Carole Franizzi is proud to present her Great Aunt Agatha Marbles and one of her stories of murder and mystery.
Are you sitting comfortably? Then I’ll begin. My terrifying tale tonight is about the nasty end of a bright young woman….
I was sitting by the fire in my favourite armchair, gazing out across the village green, wondering when I’d have a new mystery to solve, when suddenly the phone rang. It was my dear niece, who sounded most aggrieved.
“Gagged and suppressed!!! Silenced forever!!!”
”Goodness gracious! A sex crime! Tell me, my dear, who was the victim? A friend of yours?”
“My avie, Auntie Agatha! They shut her up for good!”, the girl’s voice was shrill with outrage.
“Maya Vee? Don’t think I’ve met her”, I murmured, pulling thoughtfully at the hairs on my chin wart. “They you say? So it wasn’t a sole perpetrator…that rules out a serial killer….they usually operate alone…”.
I confess I felt a thrill. Blood-baths of all sorts were my hobby, together with flower arranging and baking, and I have to say that tracking down the murderer was almost as exciting as winning first prize at the annual village fete for Best Crumpet in Show. Being invited to view the scene of a crime, with skulls bashed in, limbs hacked off and blood, blood, blood spattered everywhere, although you might think to be highly distasteful and hardly suitable for a lady of my age, was a source of great entertainment for me. I mean, of great interest. Usefulness! That’s it! Of great usefulness in finding out who the murderer was.
“So, tell me dear – you said “gagged”. Are we talking about a ball-gag? It’s very important to establish what sort of sex fiend we’re dealing with. If he used a ball-gag, he may be one of those followers of De Sade, although it’s been my experience that such people usually consume any aggressive feelings they might have with a splash or two of candle wax.
“A ball-gag, Aunt Agatha?? No, no, you’re getting hold of the wrong end of the stick!”
“Oh, a stick!!! So she was bludgeoned to death! How frightful! Poor creature…are there any photos you could show me?”, I enquired hopefully, as clear, detailed, up-close photographs of the victim with the open wound sprinkled with shards of splintered bones and rivulets of dark, dried blood were immensely helpful in understanding the exact nature of the crime.
“Mm?” It was evident that my niece was lost in her thoughts, probably in a state of shock over the violent death of a dear friend. “Erm…no I didn’t get screen-shots…” She tailed off as her mind wandering back to the horrendous crime once again.
“Screen-shots? Maya Vee was an actress then? Good Lord! She wasn’t one of those actresses who perform in films of a sexual nature? My experience tells me that people in those circles are shady characters indeed and the industry harbours a shocking number of psychopaths. This is starting to make sense…”
My own thoughts caused me to trail off as I recalled the Case of the Strangled Stripper, the Case of the Impaled Porn Star and the Case of the Horny Hollywood Hooker. Oh, wait. That last was the title of a film. I do get confused at times. I tried to focus on the case in hand. A young woman, in her prime, silenced forever… The perpetrators must not be allowed to get away with this! I suddenly realised that my dear niece had been talking and I snapped out of my enjoyable reminiscences regarding my favourite scene in the Horny Hollywood Hooker, to hear her splutter indignantly something about “…just like blackmail!”
“Blackmail, you say? Do you suppose they were threatening to tell her family the truth about her new job in the “arts”? Perhaps she rebelled and threatened them with something too! Maybe she was about to reveal the truth about how the male actors manage to keep it up for so long….”
This made sense. I had often timed the duration of intercourse during such productions and had always been highly suspicious of the hour-long copulation. I felt we were making progress. This would be a perfect motive for the crime! The poor dead girl could have shattered illusions all over the planet among devoted porn-watchers! She had to be silenced!
“I have the solution, my dear. Just mention to the police that they might want to check on the owner of the pornographic film company she was working for. I feel certain that if they perform forensic tests on his clothing, it will reveal ample quantities of your poor friend’s DNA.”
“Mm? DNA? Pornographic film company? Listen, Aunt Agatha, I have to ring off now. I have to look for a new forum to post in.”
I totally understood her eagerness to see the murderer in cuffs before heading to Rome for a holiday, so I quickly said goodbye to her, insisting that there was no need to thank me, as Agatha Marbles was always willing to lend her keen mind when there was a murder to solve!
That’s all from this spine-chilling corner of the blog for this evening, my friends. I hope you don’t have too many nightmares…
Bring Back Perma-Banned Forumites, chucked out because they only spoke the truth.
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