A Murderous Revenge

A

MURDEROUS

REVENGE

Perley J. Thibodeau

The following story is a part work of fiction, and partly a story of nonfiction.

I’ll let the knowledgeable reader decide which is which.

TALES OF MYSTERY

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Copyright © 2016 Perley J. Thibodeau

Smashwords Edition

TABLE OF CONTENTS

1: IF I HAD MY LIFE TO LIVE OVER

2: STARTING WITH A PHONE CALL

3: HERE WE GO AGAIN

4: MURDER HAS COME TO CALL

5: DOWN MEMORY LANE

6: LULU TALKS TO GORDON’S FAMILY

7: SURPRISE VISIT

8: ANOTHER TALK RADIO APPEARANCE

9: ANOTHER HOT GRILLING

10: REMEMBERING BACK WHEN

11: THE SHOW MUST GO ON

12: A VISIT FROM A LONG LOST SOUL

13: HERE WE GO AGAIN

14: QUESTIONS BUT NO ANSWERS

15: SHOW TIME

16: A DUET FOR TWO

17: RANDY AND LULU DECIDE TO PART

18: SUDDEN SHOCKING NEWS

19: UPDATING GORDON AND JAMES

20: ANOTHER STRANGE CALL

21: REMEMBERING BETTER TIMES

22: GROTTO CASCADE PARK

23: WRAPPING THE MATTER UP

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR

CHAPTER 1

IF I HAD MY LIFE TO LIVE OVER

Using all the energy she can muster as she stands singing on the spotlighted small platform that serves as a stage in her friend’s New York City Nightclub, LuLu is concentrating on the song lyrics she’s performing at this present time, trying to forget that this is the last night’s presentation of her week’s engagement at this club.

The atmosphere of the intimate cafe with its small tables scattered around the darkened room, and the rapt attention the drinking customers are giving to her act, plus the ever comforting feeling of the warm lights on her carefully made up face, and shimmering sequined long gown, give her extra impetus to give this very last song of her act’s set all the intense concentration that her years of stage experience has taught her.

"As I review my life with you

Since the days of old

I wouldn’t think of changing things

For all the World and its gold

If I had my life to live over

I’d do the same things again

I’d still want to roam

Near the place we called home

Where my happiness never would end

I’d meet you when school days were over

And we’d walk through the lanes we once knew

If I had my life to live over

I’d still fall in love with you

I’d meet you when school days were over

And we’d walk through the lanes we once knew

If I had my life to live over

I’d still fall in love with you

Yes, if I had my life to live over

I’d still fall in love with you"

The last words of the song’s stanza has her stretching her arms opened wide to encompass all of the audience who are sitting in the semi dimly reflected light of the stage spots, and this sincere gesture on LuLu’s part doesn’t come off as being theatrical, but completely sincere in its offering. The room being filled with loyal LuLu fans who have returned again to enjoy her latest show bursts into a riotous round of appreciative applause, as she stands taking her bows to acknowledge her deeply felt love for the people present, and all who aren’t able to be there this night, but who also watch her perform on television, listen to her on her radio interviews, and buy the number of books that she has written and are being actively sold in both paperback, and e reader form.

I love all of you, darlings.

She now directly addresses the happy smiling and applauding audience who are still applauding loudly, many of whom are beginning to stand to give her one last standing ovation, knowing that it will be a while before they can experience her one woman female impersonation show again.

I’m going back to my Bangor club to perform for a week, and then I’ll be back in New York City where I do all of my book writing. I have a myriad amount of books blocked out that I have to finish for publication, so there isn’t any rest period for me, but is relaxation, none the less, in knowing that in each form of endeavor I am fully communicating directly with all of you who I am proud to say are my devoted fans.

This elicits even more applause, as she waves and leaves the small low platform stage for the last time in an, as yet, unspecified amount of time.

CHAPTER 2

STARTING WITH A PHONE CALL

LuLu just about has time to get her eyes accustomed to the darker visions of what she sees after the glare of the stage lights has been turned off, and she has returned to her small dressing room in the New York City night club where she has now just finished the last song of her act, thus concluding her week’s engagement there.

Her cell phone’s sudden ring, insisting that the call be answered, jumps her slightly as she sits down at her small dressing room make up table, and once again her eyes are assaulted, this time by the glare of the naked light bulbs that ring her mirrored reflection before her.

Hello. She says, thankful that she hasn’t smeared her face with greasy make up remover before the call has come, and has had time to come down from the adrenaline pumping high that is always required to be in force in order to begin, sustain, and finish the ending of any performer’s act.

All of these thoughts are running lightly through her mind as she feels grateful that she’s in a mood to talk on the phone for as long as it takes to finish the call with whoever is calling.

LuLu? A soft woman’s voice responds with a slight Maine accent that matches her own, and this frightens her temporarily, causing her to immediately think that something has happened to her young friends, Gordon and his special friend James, at the Bangor nightclub they manage for her, and this person is calling to relate the tragic news of such.

Yes, she barely croaks in expecting the worse.

I understand you are thinking about selling your Bangor nightclub, and I’m strongly interested in finding out the details, and if they are justified, I am in a good position financially to make you an offer for it’s sale.

Are you a real estate broker? She asks, both relieved that nothing drastic has happened in her hometown, and that some unknown someone may be interested this soon in acquiring the club that she has only just been mulling over the thoughts of selling.

Heavens no. The female voice answers her query. I’m a business person who has an interest in owning a nightclub in Bangor, I heard from around town that you might be interested in selling yours, and I got your cell number from the club manager, and I’ve decided to call you direct about this matter.

Oh? She hedges, thinking that this could well be a disguised front for her longtime stalker who still bothers her, the latest being to steal copies of her paperback books from the Bangor Public Library by obviously using phony names to check them out, and not returning them.

Gordon. The voice returns a satisfactory reply. I was in town and I stopped by the club, and he was telling me, in a very disappointed tone of voice, that you were considering the club’s sale, but…… She goes on to hurriedly add. Please don’t think it dangerous of him to be giving me your private cell number, and not your New York landline number, as I’ve assured him that I’m not a crank caller who would use that personal knowledge to bother, or hurt you.

Thus assured, LuLu more or less relaxes into the proper tone of voice that the caller has already established the call as being legitimate in.

I know Gordon and his friend James wish to own the club, but circumstances being what they are, with his father being a respected local minister and all, it makes it difficult for him to both convince his father that the whole ownership agreement would be a reputable one, and also to acquire the funds necessary to purchase it.

This all being revealed to the mysterious caller as a means to keep her talking until LuLu can establish a rapport between them that would cause the caller to feel comfortable in revealing her identity.

Yes, the caller agrees. I have kept up with the goings on in Bangor enough to understand what has been happening lately. The local online newspaper, which only talks about past long dead drunks, and present dope pushers and their users. She adds. However, I do read the online Face Book blog that you subscribe to, and, I must confess that I have read each and everyone of the books you have written, about both Bangor and New York City.

So you are the person who buys my books. LuLu pokes a jest regarding her literary career.

Oh, I’m sure there are many many more fans of your storybook writing career. The voice now sounds more relaxed.

There are, LuLu agrees. I just don’t want people thinking that I’m rich and successful, and to get jealous enough to stop purchasing my writings.

We can’t stop people from what they want to think. The caller sounds experienced in the subject that she has just stated. But tell me, LuLu. To get back to the reason for this call, is it possible for the two of us to get together at your Bangor Club so that I can become more familiar with its features, business potential, and whether or not we can come to an agreement as to my being able to buy it from you?

I’ve just tonight finished my professional engagement here at this friend’s club in Manhattan, and that means it’s about time for me to pack my comb and tooth brush to head to my native Bangor to check on what has been happening first hand, and to make a stage appearance there. Lulu concedes.

And when will that be? The voice sounds firm in asking for a definite committal.

Well, LuLu quickly estimates the time needed to get ready for the trip to Maine. Tonight is my last night at this club for a while, she goes on to add. So, as it’s being a Saturday Night, and I hate to travel by plane through Logan Airport in Boston on weekends, not that I appreciate traveling through it at any other time, either, she just has to add. I should be in Bangor by Tuesday afternoon at the latest. Barring my accidently tripping over a murdered corpse here in Manhattan, and having to solve the crime to save my own skin, as usual.

Yes, I read your adventure’s, LuLu. The voice agrees. However, I’m sure you won’t be tripping over any dead bodies in the next three days. She slightly chortles. Maybe in New York, but not in Bangor.

On that reassuring note, I’ll say we have a date to meet when I arrive in Bangor on Tuesday afternoon.

Agreed. It will be good to see you again, Louie. The voice says, as the phone connection clicks off.

Oh, dear, she called me Louie. LuLu perplexedly thinks. She must know me, and for a very long time. And darn, I forgot to ask the caller her name. Oh well, I’ll soon enough find out. She’s thinking, as she firmly flips the hinged lid shut on the phone."

CHAPTER 3

HERE WE GO AGAIN

There’s a lady waiting for you in your office, LuLu. James, her young employee, and the light of Gordon’s life, and Gordon the light of James’s life, tells her when she and Gordon enter the club, having newly arrived from the airport, and Gordon is walking behind LuLu while carrying in her small travel bag. She says she has an appointment with you, but I told her you haven’t arrived here yet, and she insisted that she would use the wait in looking around the club.

Give me a minute to catch my breath, and I’ll go in to talk with her. LuLu replies, plunking down on one of the corner table’s bentwood back customer’s chairs, while waving her open hand before her face, as if to stir up fresh air for her to breathe.

Randy stopped in after the woman arrived, and I told him the same thing. James responds, starting now to polish drink glasses while standing behind the club’s long walnut colored bar.

Oh?’ LuLu stops waving her hand as she’s now interested in what James has to say about the two visitors arriving around the same time. Did Randy have a chance to speak to the lady visitor?" She asks.

I really don’t know, LuLu. James slowly responds. I know he said he would write a quick note and leave it on your dressing table, and he would be back later on to see you before tonight’s show.

What do you mean you don’t know? LuLu is trying to sound as if she’s simply asking a casual question, and not grilling him, as she’s not.

"I was busy taking inventory of the liquor supplies, and I had to go down to the cellar storage room to replenish the bar’s empty bottles with fresh ones. I left Randy here while he was quickly writing a note using the bar as a writing desk. When I came back he was gone. Nothing unusual about that, LuLu.

No, she concedes. Not really.

Other than the fact that while I was downstairs, he obviously had finished writing the note, and left it on the bar.

With this stated, Gordon casually picks up a piece of paper next to the cash register and passes it across the bar to James, who is then expected to deliver it across the room to LuLu, as he dutifully does.

He just says that he was here briefly, will be back in time for the show tonight, and his usual; Regards, Randy signature. she vocally responds.

You know he has a habit of coming in and out like lighting. Gordon sounds very much as if he’s defending his good friend James, and his lack of knowledge regarding the course of events while he was busy taking inventory down in the basement part of the building.

Yes, I’m fully aware of Randy’s ever present hurriedness, LuLu lightly groans. It’s been a bone of contention ever since we got together again after having briefly known each other years ago.

We’ve all gotten that message. Gordon bravely ventures to agree.

So, what happened to the lady? LuLu suddenly remembers her fast trip back to the club in order to talk business with the female stranger who had called and wanted to make a offer for the possible sale of the club.

I don’t know, LuLu. All of this had happened within the time span of the past fifteen to twenty minutes. When I came upstairs, Randy was nowhere to be seen, the note was on the bar, and as far as I can imagine, she must still be waiting to talk to you in your dressing room. I know she seemed to be quite of that firm a mind set, so I don’t get the feeling that she would have just simply left without waiting to tell me what her new plans were to see you.

Standing up and turning toward the direction of the back door that leads to the hallway, small employee coffee room, and her dressing room, LuLu beckons to Gordon to pick up her traveling bag, and to follow her, as both to have the slightly heavy bag deposited in her dressing room, and also, added security in case the stranger who called her turns out to be a dangerous person after all.

Well, you have waited for me as I was told you would, LuLu tries to sound light, and yet interested to talk to the woman who is sitting with her back to the entrance door of the dressing room. I’m sorry that you got here early, and that I am late. I hope the circumstances weren’t too much for you to bear.

With no visible or audible sounding response from the white haired women she is talking to, LuLu walks around the chair and sits in her makeup chair, thus facing the person with whom she wishes to speak to.

Have you fallen asleep? LuLu quickly feels stupid in asking that question when she sees the eyes of the woman motionlessly sitting in front of her have the iris’s rolled back up and out of sight, and the scarlet colored lipsticked mouth is agape. Her immediate reaction is to laugh in thinking the woman is playing a game of motionlessness in order to show how long she has waited for her to arrive.

A shock quickly runs through LuLu’s now suddenly shuddering body, as she sees a short handled dagger protruding from the women’s chest, and the blade has obviously been forcefully driven into her chest, precisely in the area of the woman’s heart.

That isn’t red lipstick around your mouth, LuLu again makes a nonsensical assessment, , and finishes it with the astounded words. That’s blood, and you are dead!

There’s no need to tell the woman that, LuLu. Gordon has walked around the chair and is looking down at the gruesome homicidal scene before him. With the calmness still possessing him by not fully comprehending what seriousness he is looking at, Gordon states. I’m sure she knows all that, and now can’t even hear what you are telling her.

I’ll never get used to all these unexpected murders. LuLu states, as she rises from her chair and walks hurriedly to the door, with Gordon following, having been beckoned to do so. Reality has now crashed forcefully into both of their minds, as both stand outside in the small hallway while simply staring at each other in disbelief; both of them equally in a mind and body stunned condition.

I think we had better call the police. LuLu is of a mind now to be able to shakily state.

Yes, LuLu. Gordon weakly replies. I think we had just better do that!

CHAPTER 4

MURDER HAS COME TO CALL

Well, LuLu. It’s happened again. Former Sergeant John Cowan, now Detective of the Bangor Police Department states, as he and LuLu stand in the small corridor that contains her now widely open dressing room door.

I would say that is the obvious case, Detective Cowan. She agrees. And with the promotion you’ve gotten from the previous cases that I solved, I’d say law wise you are doing as well as I have been doing.

‘Only I don’t have published books to prove it."

Then you should start typing. LuLu also doesn’t have any trouble keeping a straight face with this light, but otherwise recognized serious banter.

Cowan now also admits. Yes, because of your skilled work in the previous murders to take place in Bangor, I was promoted to a full detective’s rank.

LuLu, remembering the promotions of O’Neil and Seifert of the Central Park Police due to her successful efforts in stalking and capturing a strangler, as related in her biographical published book, ‘Stalking A Killer, Heigh Ho’ The Merry O’ The Murder In The Dell, says: I am quite cognizant of that fact about myself.".

Okay, LuLu. You now know the procedure well enough to guide me through it. What with your ability to fall across murdered corpses, both here in Bangor, and Manhattan, New York. His face now becoming a mass of professional seriousness. ‘Tell me what you know of this crime.

‘With all the heavy activity from the crime lab going on in the nearby dressing room crime scene, it would be very distracting for the both of us to describe anything, and that goes for the policemen inside the dressing room who are doing their deadly serious work, also."

Right, Cowan says, with note pad and pen in hand. Shall we adjourn to a table in the club where we can talk, and be heard in private?

Sounds like a very good idea. LuLu turns to lead the way the short distance down the hall space, and into the nightclub proper.

When the two are settled into facing chairs placed at an opposite angle with the small round café table between them, Cowan places his official note pad on the table before him, and prepares himself to ask LuLu questions, and to jot the replies down for his official police investigation report.

Again, you’ve stated that you just arrived from the airport after a flight from New York City. You, and your club manager Gordon stopped to chat with James, the assistant manager, and being told there was someone claiming to have an appointment to see you waiting for you in your dressing room, with you leading the way, both you and Gordon started down the short corridor to the back of the building’s architectural layout.

Very good, Detective Cowan. And as I also had begun to tell you, that upon entering the small room, I could see a person sitting with their back to me, and I spoke as I walked around that person and the chair they seemed to be sprawled in. There was no reply, as I saw it was the figure of the woman, of whom I assumed had made an appointment the other night on the telephone to see about her possibly buying the club.

And she was dead. He rightly replies.

Yes, and she was dead. LuLu answers. However, I wish to have it be noted that at first glance of her sprawled in the overstuffed chair, her eyes opened with only the whites showing, along with her red mouth hanging agape, I lightly thought that she was playing a joke on me by feigning death brought about by the long wait she had gone through expecting my preplanned arrival.

And that’s when you decided she was dead. His face remaining expressionless, as he scribbles away on the note pad in front of him.

Only after I noticed that the lipstick on the lower lips was a much darker red, and that it was still dribbling down her chin. LuLu tries to sound patient, knowing full well that what she has to say could well falsely implicate her as being responsible for the then newly discovered corpse. The matter of the short handled dagger with its blade sunk completely into her non breathing chest clinched my quick decision that she was dead.

I see. Cowan mutters, still concentrating on scribbling his homicide provided notes.

As you have been the first to visit the crime scene, after Gordon and I were unintentionally forced to do so, I’d say that you certainly did see. This with just a trace of impatience ringing in her vocal tone of voice.

Just a matter of wrongly used words. He quickly grumbles.

Yes, well words can hang a person, She solemnly states. And that is why I want to make sure you are very careful in your random selection of such, as I don’t wish to be the body swinging from the end of a rope.

I can certainly see how you are able to write books, LuLu. He admiringly states.

Yes, she is forced to agree. Plus the fact that I am reluctantly far more experienced with murder than you’ll yet to ever have a while to be.

Seeming to absently wet the tip of the ball point pen with his moist tongue, and then carefully placing the writing utensil back on the page of the note book, Cowan solemnly asks. How do you spell hostile witness?

The same way you’d spell getting kicked off the force. She utters.

With these words spoken, the mood of both of them lightens considerably.

I’m going to have to speak to Gordon and James as being witnesses both before and after the crime. Detective Cowan states. Are they immediately available to fulfill my request?

Rather than getting up to go to the back of the building, LuLu opens the lid of her cell phone, presses redial, and after the party she is calling answers, she informs them that Detective Cowan wishes to speak to them in the main lounge area of the establishment.

"Cell phones summoning people from the next room, and