A world of lies. A world of secrets. No one is safe in this world ravaged by war. All fight to survive, but others fight to free themselves. An organization, known only as The Rose, is trying to ov...
A Dash of Cyanide
“Well I suppose that starting at the beginning would be prudent, so after he’s taken me out a few times and I’d gotten comfortable with his habits, I killed ‘him.”
“What could he have done to make you do that?” the bartender asked with a slightly fearful look.
I took a long drag on the cigarette I had between my fingers to draw out the suspense of my confession. He had stopped cleaning the glass in his hands and watched me as I blew smoke rings up toward the dim lights. I looked over at him from the corner of my eye and gave a light grin before beginning again.
“Well if you get me another scotch on the rocks I might just tell you.”
His eyes lit up at the mention of a sale and quickly scurried to get the bottle. I snuffed out the orange glow of the filter just as the kid walked back with my drink in hand. I downed half of it, a light rush making me dizzy as the poison sunk into the back of my throat.
“Well there I was,” I began in a distant voice, “a PYT just sitting at my desk at work. I had a cup o Joe next to me and a headset hooked up to the phone. I was a secretary at a big shot law firm and I swear Mr. Rogers, the man wearing the pants in that place, couldn’t keep his eyes off me in that little red dress.”
I lit another cigarette and smiled, the bartender watching me.
“So was this… Mr. Rogers the one you-“
“No, Honey. No! He was just the man that signed my paycheck at the time.”
“Then who was the man you-”
“I’m getting to it honey, calm yourself.”
He silenced himself and waited for me to continue. I drank the last of my drink, taking a deep breath before I went on.
“Well there I was, typing away, waiting for the day to end when he walked in. Called himself Mr. John Black. He was a dashing man in a stiff black suit and a silky red tie. He walked right over to me and smiled, his shiny white teeth blinding me. He asked me ‘bout an appointment with Rogers and I told him what he wanted to know. O course I had to flutter my eyes a bit and give my best smile. I mean, a striking man like him with no ring was a rare find, right?” I said, a smile on my face. I laughed darkly before I began again, tasting the bitter taste of resentment in my mouth. “Well he gave me his card and I gave Mr. John Black my number. I didn’t think he would really call me, but you know, never hurts to try. The day ended without anything else happening, so I just got out of there and went home. Who would’ve guessed that I would have a message on my machine.”
I winked at the bartender and waved for another drink, getting a nod in response. Taking another swig and puffing more smoke I continued.
“Never give them your cell number, till you know what they want. Home phone makes them want to try harder. But back to the point at hand.” I cleared my throat and drank more of the scotch, snuffing out my cigarette.
“Well the message was a simple thing. It said that he wanted to go out and to call him back. So I did. Damn, was that a mistake, but I’ll get to that later. Well we went out bout… 3 days later. Fancy dinner and all that. He was a high-class man with a nice little income to boot. The going out continued for about three months. I mean, he seemed like a nice guy and all and at the time I really thought he was. In the middle of December he popped the question. A big ol’ diamond sat in the center of a box and as the woman that enjoyed the finer things in life I decided that living the life of a rich little ditty would be a fine way to live.”
“Well if he gave you what you wanted, why was he such a bad guy?” the bartender asked with a confused look. He had gone back to cleaning the glass, watching my own, making sure I never ran out.
“Ah. He seemed like a nice man on the surface, that’s for sure. He was always giving me things I wanted. Diamonds, rubies, gowns, everything a girl from a not so perfect background could want. But there was something… strange about him. He always had these business trips he would go on. He would be gone for weeks or months at a time. Me being the nosey little thing I am, decided to hire a PI to get to the bottom of it. He went round and round, following my husband, figuring out what he was doing. A few weeks later he reported back and told me something I would never forget.”
I gripped the glass as tight as I could, my body shaking from rage. With a deep breath and through gritted teeth I finished the thought.
“Turned out the bastard had three other wives besides me! All those business trips were a cover he would use on all of us. He thought he could have more than one family and in fact he was on the market for number five and he had only been with me a few months!”
I calmed my breathing and smiled at him. The bartender backed up slightly with a look of fear on his face. I laughed and drank the last swig of the watered down scotch and started back up, this time calmer.
“He called and said he would be home the day after I found out. I decided to let him in on a little surprise. I baked him a pie. His favorite flavor, apple. I put so much into that pie, all the feelings I had. He drove up and came in. I kissed him hello and offered him a slice, which he took. We both sat down and I watched him eat it. He had taken a bite when I told him I knew about the other women and he started to choke. His eyes got wide and he said something about my pie. He asked what I had put in it that was different from normal. So I told him. Apples, cinnamon, butter, a little oil, oh and a dash of cyanide.”
I smiled wickedly and pulled out a Fifty-dollar bill, handing it to the man.
“Here. Keep the change. Payment for listening to my story.” I began to walk out when the man stopped me, his voice cracking with uncertainty.
“W… when did all this happen?”
“Why just a few hours ago. About two, I believe. Anyway, good night.”
I smiled to myself as I heard him pick up the phone.
He would never be able to prove what I had told him.
I pulled out two pens and stared at them as they went down with a click. A distant boom followed the first click and the second was right by my ear. I climbed into my car and drove off, ripping the wig off my head. A voice crackled to life, the sound coming from the small speaker in the dash of the car.
“Agent K-17. Was the mission a success?”
“Affirmative. Black and Han have both been exterminated. Our operation is once again secure.”
“Excellent. Return to base in 01:00 hours for your next mission briefing.”
“Already on my way.”
I clicked off the radio and drove toward the base, the red and blue lights flashing behind me.
“Log,” I said to the dash, a click showing it was ready to record, “Mission 2-2-5-8, elimination of Mr. John Black. Success. Mission 2-2-7-6, elimination of Mr. Brian Han, success. Operation Blue Rose has been restored. Next mission to come.”