Green Coat, Black Gloves, Red Handbag.

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 This story is now part of my new short story anthology, PASSERBY.

You can purchase a copy HERE

If you like what I do, you can help me to keep on doing it by buying one of my books.

PASSERBY cover png

It’s the middle of Winter and there’s a gun in my handbag. 

Actually there is a lot of stuff in there, but mostly it’s the usual things that a woman carries, until you get to the envelope stuffed with money and the small calibre hand gun. 

The envelope is a pretty shade of light blue and it came from a stationary set that I bought in a little shop in an arcade in Toorak. 

I’d been visiting a friend who had made herself invisible in the previous few months. 

It wasn’t a big deal, I was just trying to do better in the ‘friends’ department. 

I’m a bit slack when it comes to friends so I was trying to make an effort. 

After several tries she eventually decided to meet me for lunch. 

She was very bad company; obviously depressed and just barely able to put on a glad-face. It was painful, but we got through it and we bought each other a writing set. I knew she liked to write letters so I thought it would be a fun way for us to keep in touch. 

I never received a letter from her and a few weeks after our lunch she arranged for her son to come to her apartment. When he arrived he found a note, written on the writing paper I had bought for her, a copy of her life insurance policy and her body, all neatly laid out. 

She’d had enough. 

Her affairs were in order and she simply, left us; almost as quietly as she had lived. 

Her son was evasive about the contents of the note. “Just a goodbye note. Saying how much she loved us, that sort of thing.” 

But, there was more to it than that, and while I was still grieving the loss of my friend I received a visit from a certain acquaintance who had come into possession of some information and if i wanted to make sure that the information remained a secret I was to bring along a certain sum of money to a certain park at a certain time on a certain afternoon.

I’m on my way now. 

It’s cold, but I have my gloves to keep my hands warm with the added benefit of not leaving fingerprints and protecting my hands from gunshot residue. 

Don’t get me wrong, I haven’t actually decided to kill the blackmailing bastard. I may give him the money instead. 

I haven’t decided. 

I may flip a coin. 

I may kill him if it rains, spare him if it’s fine. 

I wonder if he knows that his life hangs on the outcome of a weather report?

He deserves to die for what he did to my friend but that’s not how the world works; people rarely get what they deserve. 

My friend made her choice and she cannot be hurt anymore. 

I have to look out for me.

Putting it simply, I’ll kill him if I think I can get away with it. If the circumstances are such that I can walk away undetected, then I shoot him and I won’t lose any sleep. 

With a bit of luck the park will be emptied by the inclement weather and no one will take much notice of a single gunshot. “I heard it but I thought it was a car backfiring, so I did think much about it, officer”.

The police will go through his papers and see that he was blackmailing a whole host of people, and not just women. They’ll spend months checking all the names and checking to see where everyone was on the day. 

“If I had known I needed an alibi officer I would have made sure I had one, but I was just out shopping and I doubt that anyone would remember me. No I don’t own a gun. No I’ve never fired a gun in my life.” 

The first bit is true and I’ll look very convincing when I say it. 

The gun belonged to a lover from many years ago. He gave it to me ‘for protection’. 

It was mostly him I needed protection from, and some of his hoodlum friends, but once he was gone the threat went away and it cured me of ‘bad boys’ for life. 

A fully loaded .32 automatic seemed like something that might come in handy one day. I kept it cleaned and well oiled. No use having a gun if you don’t look after it.

There is always a chance the gun will misfire, the ammunition is old, but it will give him the fright of his life even if it does. 

I hope I don’t have to burn this coat. 

I really like this coat.

Only one more stop and this tram will be outside the park.

The money or the gun?

As I step off the tram it starts to rain.

 Painting by Kenton Nelson

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Enjoy my work. Then buy me a coffee?

Enjoy my work? Then buy me a coffee?

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20 thoughts on “Green Coat, Black Gloves, Red Handbag.

  1. Terry – You have created a problem for me… I have been looking for ways to place a handgun in Susannah’s bag. How can I possibly avoid even subconsciously plagiarizing your work? And you ask for a pony…

    Liked by 1 person

    • I doubt that I have ever had an original thought, so worries about ‘borrowing’. I think you have something quite special with that story. I’ll be very surprised if it does not take you somewhere…….. possibly somewhere where they have ponies?
      Thank you for your comments. I look forward to more of Susannah’s adventures. In another life she should get a visit from Dr Who.
      Terry

      Like

    • Sounds like you enjoyed it………. good. I like this character…….. mostly ordinary with just a touch of the devil…… if needs be.
      Thank you for you very kind comments.
      Terry

      Like

  2. Pingback: Red Dress. | araneus1

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