The Recordings

Murder at The Aching Acres

The Recordings

Somewhere between 7:00 pm last night and dawn, Snookums, a loud obnoxious, hairless, rat like Chihuahua went missing. The incessant yapping and yelping had ceased so everyone in the complex suspected the dog must be dead. There was never a day or an hour in the day, especially throughout the evenings when the dog was not loud and obnoxious, shrieking hysterically or winning in its shrill contemplatively hungry for attention, disturbing the peace and causing sleepless nights for most residence. It was the first time in three years the condo community was not serenaded by the dog from hell so something must be wrong. The owner of the animal, Lucy Moses, was already up and about before sunrise bobbing and crying through the neighborhood for the love of her life. She was a muscular, masculine, large woman who you do not want to tangle with. She had a criminal past. It involved multiple murders and prison time. Everyone feared her. She began screaming in her heavy whiskey voice, “Snookums!....Snookums!....Where are you dogie?”

The police came. A report was filed. Neighbors were questioned but there was no Snookums and no clues surfaced. Lucy had guns; lots of guns and lots of ammo. The important point in all this is that Lucy is an unstable, quick tempered, hostile person on a good day. She was not having a good day. She was a person with a short lit fuse on a keg of gun powder ready to go off.

Her nasty large cigar dangling from her thick lips,which were moving it from side to side with her teeth grinding away at her anger, with a face turning red and uglier by the moment. She was a giant explosive pile of magma, growing in hate, building up passions in a chamber of frustration with pressure like a giant volcano ready to erupt.

Her nature was already corrupted and eroded away by a life of crime and bad luck. This event only added to her delicate condition; a psyche already on the verge of a catastrophe, balancing on the edge of a nightmare to draw you in, to seduce you with her violent temper about to rain down on you and swirl you away in her vortex of evil.

She had tattoos, plenty of tattoos, all of which were demonstratively demonic, carved out all over her massive body in reds and blacks, screaming in pain with every inch of ink etched on her skin. They were a warning sign for you to stay back......stay away....far away. People were inclined to avoid her.

This was not a quiet community. Aching Acres was and is exactly 4,840 square yards in area. It is a condominium facility in an insignificant place; too small to be mentioned on the map but well known by law enforcement. It is a place where anyone can come to live with no questions asked or background checks performed. There is a tall black metallic gate, exactly in the style of prison bars, which surrounds the total area of the complex. The original purpose of these bars was with the intention of keeping criminals out. The fact is; these days the gates are viewed by outsiders and local authorities as something to keep the dangerous elements in. Ms. Moses was a perfect example. Everyone knew her and her history. It reads like a rotted onion without words, where the actions speak for themselves, where things get worse the deeper you go, the more layers you peel back. It is a tale of horror, a long distance from happiness and much closer to abominable if you must know.

One of the neighbors spotted a fresh plot of earth where dirt had been disturbed recently and where moss had been growing just outside the gate entrance. It was obvious the moss was removed and the dirt altered. There was a growing suspicion among some of the renters and owners that someone or something might be newly buried there. It certainly called for further inspection.

No one in their right mind would go near Lucy to inform her of these findings. A young girl, who will go unnamed, came up with a brilliant idea. She suggested that someone from the board of directors writes a letter then gives it to Tommy. Little Tommy is the Aching Acres village idiot. The association should pay him $1.00 to hand deliver the message to Lucy. The question is; are they also going to pay for his funeral expenses?

Once the hostile woman gets the information that her loved one, her puppy love baby might be dead and buried out front, possibly murdered by one of the neighbors and then tossed in a common grave just outside the complex gate, there is no telling what she might do next. Surely it will not be pretty.

Without a doubt there were mixed feelings in the community population. Emotions were running high about the incident. Certainly everyone who lived there was secretly happy that the dog was dead. Now they can get some sleep. At the same time they are also comprehensive and in fear for their own lives. Lucy is not a person to be trifled with.

Perhaps it might have been a better idea to send an anonymous letter directly to the police and let them do some digging. Poor Tommy....Poor poor little Tommy....tsk tsk tsk. Shame on them for what they are doing to that poor unsuspecting boy. Sending a sheep to slaughter is ugly business.

Life has its own set of unpredictable rules and peculiar circumstances that evolve out of nothingness and come from nowhere, that come into play from time to time to cloud up or fog over what should be matters as clear as the light of day. This was such an occasion. Mr. John Muller, a land inspector for the government just moved into Lucy's building last week. He happens to like large powerful ugly women. He was a regular guy and a little on the big side himself. He is a man in his fifties with a mind bent on adventure. It could be speculated or even surmised that he felt less intimidated by women who were lesser than him but that is simply a working theory. Maybe a relationship with a dangerous person like Lucy is exactly what the doctor ordered to spice things up. It is what he needs so who should question the forces of nature? In any event he was in luck. It just so happens by chance he bumped into Lucy while she was still out looking for Snookums and clues to his whereabouts.

She hated the man instantly and asked him in a not so reverent way to get away from her or she would hurt him. It was love at first sight. He fell in love with her on the spot. He was charmed by the cigar, the red face and the deep abrasive voice which was directed at him with full force hostility. He introduced himself and asked her if he could help. She knew a sucker when she saw one and said yes. He could help her very much. She sent him to the liquor store for whiskey and smokes and they became best friends from that point on.

It was unknown if Mr. Muller's powers of observation were a blessing or a curse. While the two of them were walking just outside the front entrance gate, John could not help but notice something out of place. He broke a branch from a near by tree and stirred the earth where he suspected something was wrong with his newly invented stick. He informed Lucy that someone had been digging there recently. He said it with conviction and certainty. Naturally she went ballistic. It was time to get the shovels out and solve a mystery.

Between the maintenance crew and the two of them it took only a matter of minutes

to unearth the sad news. The Chihuahua was there, buried in a shallow grave, stiff and lifeless as a block of wood.

Soon afterwards an autopsy was performed and a report was released. Rat poison killed the animal. Lucy was shocked by the news. Her criminal mind came alive, came to the forefront of the matter. She would exact revenge on all parties responsible. There were three logical suspects; an elderly woman who lived in the apartment above her. She was a crab like creature with long salt and pepper straw like hair that looked like a nest for spiders. She was frequently in fights with her over the noise the dog was making. Many un-pleasantries were exchanged by both women. It was so much dark water over and under the bridge. Lucy felt for sure this woman was capable of murder. There was also a young boy who used to throw stones at the dog and at her from a distance. She could never get close enough to exact her revenge on him but she had him in mind now as a suspect. There was also a bald young man in his thirties who lives in the building next to hers that she suspected had the motive to do her and her dog harm. She had gotten into a fight with him a few months back in the local post office. He jumped in front of her in line and told her to get lost. He had said something unsavory to her about being a hag or ugly hag or of fat ugly hag or something to that effect. All of a sudden he moved right up to the top of her “to do” list. It was not a good list to be on.

Lucy took Mr. Muller by the hand and led him back to her apartment. It was not for romance. She handed him a loaded shot gun and instructed him to shoot to kill the three suspects. She would not take any chances. Justice must be served. Scorched Earth and executions all around were the order of the day. John had the bright idea of kidnapping the candidates at gun point at nightfall. They would be brought back to her apartment for interrogation; tied up, tortured and then shot to death. That made more sense. That way they would know for sure who the murderer was. She gave him his first kiss. He was thrilled. Death was in the air. It must be love.

Someone must have overheard them. Someone must have traduced them by informing the authorities of their pending plot to kidnap and kill. The police came into her apartment in full force to confiscate all of her weapons, to arrest them both and charge them with conspiracy to kill.

Charges were finally dropped after the dust settled. The person who initiated the original complaint and investigation against them feared for their life so the matter went away.

Lucy and John were under constant surveillance from the police. They would be on probation for many years to come. Every day was a living hell. Every night was Halloween.

After some time had passed and things quieted down. Lucy remembered that she had made some home videos of her little Snookums. He was doing what he normally did, which was to yelp, shriek and whine loudly. It was the next best thing to having him there. She decided to have a small segment of the film and sound track reproduced, where the dog is at its most obnoxious and loudest. She would have several recording discs made so she could send them out to all the neighbors and friends, (if such people exists), for holidays or just plain fun for all occasions. She was sure to keep some for herself to be played loud and clear every day with the windows wide open so the neighbors too could remember the little pooch.

She even thought about recreating greeting cards, the kind where, when you open the card it plays music or a holiday greeting from a tiny microchip. Her cards would be simple. The moment you open them you hear Snookums screams of joy and pain loud enough to wake the dead. Her wish was to find the three suspects who might have caused the demise of the love of her life. She only wanted to tie them down and make them listen to the recordings of Snookums for the rest of their natural lives in order to learn from their mistakes, to understand the error of their ways and to simply enjoy the listening pleasure of his long gone but not forgotten shrieking voice. What are good neighbors for if not to bring the joy of recordings into their lives.