A young lady takes the law into her hands, avengers her father's death and her sexual assault.
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The death of a beloved one could be hurtful no doubt. However, when it is as a result of ignorance and vulnerability – it could be painful than childbirth. Jane was from a beautiful background anyone could dream of. Graced by a rich father – a beautiful mother and two siblings that had the knack for arousing the beast in her often, was a perfect family match making from above. Janes’ father was into real estate and at the beginning of his career, life just as it remains, wasn’t a bed or roses. He was transformed into an extrovert by his beautiful wife – Marilyn. Full of grace, energy and will power, she had chosen a career which was peculiar to and antagonistic what her father had wanted. Matthew – Marilyn’s alcoholic and abusive father, made their cozy home a living hell for her mother and her twin. Marilyn spent the rest of her life reminiscing the lean, beautiful frame of her mother’s last moments. Her twin had cried her eyes sore as they both watched their mother who was once plump, full of vigor and plumy eyed lay on the bed looking straight on. Her frame scarcely making a dent on the fluffy mattress. Marilyn heard Carolyn spurt a curse. It could definitely not be for anyone else other than their father. “Marilyn” the dying woman finally found her voice. “remember all the good ways I have laid down before you and your sister. Be sure to follow after them all through. No matter what happens, always strife to forgive your father. If you can do that, then any other person would be easy to forgive.” Her eyes closed. It was her last.
Carolyn; slick, beautiful, blonde hair that flowed down her waists, hips that wiggled on strong legs, heart as stiff as ramrod, was broken by the death of the only hope they both had. Every attempt to forgive her father for abusing her mother so much as to hit her on the head with a sledge hammer because she couldn’t get dinner ready only festered into more hate and revenge on that creep – her father. Marilyn watched her twin and most valued possession ebb away in prostitution, alcoholism and other serial crimes. The sun in her heart had been darkened by the shadows of her father’s ways. Every effort to bring back her sister on track proofed futile and it dawned on her that she had been beclouded and infiltrated with the serum of evil. It flowed in her veins in lieu of blood. When Marilyn for the first and last time in her life punched a bully with fists of rage, for sexually assaulting her twin sister when they were nine years’ old, she felt that a beast in her she never knew existed had been rejuvenated. That monster was nothing near the one that had risen in her twenty – five – old sister. Marilyn came home that fateful afternoon from the grocery store where she worked as a receptionist. She had not expected anyone to be at home. Carolyn? She must have gone on her gambling, cocaine sniffing and hanging-out-with-friends’ sprees. She dropped her bag of groceries which came as a concession for her job well done. Her boss Ben McDaniel was that nice and caring.
Marilyn flickered the light switches, and made for the deep freezer to get some frozen chicken to grill. She could feel something awkward about the atmosphere, and thirty minutes earlier, she had felt her temples tingle painfully. It was the feeling she had when she suspected any evil. She stopped dead in her tracks towards the freezer as she saw light sputters of red liquid around the lock of the freezing gadget as it hummed angrily, exhaling hot, boiling air ferociously from its compressors. Her feet grew numb as she observed the red liquid to be blood; fresh and crimson. Frantically she looked at the door, as if someone would walk through it, and sap the air out of her lungs. She summoned courage and made for the lock of the freezer. It cast a warning she had chosen to ignore. She defied the forces and voices in her head, and in one sarcastic moment she opened and let out a scream that pierced the evening air, and there she passed out. Pearl Harbor was a large community in mass and space. but in crime, emotions, events, news, entertainment and sports, it was more shrouded than strawberry clusters. If it happened in Pearl Harbor, it can never be a secret.
The cold trail of water down her cheeks resuscitated her. She wasn’t bewildered at the sizeable number of people that had scream had attracted to the scene. Two NYPD blue shirts who hadn’t seen the clotted bloodstains on the snowy freezer bent over her, “What happened?” she wanted to tell them what she saw in the freezer, but her voice failed her. Her jabbed finger in the direction of the cold coffin of her father’s corpse, where his killer had deemed it fit for him to be, accounted for the failures of her voice. One of the policemen slithered to the direction of her wary finger and “Holy shit!” he exclaimed at the horrific sight before him. All the others had left at the confidence that the police would do their job efficiently. Marilyn told the aghast police officers what she had happened. Her sister’s phone lines were switched off at that moment. A search on her room revealed the emptiness of a desert. Carolyn had become a murderer. Marilyn was startled, she sobbed uncontrollably as she was being detained until the police could find her identical twin who was largely on the run. The murder was a perfect one. The murderer must have used gloves in the process – no traceable prints. The living room was distorted from the way she had left it for work in the morning. The settee wasn’t exactly at its position, and it was dented – suggesting that there was a struggle for life. The victim was dragged along the floor as revealed by the blood tracks on the floor and the scratches made by his shoes.
Carolyn was apprehended in the long run and was sentenced to life imprisonment for the gruesome murder of her father. The memories of those stab wounds made Marilyn scared to her bones. The house was foreclosed. The one would had paid the rent till her very death bed had long been gone, and Marilyn’s wages could feed a dog three days. The landlady had warned and threatened until she was left with no choice than to knock her out. Marilyn became a tenant at the quarters of the grocery. She did the cleaning, sweating ball like liquids from her face and armpits. Barely has she turned the “closed” tag to the “open” tag that her first customer, a lean, five feet nine, heavy stubble man whisked in through the entrance of the store. He headed straight for the coffee section and she had to make him… down and dirty coffee. She felt a twitch in her gut as the man took the first sip of his beverage. The resulting satisfactory look had given her joy and peace like a river. “Nice coffee.” His voice barely a moan. “Thanks.” He turned to leave… then turning back to her like he had left something, he cast that look that dissuaded indifference. “you are beautiful. And I like you.” Damn! It he had not only liked the coffee, he liked her too.
If McDaniel hadn’t appeared at her counter, she would have told him the same words he told her. She really liked him. She was the first man she’d ever admire and wish to be with all her life. “And what was it the rich boy said to you Miss McDonald?” her boss was fond of calling her by her surname even against her wish because the bearer of that name had left her with nothing less than pain and anguish. “rich boy?” “yes that’s the famous grandson of Luke Harbor.” “Oh jez! You mean that’s Jack?” she said in admiration. “you bet.” She hadn’t recognized him and he never looked near someone who had a hundred bucks – let alone having the whole of her place of habitation – a place where it was survival of the fittest – the origins of her being – Pearl Harbor. It felt like a dream when Jack proposed to her. It was a privilege very few people like her had to be the wife of the heir to the throne or the seat of government at Pearl Harbor. The possibilities were endless.
The matrimony was blessed with Jane and her fraternal twin siblings. They cherished their father so much. He was a symbol of strength and courage. He guarded his family and his wife was proud of him. Marilyn had been scared that the business prodigy would be too occupied to have time for the family. She was wrong. Jack Harbor devoted more time to the development and growth of his family. Jane and her twin brother’s enjoyed riding-the-horse-back sessions with their father. Jack would often lift Marilyn to the top of the wardrobe, for her to get her favorite shoe for Sunday service. That Sunday afternoon after the service and they got home, if Marilyn knew that would be the last of her precious jewel, she’d have let them wait for meeting of deacons held after the service - those assassins wouldn’t have. Jane who was just sixteen, was raped turn after turn by the five-man squad before her father who was also shot right in her face. They wanted to assault her mother, but one of them rattled “this one is cool and still tight, that one would be and old shag” referring to her and her mother. The general elections were coming, and a lot of opposition was aroused against Jack who would have been a contestant for the throne of his grandfather. On the afternoon of that murder, Jane had found the badge of the Ex - NYPD assassin who had his way with her the most.
Eight years after that cold murder, she joined the NYPD, with hate in her heart. She smuggled drugs undercover just to have access to the policeman turned drug baron who was responsible for her father’s death. She had brought down four of them, including the one who had his fill of her that afternoon. She came face to face with the leader of the “Moscow Gang” as they were called and got him killed. One of the men who was raged that his leader was down had shot Jane on the forehead. Marilyn was stupefied, when the body of her own daughter, her beloved soul was laid before her. She cried and refused to be comforted. If only Jane had known, she’s have just let karma take its course. She’d have just heeded her advice not to join the NYPD. But she wouldn’t have gotten justice though – against those evil men who short-lived her husband.
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PI novel set in Manhattan during the 1980s when art galleries and model agencies were the two most glamorous businesses in the world. Dangerously well written.
Read Chapter 1 here: https://www.lit4u.com/art-and-beauty-chapter-1/
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Prime-Time Crime Time (600 pages) is a collection of 35 fictional crime/detective stories and the work is author Jay Dubya's 43rd published hardcover/paperback book.
