the hell didn't you tell me she was pregnant?” he seethed. “Why the hell didn't
you?"
I
just shrugged. “I just thought she was getting fat,” I said.
Of
course, I was lying. A blind man could've seen that Sue was pregnant. And then
there how she’d gotten so moody and weepy, like her hormones were off-kilter. I
must’ve known. I had to have.
"You
sonofabitch. You dirty, stinking sonofabitch. I wish I had blown your head off
instead of hers."
“Calm
down, Cuz. So what if Sue was pregnant? It doesn’t change anything.”
"It
doesn’t, huh?” He stood staring at me, his mouth moving like he was chewing
gum, like he could barely control himself. “You had to tell her you're going to
meet me for drinks?” he finally let out, his voice a harsh whisper. “Well,
bright boy, she told her mom who then told the cops. Same with the flowers you
sent. You're married to her four years and never send flowers until the day you
plan on killing her. And that note you sent with them? Jesus Christ, you got
any brains in your head? You want to guess how I know about this? You want to
guess who's been telling me?"
His
eyes glazed over. His lips sort of snarled up like what you'd see on a feral
animal, and he pushed me hard in the chest. I toppled backwards and had to grab
onto an armrest to keep from falling over. I pulled myself back up and held my
breath while a sharp, cutting pain ripped through my stomach. When it passed, I
forced a grin at him.
"You're
not thinking straight, Cuz," I said. "The cops have nothing, you
understand? Nothing. And thanks to that near fatal wound you gave me, which I
haven't totally forgiven you for, they got less than nothing. But if you start
beating me up here, hey, we're both finished."
He
stood breathing hard, his hands clenched at his side. "Show some fucking
brains," he forced out, his voice trembling. Neither of us said anything
after that.
Later,
I couldn't keep from thinking about him. About how unglued he got. Of course I
knew the cops suspected me, but I also knew it didn't matter. That bullet I
took to the stomach gave me more public sympathy than I'd ever imagine. For
them to risk charging me they'd have to have something solid. And they had
nothing. Still, I couldn't keep from thinking about the way Steve had panicked.
Even after I'd gotten released from the hospital I couldn't get it out of my
mind. It kept nagging at me, worrying me.
I
took a walk to a corner drugstore and called Steve at home. He called me back
ten minutes later from a pay phone. His voice sounded odd.
"I
just spoke to our friend, Detective Marzon," he said. "He told me you
spent five grand on a diamond necklace for your girlfriend."
"What's
your point?"
"And
that you were screwing her for months before what happened to Sue."
"You
mean before you killed her, Cuz."
"You
crazy bastard. You crazy stupid bastard. You really don't have any brains, do
you?"
"Look,
Cuz," I said. "I think we better talk in private. Meet me at
Vincent's in an hour."
He
paused. "Better make it two hours." He hung up with a faint click.
I
walked back home and found an eight inch carving knife in the kitchen. I held
it up and studied it. My Cuz really didn't leave me much of a choice, but I
have to admit I was sort of looking forward to it. He was panicking and he had
to be taken care of. That was only part of it, though. I still hadn't forgiven
him about shooting me in the stomach. That still was only part of it. He had
murdered my wife and my unborn child, which I later found out would've been my
son. I couldn't get that out of my mind.
I
sat around, waiting, and parked three blocks from Vincent's Bar, walking the
rest of the way. There was an alley across from the bar's parking lot. I hid
behind a dumpster. In the dark no one would be able to see me.
My
Cuz ended up being quite a bit late. After he pulled into the lot, I stood up
and called to him, signaling him towards me. As he walked over, he told me it
was too late.
"What
are you talking about, Cuz?" I asked. I had the knife hidden in my jacket.
"It's
too late for what you're planning. I already made a deal with the cops. I
spilled my guts to Marzon over the phone two minutes ago.” He had his cell
phone out, and I saw his fingers typing out something. “I just texted Marzon,
told him where we are. He’ll be here in minutes."
All
I could do was stare at him. A soft buzzing started in my ears. "You
shouldn't have done that, Cuz."
"I
had to with the way you’re acting. They would've got both of us, Tommy. I had
to make a deal while I still could. I’m here to try talking some sense into
you. If you’re smart, you could save the family a lot of pain. It would be best
for everyone."
"Very
considerate of you, Cuz. Let me guess, in your story you didn't know what was
going to happen to Sue, is that right?"
"Look,
Tommy. I'm sorry about all this. You know I always liked you. But try and think
what's best for the family. Your mom and dad."
I
held out my hand to him. "You're right, Steve. I'm sorry about all this,
too."
He
actually took my hand. In one motion, I pulled him towards me and swung the
knife into his gut.
The blade stuck halfway into him. He sagged to the ground.
His face looked green, his eyes surprised and scared.
As
he sat on the amongst the broken glass and trash, I kicked away at the knife.
He moaned a little and then there was nothing. I kept kicking at him until the
knife was completely in him. What he said before about spilling his guts was
now entirely accurate.
I
kicked him a few more times, but it had gotten kind of useless. His eyes were
dull and vacant. He was long gone.
If
Steve was leveling with me, the cops would be there soon. I had to leave. I
knew killing him wouldn't help me any with the cops, but it had to be done. For
Sue's sake. For the sake of my murdered son.
###
Once
I got in my car, I scribbled a quick suicide note, then drove to the Manhattan
bridge and got out of the car. What I was going to do was stop a car and throw
the driver over the bridge. I thought with my car left behind with the note and
a dead body floating in the East River, it would give me enough time to get to
Canada. But standing on the bridge and looking at the water, only one thing
seemed right. And so I did it.
I
had hoped the impact would've killed me right off, but it didn't. Only broke my
neck. And it took so long to die. As I sunk to the bottom, paralyzed, it felt
like my lungs were going to burst, and then my head. It was unbearable. And as
I waited, all I could think of was Sue. It was like she was right there with
me, staring at me with her cold, dead eyes. And as much as I tried, I couldn't
get her to see the truth. How I did it all for her.
