Last Dance

A Story by Sam Thurman

A private detective has his world turned upside down by a beautiful dame.

I knew I was in trouble the minute she walked through my door. She had hair as long as a Texas mile; blonde like a wheat field in the summer sun. Eyes so blue an ocean as wide as the Atlantic couldn't hold enough color. Lips as red as a crackling campfire on a cold winters night. Yep, she was trouble. I'm a sucker for trouble.
The Crimson blood on her jacket was a dead give away that I wasn't going home any time soon.
"Mr Banks, I need your help." She said as she waltzed inside the door to my office.
"What makes you think I can help a dame like you?" She was beautiful.
A sly smile crossed her face revealing her ivory grin. She turned as graceful as a cat and pointed to the door behind her.
"The sign on the door...says there you're a private dick."
"I am. Who might you be?"
"My name is Victoria Chase,... And I just killed my husband."
Well Victoria, let me set you on the straight and narrow. I'm a damn good detective. I've known you for a whole two minutes, and I've already solved the crime. Shall I divulge the details, or just call the coppers to come haul you to the pokey?"
"By all means... dick. Tell me the details."
"Well suit yourself." I stopped to lite a cigarette, pausing to exhale for dramatic effect. I moved up in my chair and sat up straight. Took in a deep breath and began.
"The blood on your jacket is not yours. I can tell that because you have no wounds. The way it's all splattered on you tells me that the blood came from somewhere below your waist. Looks like the weapon of choice was a Louisville slugger... right?"
A nod of approval came from Victoria. I continued watching her every move only pausing every minute or so to take a puff. She was eyeing me with caution, but still had that damn smirk on her face. I don't know what her beef is, but I'm going to find out.
"I can also tell there was no scuffle, because your are all prettied up, not a hair out of place. The blood in those curls and on your face say he got a pretty good beating."
She reached up to place a lock of those blood soaked blonde curls behind her ear. I stood up and moved closer to the minx, to try to unnerve her. Picked a perch on the edge of my mahogany leather bound desk. Still she didn't stop with that damn cheesy ear to ear smirk.
"I'll continue. I know you changed your shoes. There's blood on your stalkings, yet not on your shoes. Hell there's blood all over you. Didn't want the fuzz to see your bloody shoe prints at the scene and put two and two together. Must have done it at your home. But those aren't your shoes, they are the shoes of your husbands mistress."
She gasped and then let out a laugh like a hyena in heat. She said, "My my Mr Banks, you are a good dick."
"I'm not finished. Your fancy purse there says your a well to do gal. The taxi receipt say pick up on darlington street, so that means you live in Hampton Heights."
"Wow, I'm impressed"
"Here's how I figure it all went sideways. You came home early from your weekly bridge game at the palomino country club. You come inside and call for your maid. When no one answers you assume she didn't hear you until you hear a noise coming from upstairs. You walk up the red shag carpet stairs and pause to listen where the noise is coming from. There, right there, in your bedroom that's where you hear the noise. You get a queer little smile, and go to the door. You open the door and find your husband on top of the maid, giving her the business. You get enraged. You see the bat your husband used in the pick up game he went to the week before. Your husband sees you and is now telling you it's not what it looks like. You are madder than a hornet in a bees nest. You swing for the fences, or in this case your husbands noggin. Home run. He goes down like a drunk after Saint patties day bender. Seeing him lying on the floor in a growing pool of his on blood sends you into bliss. You have never wanted anything more than to get revenge on that cheating son of a b***h. Victory is yours. You see your reflection in the Crimson puddle, and smile."
She smiles, "Oh Mr Banks, your making me blush."
Your turned you sights on to the teared up hussy begging for her life on the bed. You start your stroll over to finish off your to do list, the wench was backing off the bed to cower in the corner. You start thinking to yourself what part of her tear streaked face is your first blow going to go. You reach her, straddle her shaking sobbing body and swing away. You hit her and her, until she is unrecognizable."

"I told you dame, I'm a good dick. I know the who, what, when, why, and where. The jig is up Vic."
"Mr banks, you are exactly right. Right down to the letter. How on earth did you ever figure it out?"
I went over to her, grabbed her by the waist and looked the vixen in her sea blue baby eyes.
"Because....you did it just like I told you too."
I gave her a kiss that would make a blind man blush.
"Let's go home."