The May Day Murders (29 page)

He saw the kitchen light come on and
waited another five minutes before making his way down the hill to
the fringe of the side yard. As expected, Cindy hadn’t turned on
the outdoor flood lights which would have lit up the grounds
surrounding her house like a Christmas tree—he had since learned
that she only turned them on whenever she planned on being out of
town for more than a day at a time. Stanley began slinking
diagonally across the lawn in the direction of the back door
situated at the far corner of the house near the spacious patio,
just beyond the swimming pool. As he passed furtively by the
kitchen window, Stanley peered inside just long enough to spot the
freshly opened bottle of Johnny Walker Red sitting on the counter
near the sink, then resumed moving nimbly around the pool, onto the
patio and up the steps leading to the back door.

Stanley reached inside his coat pocket
and took out a key, then silently stuck it into the keyhole and
turned. The dead bolt slid free with a crisp click that he knew
would be inaudible in the den. He took out a pair of latex
examination gloves from his pocket and pulled them on before
turning the brass doorknob, silently pushing the door open with his
other hand. Once inside, he inched the door closed, locked it, and
waited for his eyes to adjust to the weak light in the room before
advancing any further.

Jenkins strode across the room to the
hallway and turned right, passing the study and a spare bedroom
along the way. When he reached the dining room, he crept slowly
through it and around the corner to the doorway leading into the
den. He froze for a moment just outside the den and could hear the
television set—it sounded like Cindy was watching a rerun of
Roseanne. In another moment he could hear the clinking of ice cubes
in a glass as Cindy Fuller took a long sip from her drink. Little
did she know, he thought, that it was to be her last.

He entered the den and stood for a
moment, staring at her. She was sitting on the sofa directly across
the room from him. She was still wearing the same outfit he had
seen her put on that morning—a matching navy blue skirt and jacket
and white blouse: standard fare for the professional woman of the
nineties. Cindy’s eyes were glued to the T.V. screen and she held
her drink lovingly in both hands with her feet propped up on the
coffee table. She suddenly started laughing at one of Darlene
Connor’s one-liners and in the process happened to see Stanley
standing there. At first she merely froze and her jaw dropped,
unable to utter a word. Then he saw all the color drain out of her
face as he started walking slowly and methodically toward
her.

“
Hello, Cindy—long time no
see,” he said cheerfully as he strode across the room.

Cindy instinctively bolted up from the
sofa, spilling her drink. “Who are you? And what are you doing in
my house?” she sputtered, terrified.

Stanley continued pacing steadily
toward her. He was only a dozen feet away from her now. “Why Cindy,
I’m disappointed in you. Don’t you recognize me?”

“
No, I don’t!” she uttered.
Stanley watched the drink that was swashing back and forth in her
violently trembling hand with delight as she spoke.

He continued his steady gait across the
room until he was directly across the coffee table from
her.

“
Let me give you a few
clues,” he said, the crooked smile never leaving his face. “The
last time you saw me was about twenty years ago at Fountainhead
Tech. I was the guy you absolutely refused to go out with because
you thought you were too good for me. I got angry with you since
you rebuffed me, so I set fire to your dorm room, hoping to put an
end to your unyielding existence. But unfortunately for me, you
weren’t in your room at the time like you were supposed to be and I
ended up bungling the whole mission. But, my dear, sweet Cindy, it
was in a way unfortunate for you as well. Because I think you would
have much rather exited this world that way than the way I have
planned for you now.”

Cindy Fuller was by now absolutely
mortified with fear as she stood there frozen like a statue, an
expression of incredulous horror on her face. Stanley continued
standing where he was, only the breadth of the coffee table between
the two, his smile never waning for a moment.

“
No!” she cried as she tried
to make a run for it. In an instant, Stanley turned to his left,
grabbed her arm and threw her onto the sofa.

“
I see now that your memory
has returned,” he said in calm, controlled voice as he stared down
at her. “And if you try to pull another stunt like that, I’m not
going to be responsible for what I might do to you. Am I making
myself clear?”

Cindy nodded slowly, tears welling up
in her eyes.

“
That’s better.” He leaned
down and stroked her blonde hair. “Please don’t cry, Cindy—you’re
messing up your makeup,”

Stanley sat down on the edge of the
coffee table and stared into her eyes as he ran his gloved fingers
through her shoulder-length hair. His expression was
pensive.

“
You still look wonderful,
Cindy, if you don’t mind my saying so. You’ve aged quite nicely, in
fact. Same thick, golden hair, same gorgeous blue eyes, and from
what I’ve seen—practically the same sweet body you had back in the
old college days. It almost seems like a shame to let such a lovely
creature go to waste.”

He paused a moment, then said, “So
here’s what I’m going to do. I’m going to give you another chance.
That’s right, Cindy, I’m going to afford you the opportunity of
deciding once again if you’re too good for me. In other words, are
you going to be a willing participant or am I going to have to beat
you into absolute submission to have my way with you? The decision
is yours.”

Cindy began convulsing violently as
Stanley sat there, continually stroking her hair. She literally
could not find her voice. He then placed both of his hands on her
shoulders as a token gesture of comfort and stared expectantly into
her eyes.

“
Well Cindy, what’s it going
to be?”

She looked away a moment then back at
him. “What are you going to do to me, Stanley?”

He smiled at her, his eyes cold as
steel. “It’s what I may not do to you that you should be concerned
with, darling.”

Cindy Fuller’s expression became
imploring.

“
Please don’t kill me! I
have two small children! I’ll do anything you ask—but please don’t
kill me!” she cried.

Stanley chuckled triumphantly. “That’s
both a very prudent and inviting offer, Cindy, but you haven’t yet
answered my question. Do you still think that you’re too good for
Stanley Jenkins? Or are you beginning to see him in a different
light? Tell me Cindy. Are you impressed with what you see
now?”

She nodded slowly. “Yes, Stanley. I
am.”

“
Say it, Cindy! Tell me you
regret ever being such a bitch to me back at Fountainhead! That you
now realize what a stupid mistake you made!”

Cindy was hysterical. “I’m sorry,
Stanley!” she cried desperately. “I should have gone out with you
but I didn’t because I’m a bitch and I’m really sorry that I didn’t
do it now!”

A huge smirk came to Stanley’s face.
“Excellent! You know, Cindy, I almost believe you actually mean
what you just said, but my better judgment tells me that you’re
only speaking out of fear and desperation. I need to be convinced
that you’re really sincere. I want you to show me that you’ve truly
learned your lesson.”

His hand went to her breast for a
moment, then he withdrew it. Cindy flinched and a look of dread and
revulsion showed in her eyes.

Stanley chuckled, “I’m beginning to
sense that your heart isn’t really in this, Cindy. Perhaps I should
just kill you instead of wasting my time.”

She grabbed his sleeve. “No, Stanley,
please!”

He stared at her expectantly. She said,
“What do you want me to do?”

His expression softened and he smiled.
“The county doesn’t pay you $95.000 a year to be stupid, I
see.”

He stood up and declared. “I want you
to perform for me, Cindy. That’s all.”

Cindy looked up into his eyes
questioningly. “What do you mean?”

He replied, “I want you to just sit
there where you are for a moment or two and then I’ll tell you what
I want you to do. And I may as well caution you right now not to
try anything foolish like running away. I’m in peak physical
condition and can run ten miles a day without breaking a sweat. You
got it?”

Cindy nodded, her face white as a
sheet.

Stanley winked at her then turned and
strode over to the television and switched it off. He went to the
other end of the room near the doorway and faced her again. He
removed the nylon bag slung over his shoulder and opened up a
compartment, took out a Polaroid camera and tripod, then tossed the
bag aside. After pulling out the legs of the tripod as far as they
would go and tightening them, he attached the camera to the base
and adjusted the height by means of the crank arm until the camera
was up as high as his chin. He looked through the viewfinder at
Cindy sitting on the sofa and moved the tripod in closer toward her
until he was satisfied with the composition. Then he stepped back
and looked over the room to ensure himself that he’d picked the
best angle of view attainable, then breathed a long sigh of
satisfaction.

“
Stand up, Cindy,” he
commanded.

Cindy had to grasp the arm of the sofa
to steady herself as she arose to her feet.

“
Now come around to the
other side of the coffee table and stand there.”

Cindy’s eyes were on the plush
carpeting as she stepped out from behind the coffee table, went
around to the front and stood there as still as she possibly
could.

“
Raise your head and look at
me,” Stanley ordered, peering through the viewfinder.

Cindy raised her head and looked toward
him.

“
Will you quit fucking
crying for chrissakes!” he snapped. “You’re makeup is
running!”

Agitated, Stanley reached into his coat
pocket, took out a Kleenex, then went over and began dabbing
Cindy’s face in an effort to clean off her mascara-streaked eyes
and cheeks. Her head bobbed and quivered each time he touched her
and the rest of her body trembled violently.

“
I wish you would relax,
Cindy. There’s nothing to be afraid of. Don’t you want to look good
for the camera?”

I … I’m trying,” she moaned,
avoiding his eyes.

“
There now, that’s better,”
he said, standing back and looking her over.

Stanley returned to the camera and
looked through the viewfinder. After making a slight adjustment,
he said, “Now, Cindy, remove your clothes …
slowly.”

“
What?”

“
I said to take off your
clothes.”

Stanley continued to watch Cindy
through the viewfinder as she stared at the wall and began
fidgeting with her jacket. Then she suddenly threw her hands up in
the air and peered over at him.

“
I can’t do it!”

Stanley jumped back from the camera.
“Yes, you can, Cindy, and you fucking
will
do it, by
God!”

With that, he stormed over and raised
his hand as if to strike her then stopped himself. His rage abated
and his expression grew calm again.

“
Listen, Cindy. We don’t
have all night so I want you to listen closely to what I have to
say. If you want to live to see your kids again I suggest that you
do exactly as I say. I just don’t understand you gorgeous fucking
women! Here you are, with your beautiful bodies and all the things
you put yourselves through to keep yourselves that way. Then a man
comes along and asks you to show him what you have and you suddenly
clam up on him! Now does that make any sense? I’ve seen you in
various stages of undress already, so what’s the big problem here?
Ha! You didn’t even know that, did you? That’s because I’m
good—really good. You haven’t even had an inkling that I’ve been
observing you for the past two weeks have you? Well, I have. I’ve
seen you in your bathroom taking a bath, in your bedroom getting
dressed in the morning, and even in your pool skinny-dipping in the
middle of the fucking night. And guess what—I’ve seen you screwing
the mayor, too! Bet you thought that was some kind of big secret,
didn’t you? I can tell by your expression right now that you’re
shocked by all of these revelations, but like I said, I’m good. So
I already know what you got there, Cindy, and I want to see it
again.
Now!
So are you going to start taking off those
clothes for me or am I going to have to fucking do it for
you?”

Cindy was absolutely dumbstruck. She
wanted to protest but realized it was useless. She looked around
the room for a moment, as if to suddenly discover a miraculous way
out of this situation, which she knew didn’t exist. She then looked
at Stanley Jenkins in utter defeat and nodded her head
slowly.

“
Excellent!”

Stanley returned to the camera. He
peered though the viewfinder once again and stared as Cindy Fuller
removed her jacket. Her eyes avoided the camera when she let the
jacket drop to the floor and began unbuttoning her
blouse.