Chapter 1 – The Tell-Tale Typewriter
Black gloved hands. They flew over a keyboard, typing relentlessly. The glow from small desk lamp was the only thing that was illuminating the room. The banging finally ceased. The one in the black gloves stopped to read their work.
Od[iwd]vwd]voqwng[0iwdhv[nkw’knd’lvdvp]od v]pdv ]q9d0PA]V QWG]VPO V
;OQN[VNQ[0FRVG[WQKRGVN’QODIV [QFDV PQKMDF V[OQIDHGAQJDV QDV\WRE-G
Black gloved hands turned into fists and slammed down on the typewriter breaking it into pieces. It apparently is hard to type with gloves on.
The figure then walked across the room. In the black gloved hands, were photographs. Photographs of women. Young beautiful women. The pictures were taken from afar with voyeuristic intent. None of the women knew that they were being photographed. One young woman, had long blond hair and was photographed from inside a retail store. One with shoulder length red hair, was photographed while she stood on a street corner. The last one, had short brown hair and was photographed while driving a car. The one thing the photographs all had in common besides them all being of beautiful, young women is that they had red marker drawn across their throats like a slash from a sharp blade, spurting gore violently out of the wound.
Chapter 2 – Check Please
Edwin Fenech was in a hurry that morning. He really wanted to get to the publisher’s office quickly to pick up his check. He was halted by his loud, and at times obnoxious, friend that went by the name of Irish, for the reason that he had red hair even though he was Italian. Irish wanted to stop and pick up a smutty, giallo book at the newsstand but was drawn to the headline of the newspaper that read, THIRD BEAUTIFUL GIRL SLAIN THIS WEEK.
“Get a look at this.” Irish said. He handed the paper to Edwin.
“Oh, that’s crap. Nothing ever happens in Italy. I should know, I’m American!” Edwin argued.
“No Edwin look, this is the third girl to be murdered this week. Right here in town!”
“They are just trying to sell papers.” Edwin laughed off the idea of the murders. “I am an award winning novelist, a pianist, a vocalist, a renowned ballet dancer and have been known to sometimes have psychic visions, don’t you think if there was anything like that going on around here I would’ve picked up on it? I mean come on, don’t you think I would’ve known if anything like this was going on?”
Irish nodded, “You are right, Edwin. If anyone would’ve known about this, it would be you.” He patted Edwin on the back. “Let’s go pick up your check!” The two friends walked through Rome and felt as if maybe their time together was coming to an end. “So what are you going to do once you get your check?” Irish asked.
“As soon as Suzy comes back from runway modeling in Milan, we will head back to the States, I guess. Nothing is really keeping me here anymore. I just needed some time to recharge my engines, you know.” Edwin said.
“Yes, but that was five years ago,” Irish said.
“I know, I know. There just hasn’t been anything to inspire me at all. There were only two reasons I wrote that book for your publisher,” Edwin said. “One, I needed the money to move back to America and two, it is a subject that I know so much about I could have written it in my sleep.”
“Yes, you have proved your infinite knowledge on the subject,” Irish said. “This is the best reference book ever on female pubic hair. If you weren’t already famous, I would tell you that you were on your way!”
“You are too kind, friend.”
“When does Suzy get back into town?” Irish asked.
“Was yesterday, Monday?”
Confused, Irish answered, “Why yes.”
“Shit,” Edwin looks as if he had forgotten something. “She probably got in 20 minutes ago. I bet she thought I was going to pick her up from the station. Oh well. She’s pretty understanding.”
Irish and Edwin laughed light-heartedly and walked into the publisher’s office.
When they entered the office, Edwin was confused to see so many replicas of vaginas in glass cases. They all had different pubic hair-do’s. Some of them didn’t have any hair at all. Some had a lot of labia while others did not. Some had engorged clitorises while others were hidden behind flaps and hoods. Edwin also noticed a cat was lying amongst the vaginas.
“I like what they’ve done with the place.” Edwin said, somewhat sarcastically. “The pussy even has pussy here!”
“Pardon?” Irish said.
“The cat, numb-nuts,” Edwin said.
“Ah,” Irish laughed. “They are all very excited about your book release next week. They have gotten a ton of stuff to help promote it. They think it will be their biggest seller ever.”
“It probably will be,” Edwin said, knowing full well, that he is the best in the world at absolutely everything.
The man behind the desk didn’t say a word, but handed Irish a check. Irish handed it to Edwin. Edwin glanced at it to make sure all the zeros were there. Irish grabbed an advance copy of Edwin’s book off the desk and tried to give it to him.
“Don’t you want a copy of your own book?” Irish asked, in a shocked manner.
“No,” Edwin answered.
“Why on Earth not?” Irish asked.
“Some part of my body has been inside ever picture in that damn book,” Edwin said. “I don’t need postcards of places I’ve already visited.”
Irish was very impressed by the statement. “Well, how about a wank in the toilet before we head out?”
“No thanks. It’s starting to get dark and foggy outside. I don’t want to miss it.” Edwin headed for the door. “Besides, I’m sure Suzy will want to screw since she’s been hanging out with beautiful homosexuals, that wouldn’t touch her with a ten foot pole, for the last couple weeks.”