Murders by Midnight

By Mitch Dagen

After reading her deceased grandmother's diary, a woman decides to avenge the wrongs done to her by a past lover by killing all of his children.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Mitch Dagen
• Release date: Feb 8, 2012
• ISBN: 9780987916709

Mitch Dagen

Mitch Dagen of French and Lebanese descent graduated from Rosemount High School in Montréal in 1976 with a High School Diploma. For the past 32 years he has worked for Canada Post in Montréal. He took a few Creative Writing courses plus a Fundamentals of Fiction course. He started writing this novel in 1993 from a simple paragragh that was stuck in his mind. From that arose this novel. In recent years, Mitch took his writing more seriously and finally got around to finishing it. This is Mitch’s first published book. Mitch lives in Montréal with his wife.

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Murders By Midnight

Mitch Dagen

Published by Mitch Dagen at Smashwords

Murders by Midnight

Copyright 2012 Mitch Dagen

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Cover Illustration by Heather McGrath Design

Editing by Scripta Word Services, Marg Gilks

http://www.scripta-word-services.com/

Dagen, Mitch 1959 –

Murders by Midnight / Mitch Dagen. - 1st Ed.

* * * *

To my wife, Jacqueline; without her wisdom and encouragement, this work would have never seen the light of day. Gracias mi amor. Te amo mucho, hasta a la muerte.

This novella wouldn’t have been possible if it weren’t for the guidance and support of my editor, Marg Gilks. Thank you for your patience and kindness.

This tale began with one paragraph that stuck in my head. Not being a writer, I still jotted that paragraph down. I then started building around that with much help from Marg, and the work you see before you is the end result.

I hope you enjoy the story as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Murders

By

Midnight

Mitch Dagen

But it doesn’t take much to see that the problems of three little people don’t amount to a hill of beans in this crazy world.

Humphrey Bogart

in Casablanca

PROLOGUE

Adelaide heard the gas lawnmower’s engine growing louder as Hans came around the corner of the house. She wasn’t ready to see him yet. She was still too upset. She remained seated on the front steps, her face buried in her hands.

Adelaide, what’s wrong? she heard him call, and the roar of the mower’s engine quickly grew louder as he hurried over to her.

She lifted her head to look up at him, pushing her long, curly black hair away from her face. His worried expression made him look much older than his fifteen years. She sniffled and wiped the tears from her eyes and cheeks with the back of her hand. I’m sorry, she sobbed. I really am.

Hans shut the mower’s motor off and walked over to stand in front of her. Why are you sorry?

Her heart balked at the words she’d have to say next. I have to end this, she reminded herself sternly. It is not healthy, for me or for him. She wiped away another tear with her finger and said softly, We cannot continue like this, Hans.

Hans’ eyes never left her face as he absently swatted a mosquito that had landed on his dimpled chin. He was frowning, his eyes dark with confusion. What are you talking about?

Another sob escaped Adelaide. She struggled to keep her composure. You know what I mean, she said. It isn’t good, what we are doing. I’m married, and I cannot leave my husband.

Hans raised his arms in the air in disbelief, his muscles bulging as he curled his hands into fists. I don’t believe what I’m hearing! he shouted. We love each other. You know that I love you, and you always tell me how much you love me.

The tears had dried. Now that she had finally told him, she felt a bit relieved. I know, she sighed, but it must stop. I cannot live like this—lying all the time.

Leaning forward, Hans took her delicate shoulders in his hands and looked her in the eye, gently shaking her shoulders for emphasis as he said urgently, Then let’s leave, get away from here. We can go far away and start our lives together.

I just can’t leave like that! Adelaide exclaimed. I have a husband here, a great life—everything I could wish for.

Hans released her shoulders and straightened, now indicating himself with both hands. I can give you all that, Adelaide, he said in a low voice.

No, you can’t, Hans, she insisted, her voice gentle. You’re fifteen years old. I’m twenty-five. You tend people’s lawns and do household chores. I am upper class—my husband’s a well-known lawyer. If I run away with you, he will destroy me—he’d destroy us. Overcome with the futility of it all, she dropped her face into her hands again and crumpled into sobs.

If we love each other, nothing can stop us, Hans insisted.

I have to end this, Adelaide thought. Lifting her head, she yelled, I don’t love you!

He gaped at her a moment, then yelled back, I don’t believe you!

Adelaide sighed. I can’t tell him the reason why I have to stop seeing him. I just can’t continue, she said, not meeting his gaze.

Hans put his hands on his hips. Why?

Please, just go. Go. Arm outstretched, she swept her hand to one side as if brushing him away.

Finally realizing the finality of it all, Hans fell on his knees in front of her and wrapped his arms tightly around her waist. Please, he groaned, no. . .

Adelaide burst into tears. His arms moved around her shoulders as he tried to console her. She pulled back and took his face in her hands, the tears falling unheeded on her cheeks. Sobbing, she said, I cannot leave my husband, Hans. I just can’t. You will not be able to care for me.

His expression grew desperate. Yes, I promise, I will! he insisted. Please don’t do this.

I must tell him. I have no choice. Drawing a deep breath to steady herself, Adelaide closed her eyes and shouted, I am pregnant with your child. She cried even harder.

He lifted her face to look into her dark blue eyes. Through her tears, she saw the love in his eyes. Then that’s more reason to leave with me, he said in an even voice.

She shook her head vehemently. No. I will never leave my husband. Go, Hans. Now. Don’t make this harder than it already is.

Hans dropped his head onto her lap for a moment. Then he got to his feet. He took one last look at her, then walked away, leaving the lawnmower sitting on the lawn. His shoulders hunched as if he had lost all hope, he never looked back. Adelaide silently watched him leave, tears streaming unnoticed down her face.

A Few Weeks Later

Hans stepped up to the door, raised his finger toward the doorbell, then hesitated. He did love her, and knew that he had to do something, but—his finger stopped in mid-air and stayed there for what seemed like minutes. Finally, drawing a nervous breath, he rang the doorbell. He heard footsteps approaching on the other side of the door, and cleared his throat.

The door opened a crack and Adelaide’s face appeared in the gap. Hello, Adelaide, Hans said coldly,

Her shocked gaze travelled down his perfectly tailored suit, then returned to his face as she whispered, Hello. What brings you here?

Hans held out an envelope and she opened the door a bit wider to reach for it. Her hand brushed his as she took it from him. Their eyes met, but she quickly turned her eyes away. She snatched the envelope back inside the door without looking at him.

I wrote you a letter. I just thought you would like to read it before I leave, he said.

She was staring at the envelope. At mention of him leaving, she looked at him in surprise. Where are you going? She waved the envelope in air, and spoke louder. What’s all this about?

Hans smirked. Well, read it and let me know what you think. Without waiting for her to comply, he turned and skipped down the stairs, two at a time. I left my phone number so you can reach me, he yelled over his shoulder. I think it would be in your best interest to do so.

He turned his eyes forward again without saying goodbye, continuing with his confident act even though his heart was beating so hard, he thought it would burst from his chest, just from the excitement of seeing her in front of him again. But mingled with that excitement was sadness. He felt a tear roll down his face as he strode away, and hunched his shoulders and jammed his hands into his pockets, trying to hide the sadness that pierced his heart.

* * *

Still standing in her doorway, Adelaide tore open the envelope