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Sorry about the absence. I hope to be back by September 15 October 6, with a full explanation. Or, at least, a decent excuse.
Binghamton, south of Boston, is a city, though a small one. Its bad neighborhoods, though not as bad as parts of Manhattan or L.A., still made Duncan Kilner nervous.
He didn't want to park a fifty-thousand-dollar car near here, so he had taken the bus and was now walking the rest of the way, carrying his briefcase close to him. It was broad daylight, Duncan could take care of himself, and still he was nervous. He went to 37 Pleasant Street, it was a three-family house. He climbed the stairs to the second floor and knocked. A man asked who is it, Duncan said his name, adding he was from Panderson Real Estate, and he wanted to talk to them about their new house. The one they haven't even moved into yet.
Allen Townsend opened the door, let Duncan in. Allen was 24, Duncan knew. He looked a little older than his picture, and much happier. Duncan saw he wore jeans and a T shirt, both brand new.
Inside, Allen's wife, Holly was feeding their one-year-old, Jenny. Holly also had new clothes, and she looked like the doctor just told her that that lump we thought was cancer was just a spot on the film, you're perfectly healthy, ma'am. Most of their possessions had been packed into boxes.
Introductions were made, and they all agreed to call each other by their first names. The Townsends offered coffee, soda, iced tea. Duncan took the iced tea, because she had just made a fresh pitcher. He began. "First of all, congratulations on selling your patent. I know you worked hard. It must be nice to go from here to a better neighborhood. Especially with a baby. Cute kid, by the way."
"Thank you, er, Duncan. Yeah, that patent certainly solved a few money worries. You know, we're already buying a house. Ten-men Real Estate took care us."
"Ten-men is a good agency. Can't go wrong with them. But you haven't bought that house yet. My client also wants the same house. In fact, he was there first. The seller just chose you instead."
"We're sorry," said Holly. And she was not gloating She truly did sound sorry. "I guess we just made a better offer. We're paying nearly three and half million, you know."
"I know. My client's offer was five hundred thousand dollars more. The problem is that you're a nice couple with a cute baby. Norman Rockwell types. My client, on the other hand, has a personality like what you'd find on your shoes if you trailed a diarrhetic mule. Now, there is no discrimination as recognized by the law here. If the seller likes one of the buyers better than the other, and it's not 'cause of race, religion, or musical preference, he does have the legal right to take a half-million dollar bath. But I will offer you this. I will find you a house worth four million. I'll pay the half-million difference."
"How can you afford that? Will your commission cover that?" asked Allen, and Holly said, "Oh, but I love that new house." Duncan had sold real estate long enough to know she really did love that new house. She wasn't angling for a better deal.
"Let me worry about affording it. Tell you what, if I eat all the commissions, fees, transfer costs, etc., that's the equivalent of another mil, at least. How does that sound?" Damn! Diarrhea boy was not worth this. But you-know-who wanted him in that house, so...
"That is tempting, I wish we could, but... we do love that house. And Mr. Taber was so nice to us, you said he didn't like the other guy. And..."
"No hard feelings. I kinda overextended myself with that last offer, anyway. And this trip wasn't a complete loss. That was some great iced tea. I mean really, really good."
Thank you," she said. "It's a family recipe."
"Does any one else have it, Holly, or is that recipe about to die right now with you?"
"No, I... what?!"
Duncan Kilner stood up, held up his left hand. His hand immediately transformed into a multi-bladed metallic object. The blades moved and chopped faster than mere human eyes could follow. A quick thrust, and Allen's brain, which had almost brought them out of that house, was now sprayed all over that house. Holly tried to run. Duncan took a moment to enjoy her panic, then chased her and grabbed her by her neck with his right hand. Which instantly became blades.
The baby cried and screamed now. Babies were fun. Duncan never cared about babies when he was human, but now that he was a gonner, babies were fun. He took his time. Babies always have more blood than you'd think, he'd noticed.
Okay, the Virago would be happy enough with this, and Duncan was satisfied. He'd shower, put on the clean clothes he had in his briefcase, then call his contact in the police to cover. But first he'd finish that iced tea.
It was a hot day. He had just done some hard work. And the spilt blood and brains only made it taste that much better.
Go to Chapter 52: A Glimmer Of Hope
Go to Chapter 54: CSI (Coupla Stooges Investigate)
Bring your friends into the Gonspiracy! Tell them about
Banny
And
Lissa
and get their eternal gratitude, and a chance to win $10,000 and a Sony DVD Player, because using your friends for your own personal enrichment, and having them owe you for it, is the gonner way!
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Dave Lerner Stories (note that to use the mailto you'll need to edit it in your 'send to' window. I apologize, but I've already lost one address to spam, and if I get inundated again, I won't have time to read your letters.) - All Rights Reserved. Note that this includes images of the Tricryptogon, and the name "Tricryptogon".