Copyright for Murder

By Perley J. Thibodeau

LuLu can't help but finding herself harking back to a previous literary murder case when her newly published author friends start turning up mysteriously executed. But she knows that the one who did the former serial killings has since then been reportedly placed safely behind bars.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Perley J. Thibodeau
• Release date: Mar 7, 2016
• ISBN: 9781310212314

Perley J. Thibodeau

Perley J. Thibodeau was born and lived the first 45 years of his life in Bangor, Maine. He now resides in Manhattan, New York

Book preview

DEDICATED

To

The Late

FRANKLYN LENTHALL

The Late

JAMES WILMOT

Who encouraged me to come to New York City in 1961.

Our Friend

The Late

LILA VORNCHUCK GAYNES

Who helped me get established once I got here.

WE’LL MEET AGAIN

PERLEY

With

LOVE

TALES OF MYSTERY

PUBLICATIONS

U.S. COPYRIGHT © 2012 Perley J. Thibodeau

All Rights Reserved

The proceeding is a work of fiction containing many documented facts.

COPYRIGHT FOR MURDER

CHAPTER 1

AND SO IT IS WRITTEN

It was a particularly grueling night for LuLu as far as writing on her new book was concerned. Full of stops and starts, and a fierce perseverance to finish enough text on at least one outlined chapter to make a total of ten thousand words written so far.

Only at least seventy thousand more words and I can consider I’ve got myself a new manuscript to send off to copyright in Washington, and have an extra for me to keep. She thinks, hopefully.

Turning the word processor off after pressing the save new text feature, she draws in a long breath just to relax her mind, and break the mood of the intense stream of thought that makes up her writing on any subject. She still likes the way she manages to outline each event into separate chapters just enough to go back to any particular section of the on screen manuscript, and fill in the chapters like a child with crayons filling in the lines of a coloring book.

I swear it’s costing more for printing, postage and copyright fees now than what I’m getting out of all this. Especially when I stop to consider the time involved in writing the books. She’s now thinking, with a heavy sigh. Well, I really can’t add in my time as what would I be doing if I weren’t putting screen ink on the monitor in front of me? Her answer comes quickly to her with the well reasoned answer. I’d be reading books.

Deciding to check the hometown library and the New York Public Library to see if her books are being taken out, she opens the web browser page but decides to type in her own name instead to see all the online and book stores around the world that must now be carrying her books, including the latest one that has just been published. It’s with a slight apprehension that she sees her latest book has a note declaring one review has been registered. She’s hoping it’s a good review, But then again maybe somebody didn’t like it. She frets, as she opens the webpage further. It’s then that she remembers with a start that the night before she had done the very same thing she’s doing now, and had read an unflattering review for her book that was three previous tomes to the new one.

Seeing the one out of five stars that now deviously decorates part of the page, she opens the review to read it once again, and to see the reply that she had left the night before.

Read in February, 2012

Joel Landry

There is no kind way to say this. LuLu you need a copyeditor. And the fact that you apparently don’t know this is all the more reason why you urgently need a copyeditor. Hire the appropriate support staff.

She goes on to read her added reply.

Read in February, 2012

I should think that it would be difficult to critique a book that hasn’t been read. Now read the book!?

Read in February, 2012

I did indeed read through the book. All three of your books, Ms. LuLu. You have stories to tell and an entertaining voice, but you are not going to find an audience if you don’t find a copyeditor. Hire the appropriate support staff.

Infuriated all over again, LuLu had continued the postings as a way to prove that she had won the uncalled for nasty replies.

Read in February, 2012

"I have a copy editor and it’s called Microsoft Word Processor 2003. My works have also been very carefully watched by my publisher. and other readers have told me that they liked and enjoyed reading them, including my heart doctor, eye surgeon and the head librarians in three major cities that have them on their open book shelves, and have eagerly told me to send them copies of all my future books for cataloging. I have no idea what you are talking about as to a copyeditor as the title is two separate words Copy Editor-Just like Head Honcho is.

I appreciate hearing from readers in a constructive way however, I am busy finishing up my latest Louie/LuLu Murder Mystery for publication, and I don’t have time to correspond with anyone on a regular basis. Thank you for reading my books and I hope that you continue to do so. However, please reread The Stalker Pressed Send," and also realize that I don’t feel the need to, and so I’m not in the market to hire an entire editorial staff at this time.

Sincerely

LuLu.

Seeing with satisfaction that the nasty poster hasn’t added anything to the sight in the following twenty four hours, she now feels like a masochist in bringing up the saved literary review letter she had gotten as an e mail that day. She sees once again that it’s about various gay authors, and the books they have published, and prominent among them is an article about this Joel Landry that sounded completely belligerent, and as nasty as the letter that he had posted to the book site the night before.. In the article interview he had stated that he made a living at his writing, and he abhorred the new idea in publishing to make the self published books an alternative available to new authors. He claimed that authors should go through regular channels with known publishers, as, ‘Giving them a chance to publish their own books is comparable to giving a pair of sharp scissors to a moronic child.’ "

LuLu now sees with great satisfaction the printed posting that she wrote in the comment box under this article that was obviously written by an acquaintance of his, or most likely using a phony by line name; himself. I got an unasked for bad review from Landry on one of the three most recent books I wrote. I really don’t feel he should be publicly trashing the writings of other authors. I don’t feel he’s much credit to this gay writer’s organization when he uses and represents their name, either. And furthermore; My four books are all placed on the shelves of three leading libraries in three major north eastern cities which include The Bangor Public Library, The Fogler Library at The University of Maine; Orono, and three branch libraries of The New York Public Library For The City of New York. I also have them cataloged in the Lesbian Gay Bi Sexual, and Transsexual Center’s Library here in Manhattan. I’d say it’s tough to knock success!

For good measure she also now types in and prints a new message to the site that says Jealousy is a terrible sickness. Have you sought professional help about your problem?

He’s probably sobered off in the interim and having done so his uncontrolled jealousy has abated also. He probably doesn’t even remember having destroyed a web page concerning my book. She’s thinking, but not in any way that would cause her to think more kindly of him.

With this in mind, she reasons that it obvious he didn’t go out of his way to buy her three books, and that he must have gotten them free from the required number she had to submit to this particular literary organization in order to enter the competition for this year’s announced award.

If he got one set of copies of the three books, then that only means one thing, her deductive powers spring into action. He’s one of the four judges for the Gay Mystery Award. With this thought suddenly washing across her mind like a violent and very uncontrollable torrential flood, she is now forced into even further action on the matter. With fierce defensive anger raging in her mind once more, she goes on to pull up her e mail file and presses onto the sent e mails feature. The history shows her the two e mails that she had already sent to the administrator and head board person of the sponsoring group, and she again reads what she had sent them the night before.

Mr. LeBreaux;

Enclosed, please find copies of comments that a Joel Landry wrote on a book review page attached to one of my recent novels. I hope he hasn’t been chosen as a judge in the Literary Awards Competition that I entered. I also hope I recovered my experience and talent in the eyes of anyone who reads his spiteful one star critique. She out rightly told the two officials of the literary prize contest. I get the distinct impression that the three copies that this complainer read were supplied to him through the contest, and that he must therefore be a judge. This forces me to state that he shouldn’t be a judge and should be disqualified for publicly trashing another author’s writings, especially where the three latest books are in the current competition, and the winner hasn’t been announced yet.

As I’ve said, I got an unasked for bad review from Landon on one of the three books I wrote. I also got a message on Face book telling me that the picture of me in a show girl outfit wasn’t needed on one of my novels as the title was enough from a buyer’s standpoint. That shows sheer jealousy on his part right there. No, I really don’t feel he should be publicly trashing the writings of other authors. I also don’t feel he’s much credit to your organization that claims to want to raise the awareness of gay themed literature when he uses and represents its name, either. I hope he hasn’t been chosen as a judge in the Literary Awards Competition I entered. After all, up until now I’d never heard of him!"

Finishing the task at hand, she now takes the time to look him up on the internet’s free encyclopedia, and proceeds to read what he has submitted as a biography, and scoffs knowing that he doesn’t sound qualified to make a judgment on any one else’s works, as his credentials look pretty much below average themselves.

He was a finalist in this literary organization’s annual awards. Probably the last of ten. LuLu thinks comfortingly. Like the Miss Congeniality Award in the beauty pageants. The homeliest girl gets that prize because none of the rest of the contestants feels she’s any competition to them. She gloats. Oh, it says here that Landry has collaborated with several other writers including Alberta Longley, (co-writer of the Nappy Award-winning Hot Desert Passions,) Harold Van Allen, and Jane White. Well, that’s a conveniently disguised falsification right there. She happily discovers. That stated collaboration with one Alberta Longley co writer of Hot Desert Passions makes it sound like she was his co writer on the project. A body not only has to read between the lines on these phony self written encyclopedic offerings, but one also has to read between the word breaks, also." In December 2009, Lanyon’s first foray into spec fiction was published through Sightless Reader Books. Odd Misfortunes Fortune is described as an AU British Raj adventure with romantic and fantastic elements. Isn’t that a restaurant in Australia? She wonders, and then quickly decides. It sounds like a mild case of food poisoning to me.

"Landry’s first novel, Shades of Death, was published in 2000 through the now defunct indie British publisher The Homosexual Reader. Since then he has published with a variety of presses, both electronic and print, including...... She quickly rattles off a bunch of one man backroom printing presses that only proves he’s never been with any kind of an established publishing house, and didn’t even stay with them long enough to sell a book She gloats further., in concluding the phony obviously self written and submitted article before her. Landry currently lives in Los Angeles, California.

Good, she’s now thinking with great satisfaction. He lives in Los Angeles so I’ll never accidently run into him in Manhattan. I don’t think his hitch hiking finger extends that far. This is just why homosexuals will never gain the equal legal rights that they claim they so desperately want. She continues to glower. They are all ready to cut each other’s throat to make sure that none of the others gets ahead of them. It’s the If I can’t do it then I don’t want anyone else to do it either, syndrome. she thinks once again. It’s like the stage director told me years ago.A homosexual has all the bad qualities of a woman with none of their saving graces."

And with that silently said for the umpteenth thousandth time, she feels good knowing that she has just destroyed this mealy mouthed poster, and so she turns the computer off and goes to bed.

CHAPTER 2

I CAN’T HELP IT IF I’M STILL IN LOVE WITH YOU

Dressed in a long silver glittered strapless gown with the skirt’s high left side slit trimmed in red feathers exposing her nylon clad leg, and matching feathers pinned to the hair on the left side of her blonde wig, LuLu is on her way from the dressing room to the performance area in the main part of the club. Halfway there she’s stopped by Jonathon the bartender, who passes her a single long stemmed red rose tied with a thin red ribbon, with a plain white card attached.

This arrived for you a few minutes ago, Jonathon says, as she takes the offering from him. Be careful, LuLu. He warns lightly. All roses contain thorns.

How well I already know, she laughs, as she first smells the perfect single flower and then looks at the attached card. Seeing that the only message is a hastily scrawled one that says, Please sing, I Can’t Help It If I’m Still In Love With You, just for me?

Who delivered this? LuLu asks the retreating bartender, her curiosity as to the identity of the unsigned admirer now captivating her attention.

It was the florist down the street that made the delivery, LuLu." Jonathon says over his shoulder, as he continues to walk back to his station behind the club’s bar.

Stepping up on the low stage area of the main room with the rose and attached card in her hand, LuLu adjusts the floor mike to her level, and says quietly to the piano, steel guitar and drum player. I know we haven’t performed this song in a while, but I want to sing Hank William’s I Can’t Help It If I’m Still in Love With You. With the accompanist’s nod of agreement, LuLu goes on to say into the live microphone. "I was just passed this gift from a secret admirer by the bartender a few minutes ago. They say that a single red rose doesn’t cost much to give and that’s why the tradition dies hard. But it’s the thought that counts, and I believe both the thought and the rose are beautiful to receive. Looking softly at Randy through the glare of the club’s spotlight, she listens carefully for the requested song’s introduction to end, and her cue to start to sing.

"Today I passed you on the street

And my heart fell at your feet

I can’t help it if I’m still in love with you

Somebody else stood by your side

And you looked so satisfied

I can’t help it if I’m still in love with you."

Thinking that the note and floral gift may be from Randy, LuLu plays to him as he now sits in his usual place at the front table, which he does whenever he’s able to attend one of her performances. She notices as she sings that he’s now paying close attention, but there’s a slight questioning look in his normally placid medium blue eyes. She tries to shrug off any thoughts of what he’s thinking regarding the introduction of the song, and quickly comes to the conclusion that just maybe it wasn’t he who sent the rose she’s still holding to her heart. With all this running through her mind, she quickly decides that she’d better concentrate on the feelings of the lyrics to the song being performed if she expects the audience to applaud her vocal efforts at the end of the show.

"A picture from the past came slowly stealing

As I brushed your arm and stood so close to you

And suddenly I got that old time feeling

I can’t help it if I’m still in love with you."

With a curious glance from LuLu this last line has now been delivered directly to the man who has walked into the club and sat down at the table on the opposite side of the room from where Randy is seated. It’s with a start that LuLu realizes the stranger in the tweed sports jacket is her old acquaintance Barry whom she had done summer stock with many years before, and who now writes illustrated movie star biography books. It’s difficult not to keep her eyes on him as she continues the song, while wondering in the back of her mind if it were he who had sent her the rose instead of Randy, as she had first thought.

"It’s hard to know another’s lips have kissed you

And held you just the way I used to do

Heaven only knows how much I’ve missed you

And I can’t help it if I’m still in love with you

No, I can’t help it if I’m still in love with you."

While the three man accompaniment is running through the song again musically as originally staged a while back, LuLu stands still at the microphone, and her thoughts and eyes are still on Barry who is now sitting before her grinning that slow tantalizingly crooked lipped grin that she achingly remembers so well from the very distant past. With the musical interlude over, LuLu sings the words of the song again.

"Today I passed you on the street

And my heart fell at your feet

I can’t help it if I’m still in love with you

Somebody else stood by your side

And you looked so satisfied

I can’t help it if I’m still in love with you."

Trying hard to keep her attention away from Barry as she sings, She keeps looking at Randy, but the look on his face shows that he’s getting steamed at the extra drama that has now been added to the evening’s performance. Now deliberately averting his steely gaze she becomes fascinated by the fact that Barry is now scribbling something on one of the paper cocktail napkins, and her hidden thoughts are asking what he’s writing, as her conscious mind continues on with the familiar words she’s still vocalizing.

"A picture from the past came slowly stealing

As I brushed your arm and stood so close to you

And suddenly I got that old time feeling

I can’t help it if I’m still in love with you."

She’s thinking to cut the performance short by not finishing the reprise, butshe sees the rest of the audience is quietly enjoying her rendition of the song, and so even though Randy abruptly gets up and walks out leaving Barry to sit smiling that slow maddening grin, she’s forced to finish the song to its entire conclusion

"It’s hard to know another’s lips have kissed you

And held you just the way I used to do

Heaven only knows how much I’ve missed you

And I can’t help it if I’m still in love with you

No I can’t help it if I’m still in love with you."

With the