The Murder Suite: Book One - The Audrey Murders (2 page)

              Police Constable Driver knew he had taken on a big task. Even though the population was small he recognized there was unrest here.  His predecessor left because he had been badly beaten with his own batten by a local gang member. Which was both embarrassing and violent. Driver knew that the same could happen to him. Local policemen didn’t carry guns and Tasers had just been introduced.  He would need to be on alert at all times.

He looked up at the big- breasted blonde tapping her fingernails on the counter.  He had not heard her come in.  “Can I help you?” he asked.  

“Yes, she said.  “I need you to contact the FBI.  I am getting phone calls from some lottery company who insists I have won millions.  They are calling me at home.  It is scary. They know my name.  I thought it was for real at first and then realized they were just a con. 

Can you do something about it? They are scamming single women living alone in New Zealand – it needs to stop”.  Her green eyes were cold and demanding as she just stood there waiting for his response.  

“We don’t have an FBI in New Zealand,” Driver responded. “We have Interpol but I don’t think they can do much in this circumstance.”  

The blonde looked frustrated.  

              “I have only been here a couple of days.”  He didn’t know why he confided this to her.  Maybe it was because he couldn’t help anyway and it seemed a way to soften to blow. 

“Oh, welcome to Kaeo. I hope you will be happy here,” She tucked a few loose strands of blonde hair into her stubby, short ponytail and left. 

Strange, thought Driver. He breathed a heavy sigh and returned to his paperwork. 

C H A P T E R   5

Audrey slammed the door as she entered her suite.  She had run down to the local grocery store to pick up some more wine, cheese and biscuits in the event she would be entertaining tonight.  She had stopped by the local police station while she was there. For the past two nights she had not been able to sleep thinking about how her life will change now she had won eight hundred thousand British pounds in an online lottery.  She had explained to the man who telephoned with congratulations she had not entered any lottery competition.  He had immediately explained her website had been chosen at random and, in fact, she was indeed a winner.

It wasn’t until this morning, after numerous convincing telephone calls from the lottery’ organizers, she had reluctantly given him her bank information to deposit the money. Then with horror she realized that it could all be a con.  Research online had proven it to be a fact.  She was so disappointed and angry she had been “taken in.”   She had felt her anger rising to new levels when she realized the new policeman would not help her and they would get away with it. She would need to call the bank on Monday morning and confess her stupidity and have them close her account and open a new one.  Bloody life!  Nothing was easy.  One minute you think you are going to live free of debit for ever and the next minute you realize that life is just shit after all. 

She placed the wine and cheese in the fridge and the biscuits on the counter top and turned as she heard a knock at her door.   It was the man.  She knew it would be.  Predictable they were.  She opened the door and saw him standing there with his laptop in his hand. 

“I cannot seem to get the wireless Internet to work,” he said.   

“Maybe if you try logging on again here,” Audrey said pointing to the outside table on her patio. “Then, once connected, it should work in your suite.  It happens sometimes.” She waited while he reconnected. 

“It works,” he said relieved and started back towards Suite C.   

“Great” Audrey said and returned back inside.  Well, I was wrong, she thought.  He didn’t invite me back.   She opened up the fridge and removed a fresh bottle of wine.  Audrey liked how New Zealand wines had screw caps on the wine bottles.  Even the better wines had screw caps.  Made it easier to open and you could replace the cap, unlike a swollen cork.   She poured a half glass and returned the bottle to the fridge.    She made a plate of cheese and biscuits, sat on the sofa and turned on the telly.   It was going to be quiet night after all.

C H A P T E R   6

Doug checked his email.  Maybe there was a message from his wife asking him to come back saying it was all a mistake or from one of his daughters.  He only visited his daughters once or twice a year.  Both lived in Queenstown where he and his first wife had lived.  They had never left the idyllic town and now worked in the tourism business promoting the local ski fields.  The sisters were best of friends but were closer to their Mother than to him.  They always blamed him for the divorce so many years ago. He looked at the screen.  Just the usual junk mail and a couple emails from the guys at work.   He didn’t feel like responding so he logged out and put the computer away.    A soak in the hot tub and a nice dinner would raise his spirits and get him ready for a day on the water.  

Doug walked into the huge closet and removed his clothes. He donned the complimentary robe hanging on the wooden coat hanger.  He liked this suite.  It wasn’t too fussy, not like the bed and breakfast places his wives like to stay in.  They had fancy bedspreads and frilly curtains and he hated having to talk to the owners in the  communal TV lounges.  Horrible.  He liked his privacy.  

But he did miss female company.  He had considered hiring a professional for a few hours.  But the nearest brothel was in Whangarei almost two hours away.   Legalizing prostitution in New Zealand in 2003 was a marvelous thing as far as Doug was concerned.   A few hundred dollars got him everything he would ever want from a woman, less the nagging.   It was perfect.  Unfortunately his last wife had not taken kindly to his costly pastime.   Now he was free to do what he wanted, when he wanted.   But tonight he would have to do without.  Then his mind wandered to the blonde woman owner.  She was a little heavy for his liking and a little old but she had great tits and nice legs.  After four or five drinks she would look even better.   

Doug poured himself another glass from the wine bottle.  He would pop over and ask her if she would like to join him in the hot tub over a glass of wine.  After all, this was the boondocks and he couldn’t be too particular.   Too much trouble, he thought. I will ring her, and he picked up the phone and dialed the office number.

C H A P T E R   7

She answered the phone “Good evening, Three Suites.” 

“Would you like to join me for a glass of wine and watch the sunset from the hot tub? This is Doug in Suite C.”  

Audrey smiled.   Now, that was more like it, she thought.  “OK,” she said “I will change and join you in a minute or two.”  She hung up the phone and walked upstairs to her bedroom and chose a simple black suit.  No suit could disguise her large breasts. She slipped into a matching black wrap to cover her body as best she could and made her way across the terracotta colored courtyard to the deck of Suite C. 

He was waiting at the table in his bathrobe, drinking wine and looking at the sun setting over the water.  Colors of orange, reds and yellows adorned the horizon.  The few clouds captured the colors and rays of light reflected their warm glow onto the surrounding landscape.   It was breathtaking.

Audrey almost forgot that she was angry and disillusioned with life as she sat quietly beside the man in the calm evening light.

As the last of the sun disappeared below the hills in the distance Audrey stood and switched on the deck lights. Doug removed the lid from the hot tub and Audrey stepped into the warm, scented water lowering herself gingerly until only her head and shoulders were exposed to the cool evening air.   She watched as Doug removed his robe and then it happened.  All the anger she had been feeling for the past few days exploded in her mind.    She closed her eyes to hide the monster building inside her.   Doug stepped into the tub.  His soft flabby penis hung shamelessly between his legs.  His protruding belly was covered in dark curly hairs that matched his pubic hairs.   Naked!  Always naked, thought Audrey. Why do these men have no decorum, no shame?  They flaunt their manhood as though it is a winning lottery ticket. Don’t men know that nakedness is not attractive over fifty – unless they have the body of younger man?

Audrey blamed legalized prostitution for the way men behaved today.   They actually believed pretty prostitutes when they told them they were handsome and virile.  The women took global vacations on money they took from stupid men.  

A few months ago, an owner of a chain of brothels had stayed in Suite A. Audrey had been fascinated by her chosen profession and asked. “How many women actually liked having sex with strangers? The owner had confessed that in her twenty years of running brothels in New Zealand only one woman had ever admitted she actually enjoyed her profession.   “The women do it for the money” she had said.  “Nothing else.”     

Audrey knew that New Zealand men didn’t date.  Not like American men did. They preferred a sure thing and a prostitute was a sure thing without any complications.  Married men, single men, it didn’t matter.  Prostitution gave them what they wanted. Sadly New Zealand women suffered the consequences.   Romance didn’t exist and chivalry went out with the prehistoric moa.

Audrey realized that Doug was talking.  At least his mouth was moving and she strained to hear him over the loud hum of the jets.     She kept her eyes level with his.   Not daring to look down in case she glimpsed his soft penis that she knew would be bobbing in the clear blue bubbles.   How Audrey hated penises. If only she could be gay then penises would not be an issue.   She decided to get out of the hot tub and return to her suite.   Tonight was not the right time for what she had in mind - maybe tomorrow night.    She said that she had work to do, grabbed her towel and wrap and walked barefoot across the courtyard to the comfort and privacy of her suite.

C H A P T E R   8

What is her problem? One minute she is sitting happily at the table watching the sunset and the next minute it was like she saw a ghost. Bloody women! You can’t live with them and you can’t live without them.

Doug climbed out of the hot tub, had a shower, dressed and drove his truck down to the local waterfront restaurant. He noticed how dark it was in the country.   The sky was a landscape in itself.  The Milky Way was breathtaking. The Southern Cross was easily recognizable.  Doug had never seen such a night sky before.  This truly was a piece of paradise.  He decided to eat outside to enjoy the evening air and the vastness of the evening.   He could hear morepork owls in the distance.  Their cry “more pork!  more pork!”  gave them their well-earned name. It was a loud call for a reasonably small owl.  Their yellow round eyes watched for flying bugs attracted by porch lights of neighboring houses. 

He had ordered fish and chips and was pleasantly surprised at the freshness of the fish.  New Zealanders knew that if you could smell the fish then it wasn’t fresh – the same with meat.   Farmers cannot stand the smell in a butcher shop.  “Rotting meat,” they would say. “Fresh meat does not smell”.

Doug was interested in the local farming.  New Zealand used to have over seventy million sheep.  Now, due to strong international demand, there are seven million dairy cattle, four million beef cattle and a marked reduction in sheep numbers to thirty million.  Most beef farms were in the North Island and Doug noticed during his drive up north many of the farms were now cattle farms with just a few sheep added to the mix.

He liked this area.  Seemed like a good group of guys in the Club. Mostly standing around tall tables drinking beer and discussing the weather as most farmers did.               “Looks like a long dry summer.” He heard a rugged faced, tall skinny guy announce as he ordered another beer.  “Hope the grass holds out”.   

              Doug drank his second beer and decided to head on back to the Chalets.  It was getting a little chilly and the hot tub would be just the ticket.   He might even get blondie to take another dip.    No women in the bar.   He glanced at the pub across the street.  It, too, was full of men. Most of them spilled outside smoking cigarettes and clutching a beer - their voices rowdy and raucous in the still night air.

C H A P T E R   9

Constable Driver headed out into the dark night to check on things.  All seemed pretty quiet.  A couple of burglaries were reported on Wainui Road not far from the fishing club. He would check out the area to see if anyone was acting out of the norm.   He drove the eight miles down to the waterfront turnoff. He liked Whangaroa Harbour. He had heard that it was a main tourist spot years ago.  The tourist buses used to stop there.  Now the buses missed the turnoff and drove straight up the ten highway to Manganui where they stopped for fish and chips on their way to the northern tip of Cape Rienga. There they could see the joining of both the Pacific Ocean and the Tasman Sea.  Now Whangaroa Harbor just had its docks, a small club restaurant, a bar, a few local residents, a couple of motels and a dairy. The docks were pretty full of local boats. Further down the road there was an old jetty and a boat ramp.   Locals fished for kahawai, terakihi, trevally, and snapper off the dock.

Driver pulled into the fishing club car park and noticed a guy getting into his truck. He didn’t recognize him as one of the locals but it was dark and he couldn’t be sure.   The truck was a black Toyota with heavy tires. It didn’t look like a farmer’s truck it was much too tidy. Looked as though it belonged to city type guy.   Most likely up here for the fishing.   Driver decided to go back to the fork in the road and make sure that the locals were not driving over the legal limit.  He had found a spot at the Wainui Road turnoff where he could watch the traffic in three different directions.    Everything seemed pretty quiet it was going to be a long night but he had no one to go home to. At least not until his family arrived.  As he parked the car and reached over to grab the coffee thermos and the sandwiches he had packed for his dinner he noticed the black Toyota heading up Wainui Road towards Tauranga Bay.   Not much up there, thought Driver - just the chalets and a few rental cabins at the bay.   He watched the truck tail lights disappear around a curve in the road.   All fell quiet again.