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I Want Him Dead Straight
I Want Him Dead Straight
I Want Him Dead Straight
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I Want Him Dead Straight

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Lauren’s latest party sets up her hairdresser friends with Olivia’s visitors and sexual sparks fly. Amidst an explicit tale of physical attraction and exploitation, murder exposes the seamier side of local society. A local businessman is seeking his perfect muse, and another wealthy man is creating a dream opportunity for one of Mirror Images young stylists who is learning how to deal with this adult world. Adult content.

LanguageEnglish
Release dateMar 14, 2019
ISBN9780463086438
I Want Him Dead Straight
Author

Mike O'Sullivan

Mike is an Irish novelist and poet, married and living in Herefordshire England. He was born in Dublin and spent his school years in Cork. In primary school Mike needed to get by the eagle-eyed headmaster who looked hard at his long essays designed to hide the words he could not spell. This carried on further up the line when at UCD the Professor of English likened Mike to another who could not spell, George Bernard Shaw. But Mike made the connection, he did not have to be a genius at spelling.He moved to London in his twenties and has worked in a wide range of industries – music and cosmetics, in oil exploration, mining, insurance, catering, City Finance and Management Consultancy. Mike uses that experience in his novels. When he first arrived in London Mike fell in with a group of three other Irishmen debating the philosophical process of making a million or finding a job that was more like pleasure. Mike found the job, but it would take too long to explain his philosophy here. Mike says that in a sense he had a plan for life and so far it has been working out.His novels often start with an individual battling the system but without a plan of how he or she will cope. Mike believes that social systems and institutions are usually rigid when it comes to change or quick decisions and therefore the individual can become trapped. It takes effort, some courage and guile to walk out into the wider world of individual thinking. He shows that an individual can focus enough to even the odds and come out on top. He often uses humour and comedic situations to make his point leaving the reader to consider the underlying philosophy if they wish. A key element of Mike’s writing is the Irish skill of fast paced conversation as Mike’s overall aim is to entertain his readers.

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    I Want Him Dead Straight - Mike O'Sullivan

    The Hairdresser Murders - 7

    I Want Him Dead Straight

    By

    Mike O’Sullivan

    Copyright © 2019 by Mike O’Sullivan

    No part of this book may be reproduced in any form by photocopying or any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage or retrieval systems, without permission in writing from both the copyright owner and the publisher of the book.

    This is a work of fiction based upon an actual event. Names, characters, places, brands, media and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

    The right of Mike O’Sullivan to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988 and any subsequent amendments thereto.

    Smashwords Edition License Notes

    This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author's work.

    To find out more about Mike O’Sullivan,

    his books and other works, visit www.mike-osullivan.com

    Cover design copyright © Mike O’Sullivan

    Chapter 1

    March 3 - Ross on Wye, Herefordshire, England

    The value of everything was important to Carol who had squeezed herself out of places of not much value and was now a stylist at Mirror Images Hair Salon in Ross on Wye, with a client list that included some astonishing, extraordinary women. These women had chosen her because of her light touches, fancy cuts, innovative styles and the quirky way she had of turning everything into positive. To the other hairdressers she was a little odd but serious fun when she turned it on.

    She was a slight woman of twenty-one, five feet five tall, with long fair hair that had been called dirty blonde by someone who took away a man she had dated twice and with whom she had, because of it, had a turbulent few weeks. She had two outstanding features that men could take to, nice legs, and unusual light green eyes. She was overall pretty. But sometimes that wasn’t enough. Personality meant something. And she was quiet most of the time. But she had decided recently to indulge in life a little more and to do that she knew she had to come out of herself. That didn’t mean being someone else, but it did mean making a splash.

    Carol had decided to do that gradually with her clothes because drawing attention to her slight build would take some courage. She started with shorter skirts, fitted tops and extravagantly coloured shoes. She kept her clothes to primary colours. Intensity she thought would show up more. The only thing she worried about was that despite her improved hair highlights and new make-up, she looked younger for it maybe only sixteen or seventeen. That had it’s drawbacks of which getting served in bars was the oddest and could be embarrassing, with some really creepy men offering to help her out. So she thought she had to find a way to put youthful appearance to her advantage.

    But first she had to get to the places where she could assure herself that straight men existed. She had had a conversation with Sophie and a few of the others at Mirror Images over drinks one Saturday after work at a local wine bar called The Grapes. They took a table in the window at one corner of the bar. Earlier, while still in the salon at the clearing up stage, Sophie had asked Carol what she was looking for in a man. Carol hadn’t hesitated in her reply.

    ‘I want him dead straight.’

    So Sophie and another stylist Louise had offered to help. They thought she needed help. They all called in at the wine bar on their way home before they got ready for Lauren Canning’s party that evening. Lauren was another of the hair stylists at Mirror Images. The idea was that the wine bar would be an interlude before the party at Lauren’s big penthouse apartment at Hope Hall, now famed as the ultimate party venue. Everyone knew Lauren didn’t boast about the fact that she was wealthy. She had once told Carol she wanted to be part of the salon not the country set. But Lauren was part of the country set because of her wealth. Still, Carol thought, she must take everyone’s advice on her first big foray into glossy company so Lauren would definitely be able to help.

    ‘Just what is your idea of straight Carol?’ Sophie who was five years older than Carol and married to a carpenter, asked her.

    But before Carol could answer Louise interrupted. ‘There’s hardly anyone who you could describe as ‘dead straight’ Carol. Men have different sides to them. Setting aside the gay ones and the ones who might wear women’s clothes occasionally, there are straight men who are into religion, porn, playing around, sport, business, and computer gaming, just for a range off the top of my head, and all of those interests might come before women. You might think they are straight. But if for example you hit on a religious nut, you might find that although you might be comfortable in bed, you can’t be compared with God and he might sometimes have to choose between God and you. So do you see where I’m coming from Carol?’

    ‘I see that you could make it more complicated Louise.’

    Sophie added ‘Louise you forgot to mention that some of them have mothers you have to get by before you get to the man. If his mother is against you, and you want to know him better, he could side with his mother and no amount of straightness might get him to you.’

    ‘Are you trying to get me to think again about what I want?’ Carol asked.

    ‘What I think we are both saying Carol,’ Louise tried to point out ‘is that there may be no chance of meeting a ‘dead straight’ man. Take something simple like a straight haircut. He or she might want a straight haircut, but one person’s straight cut might be another person’s nightmare. So when you look at the head you know immediately what they mean by a straight haircut but someone sitting in the next seat might think ‘I better not ask for a straight haircut, in case I end up looking like her.’

    ‘Then what you must take into account is the difference in other people’s perceptions Carol,’ Sophie advised. ‘Smart set blokes will have different needs than say a carpenter when it comes to talking or acting straight. Then there are the military blokes, generals, captains and privates all wanting something different and possibly all of it straight. They could be straight backed or straight laced, stiff and pompous, and yet they might think they are being straight. Even their women might think they are straight while we might think they are just stuffed shirts. So have you got it yet Carol?’

    ‘I think you are trying to dilute my wants in a man, you two,’ Carol responded, not sure of their humour. She hadn’t expected to open up such a discussion because more than anything it was exposing the kind of man she might end up with at the party and they would be looking to see if she had taken their advice.

    ‘Instead of straight, diluted might be the best way of thinking about it Carol,’ Sophie quipped ‘you really can’t get a concentrated man of any kind that would not be better by being diluted. The concentrated version would be too much for you to stomach.’

    ‘Besides,’ Louise added ‘if he was that concentrated he might not notice you.’

    ‘You are going to make me feel self-conscious at the party,’ Carol complained.

    ‘Whose fault is that Carol?’ Sophie asked but answered her own question.

    ‘There could be as few as fifty or possibly upwards of one hundred and fifty at the party Carol,’ Louise advised ‘so we probably won’t get the chance to keep an eye on you all the time. That’s not the reason for us going. And we may ourselves feel a little intimidated but that is half the reason why we look forward to going. It’s one thing having them sitting down in the chair in the salon while we are in charge, but it’s something completely different being face to face and being appraised at a party especially after a few drinks. And believe me you’ll need a few drinks to get by some of the conversation you might get into.’

    ‘So it can be quite frightening too,’ Carol concluded. ‘Still you won’t put me off going.’

    ‘That’s not our intention,’ Sophie responded. ‘We’ll feel a lot more at home with more of us from the salon being there.’

    ‘So what kind of people turns up?’ Carol asked trying her best to pass off the question as a lazy conversation piece.

    ‘I suppose it depends on who’s at home in Ross at the time,’ Louise advised as if she had been to lots of Lauren’s parties when in fact she’d only been to two. ‘Most of the people in the big houses spend their time in London or abroad. You know I once met two Lords in quick succession each trying to charm me. The youngest was about seventy. Maybe he took me for one of the caterers and thought I was on the menu. I was only nineteen at the time. They like us young when they get to that old age. But they could have been straight guys Carol. Even though they hinted at offering something they might not have been able to deliver.’

    ‘And what couldn’t they deliver?’ Carol asked.

    ‘They couldn’t deliver desire in me,’ Louise stated. ‘But they thought their titles would impress and I suppose they thought they had enough charm to compensate.’

    ‘And they really expected it would work out for them?’ Carol asked.

    ‘It might not have occurred to them,’ Louise stated ‘that titles and pensioner’s charm would only go so far.’

    ‘Did the hostess say anything?’ Carol asked.

    ‘Lauren expects that we are all old enough to look after ourselves,’ Louise responded.

    ‘And are we?’ Carol asked.

    ‘Well,’ Sophie took up on the explanation ‘that depends on how many men we come across, straights and deviants. If the answer is none, then we might be flattered by the attention and flirt with anyone we fancy even if they look like bastards. On the other hand it isn’t a classroom where there are rules. Nothing is written down, no rules to follow, you are on your own. One thing I think worth mentioning to you Carol is that with all the hysteria about under-age sex, and being that you now look younger, don’t be put off. Men don’t change and they don’t expect women, even extremely young women, to change either. My younger sister is seventeen and she’s going out with a man who is thirty four. Her friend is only sixteen and she’s picked up a man who we have worked out must be thirty six. So looking young even in this liberal age with all the media hype, doesn’t interfere with men’s needs.

    Louise interrupted ‘But older men do usually know what they are doing and often look after themselves more, especially the wealthier ones. That can make them appealing. But why did you ask about whether we are old enough to look after ourselves? Haven’t you had any brushes with a proper man yet?’

    ‘Well I don’t know if you’d call Dave a brush,’ Carol explained.

    ‘At least brushes are straight,’ Louise pointed out.

    ‘When was it?’ Sophie enquired.

    ‘Two weeks ago at my friend Jane’s. She’d organised this party at her place, It’s just a small apartment. There must have been thirty people there and most of them were men.’

    ‘That’s how l like it,’ Louise exclaimed.

    Carol continued ‘Yes but some of them were old, maybe forty. I didn’t know how forty year olds came to be there. It would be like inviting your father. The women were young, you know from about sixteen to around twenty me being almost the oldest. My friend Jane has a boyfriend and they were doing the food, drink and music. The rest of us mostly drank. I thought on the whole it was quite grown up and then I met Dave. He was one of the older men. He told me he was a managing director of his own company and tried to impress by pointing to his car parked out in the street. It was a Porsche. But you see my friend Katie, who’s only eighteen, went off with a chap in a Porsche after a party only last month and he stopped in a quiet place and wouldn’t take no for an answer. He’d expected her to give in immediately. She resisted to the point of trying to get out of the car. But she said it was all a tight squeeze and she thought he wouldn’t be able to do anything with her. She didn’t want him to drive off and leave her out in the wilds. Eventually he had persisted so much that she gave in just to get it over with in case he turned really violent. She got his car registration number because he hadn’t used a condom and she wasn’t protected. Anyway, you see I knew it could happen in a Porsche. The other thing is that because I look younger in my new clothes, blokes often take me for sixteen and Lauren says that I can sometimes give the impression of actually being sixteen. I don’t want to move in circles of sixteen year olds though.’

    ‘You want a mature man,’ Louise concluded.

    ‘Someone older than me would do,’ Carol responded.

    ‘And forty?’ Sophie put to her.

    ‘Well there’s older and then there’s ancient,’ Carol related ‘and Dave was a bit bordering on ancient.’

    ‘Did you get the tone of that Sophie?’ Louise teased ‘she was at least considering him.’

    ‘Well I thought a few minutes conversation and flirting with a man old enough to be my father might be interesting. It might give me some experience for the future.’

    ‘And if he thought you were sixteen it might have excited you to raise some hopes for him. Is that it?’

    ‘Some men like us young,’ Carol answered looking like she was speaking from long experience and had to defend herself. ‘I wondered how far he would go in a crowd. But I should have known that everyone else was so hung up with each other that they wouldn’t have noticed what went on.’

    ‘So you must have fancied him a bit Carol,’ Sophie suggested.

    ‘Well he wasn’t bad looking and he spoke nicely. His clothes were lovely and he was really trying to impress me. Anyway there wasn’t anyone else around who was interesting so I thought I might learn more by talking with him. He took my interest to be more than I intended, so there was little time to work my way into it and by that time we were in a corner of the darkened room and he had his hands on my boobs and was kissing my neck. You know the full seduction thing and he knew what he was doing. So I took his head in my hands to look right into his eyes to try to work out how he was thinking. He seemed to have the hots for me. I could feel it and he was progressing faster than I could counter him. He’d got his hand up my skirt by then. I was getting a bit worried because it was getting towards midnight and it was pouring with rain outside and everyone was talking of going home. Well to shorten the tale…..’

    ‘We don’t want any abridged version Carol,’ Sophie declared ‘do we Louise?’

    ‘It wouldn’t be fair on us Carol,’ Louise stated.

    ‘Well I realised I had no way of getting home except in his Porsche.’

    ‘And you knew what happened to your friend who took a ride back home in a Porsche,’ Louise added.

    ‘I knew there were several places where he could stop if he wanted so I was thinking as we drove past them that, well, we’d got past that hurdle. But he did stop before we reached my place so I panicked a bit. He said it was only so that he could kiss me goodnight out of sight of my house. Then he started to fiddle with my blouse as we kissed goodnight and he had his hand under my skirt again. Before I knew it he had my knickers nearly off and begged me to let him keep them.’

    ‘Oh yeh,’ Sophie sneered.

    ‘He got all emotional and I’d never been in that position before so didn’t have any idea what to do. He wasn’t hugely strong but he was stronger than me. I wasn’t so much fending him off as talking to him. But I thought he was past any words I could use. He was persuading me over my words. He persisted so much I decided in the end to let him take my knickers off and let him have them. Then far from my expectations of what he would do he just moved his hand inside my tights and you know used his fingers. He told me how beautiful I was and how he would love to see me again. He said lots of things that were all romantic and flattering, like in the movies. And I thought it would only take one more thing for him to fall in love with me.’

    ‘So how long were you in that position with him Carol,’ Sophie asked her.

    ‘Quite some time,’ Carol admitted.

    ‘And he had his hand there all that time?’ Sophie kept up the interrogation.

    ‘So he knew what he was doing then,’ Louise concluded.

    ‘Well yes,’ Carol confessed.

    ‘How did you feel?’ Sophie asked her.

    ‘It was nice,’ Carol confessed.

    ‘And did it finish all right,’ Sophie continued the third degree.

    ‘Well I don’t think I should say. It was just nice that’s all Sophie.’

    ‘Yeh you came. That’s what I meant,’ Sophie confirmed.

    ‘Then what?’ Louise asked.

    ‘Well we looked at each other for about a minute. It was a long time. And I knew that he wasn’t going to do anything else. He was looking at me like he loved me. I don’t know how I could tell, I just could.’

    ‘So here you are in a sports car with an ancient who has your knickers in his pocket and you almost bare to the world in a darkened road, how did you feel?’ Louise asked.

    ‘Well I don’t know. He could have been nasty but he was nice to me. That’s how I felt about him. He was old could have been my father but I just thought that maybe, just maybe, if he asked me I could see him again.’

    ‘Oh Louise, did you hear that,’ Sophie exclaimed. ‘She’s into mature men.’

    ‘Is he married Carol?’ Louise asked.

    ‘Well we didn’t discuss that,’ Carol responded ‘but he gave me his business card and his private phone number so I thought he might not be married. He could be divorced. But that is as far as I have thought about him.’

    ‘How did you feel when you got to your place,’ Louise asked.

    ‘I was surprised how I felt. I felt like I had achieved something.’

    ‘I suppose there is something in it, seducing an older man. I think that is why you felt good Carol,’ advised Louise.

    ‘There is a difference though between his lust and your feeling good,’ Sophie said. ‘I mean it could all turn out all right for the both of you. But you would be dating an older man.’

    ‘I’m thinking about it Sophie. I have his number. He is leaving it to me to call him. Although he knows where I live and could call anytime I think he is leaving it up to me.’

    ‘Does that mean she is in control Louise?’ Sophie asked.

    ‘It could do,’ Louise agreed. ‘That’s a powerful place to be Carol. ’

    ‘You might not want to be,’ Sophie added ‘with someone so ancient. I’ve been thinking,’ she said looking to the ceiling for inspiration ‘of any man about forty that I might fancy but I can’t think of one for the minute.’

    ‘I think maybe it’s different if you never saw him before,’ Louise mused ‘and he just arrived in your life because he fancied you. I think there is a chance that you could be flattered and possibly accept him for the immediate situation you were in.’

    ‘Well I might have been able to accept that at one time I suppose,’ Sophie agreed. So Carol are you going to contact him?’ she asked.

    ‘I haven’t decided,’ Carol admitted. She was holding her glass out in front of her like she was trying to defend her position or that of her man.

    ‘And you weren’t going to say a word to us,’ Louise said almost accusingly, ‘do you feel better for telling us Carol?’

    ‘I think I do,’ Carol admitted. ‘It means somehow that I have spread any decision I take between the three of us, if that makes sense.’

    ‘I can see the sense Carol,’ Sophie confirmed ‘otherwise you could be taking a very lonely decision on your own and feel terrified about the outcome. At least now you can talk with us.’

    ‘So have you got any secrets Louise,’ Carol asked ‘that you might do better to share in case we can better the odds on getting to the right man for you?’

    ‘Not many,’ she replied.

    ‘What about Peter then?’ Sophie reminded her. ‘We have to even things up for Carol.’

    ‘Well it was a drinks do at the Gardener hotel in Ross where this eighteen year old, Peter, came up to me with a glass of Dutch courage and started to chat. I mean you know what a difference of five years makes with a young bloke, we were on different planets. He wasn’t bad looking but his mind was on my boobs from the moment we started to chat. I think why he’d got ahead of himself was that he had gone to public school and thought as a result that local Ross women owed him a grace that just doesn’t exist. I could see he had something between his legs that needed airing and he was having difficulty ignoring it I decided that he had probably had two pints already and was holding his third. But I was not in a hurry to have a hungry male of any age who was lusting after me, move on so quickly so I lingered.’

    ‘A disgrace really,’ Sophie smirked.

    ‘Still I can identify with that,’ Carol admitted ‘the difference is that I look sixteen when I am twenty one and you Louise are twenty-three and look your age, mature I should think to an eighteen year old’.

    ‘And,’ interrupted Sophie ‘you know the clothes you wear at parties make your boobs stand out. I’m guessing they would mesmerise a schoolboy.’

    ‘Given the state he was in, I tried to distract him with talk about boys changing rooms after rugby games and the frequency that they might bump up against one another in the shower room with nothing on,’ Louise recounted. ‘I tried to get him to admit that the statistics say a number of them might fancy each other and did he ever notice because there was certainly one way that would give them away. He was a bit coy about that.’

    ‘I bet,’ Carol muttered.

    ‘Well we went on from there before he could get into any defensive position.’

    ‘That’s a new one on me,’ Sophie giggled.

    ‘Then I moved things on from the hypothetical to the nitty gritty. I decided

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