And Then There Were None

AND THEN THERE WERE NONE

Many thanks to Randi for her wonderful editing. Errors, if any, are entirely mine. No BTB here guys.

The wall clock chimed and Dave looked up. The hands of the clock showed 10 PM. It was late and he was still awake, waiting for his wife to return from her business dinner meeting. In fact, the last few weeks Jill had been having quite a few such dinner meetings.

Jill had told him she was closing some good deals for the agency where she worked. She was arranging advertising for some corporations and showrooms, and these were lucrative accounts. These advertisements would publish in the pages of some prominent magazines, as well as their e-magazine. The agency where she worked had a contract with these companies for getting advertisements from the corporate houses in their city. As Jill had told him once, she was into selling space in the pages of these prominent magazines. If she managed to get some good ones to go on the back cover, then her commission would be that much higher. What she was currently negotiating were some such big commission advertisements.

Jill had excellent marketing skills and was good at her work. In fact, they had met when she visited his office, selling space in magazines related to the IT world. Their attraction was mutual. Dave was infatuated with the tall, slim woman with long, flowing blond hair and a bubbly smile. True to her marketing profession, she could go on talking, trying to convince him his business would grow by taking out advertisements in their agency's client's magazines, as well as in their e-magazines.

Dave began looking forward to her visits and would make some excuse or another for Jill to make another visit. Their meetings moved from his office to meetings over lunch at restaurants, until Jill asked him one day, "Dave, are you interested in my product, or me?"

"Both," Dave blurted out.

Jill gave him her best dazzling marketing smile, and said, "You've made a good choice, sir, on both counts."

That weekend, Jill moved in with Dave. Their daily love making sessions in the bedroom made their bond grow deeper. Jill would be up for anything that Dave thought of in the bed. No kinky stuff, but great, uninhibited sex, yes. Dave loved the way her breasts bounced when his long thick phallus did its magic inside her moist pussy. He loved her womanly scent. It drove him crazy. Jill loved it when he took her missionary style. She would run her hand across his hairy chest, admiring his muscular body as he pounded her to bliss. At 6'1'', dark hair and brown eyes, Dave knew he was not a bad looking fella. The girls he had shared intimacy with were also a good indicator. He was never a womanizer. That jelled with Jill's personality. She was not a virgin when they had sex for the first time. She told him she had had her share of boyfriends, but never a serious relationship till she met Dave.

A year after moving in, the two got married, and the stork got busy in their lives. Two years after their marriage, their daughter Stacy was born. Mason followed suit a couple of years later. Jill stopped working and became a full-time mom. With Stacy almost a teenager and Mason growing up, they felt comfortable with her going back to work.

Dave again looked at the wall clock. He didn't mind a few late nights, but this was becoming a routine. It also bothered him a little that the clothes she wore for these dinner meetings were quite stylish, though not slutty, and he didn't like the idea of his wife being out alone so late.

*****

The bourbon began to have its effect and Dave could feel himself relax. He closed his eyes, going back in time. He saw himself entering the maternity room where his wife was admitted. That day she had delivered their first child, Stacy. Oh, what a happy moment that was. He had been in his office of his start up IT company when his mother had called to say that they were taking Jill to the hospital.

He had immediately rushed over to be with her.

When he looked down at the sleeping bundle of joy in the crib next to Jill, his joy knew no bounds.

"Just like her mother," Dave quipped happily.

"Yes sir, she sure does," his wife replied back in a slow, soft tone.

He hugged his wife and kissed her. Jill smiled back.

Even in her maternity phase, his wife was looking beautiful.

*****

His phone buzzed. Dave glanced at the wall clock. It was 3 AM. He must have dozed off on the couch. This was completely unlike Jill.

It was his friend, Peter Morrison, or rather Detective Sergeant Peter Morrison. He was on the local police department.

"Hello, Pete, what's up?" Dave asked.

"Dave, listen to me carefully. We found Jill's car in a secluded spot in the Jefferson Park neighborhood.

"Where is Jill?" Dave asked, his heartbeat racing.

"I have dispatched one of my men to your home. They will take you to the hospital where we have admitted Jill."

"What happened? Was she in an accident? Is it bad?" Dave asked frantically.

"Just reach the hospital, Dave. I'll meet you there."

Dave quickly got dressed, then woke up Stacy, updated her and told her to take care of things in the house in the morning.

He heard tires screeching to a halt outside their home. He rushed out and got into the police car. The drive was silent, and being quite early in the morning, the roads were empty and they made good time.

Pete was waiting for him at the ICU.

"What happened? How is Jill?" Dave asked worriedly.

"The medics are treating her. Now before you begin asking more questions, I want you to first go inside Jill's ICU room. She is unconscious, and you are really entering with my authority as the doctors don't want her to be disturbed for the next 48 hours."

Dave donned the medical accessories and stepped inside the ICU room. He saw tubes of different sizes running into her nose and mouth; IV fluid was being fed into her through a cannula and the small screen by her bedside had graphs and numbers blinking in different colors. Jill had her eyes closed, her face had lost all color and wore a deathly pallor. He stepped nearer. There were small bites around her lips and neck, and her cheeks bore bruise marks. He was relieved to see no dressing for fractures. He lifted the blanket and he could see that her legs were also not in plaster. Just then, Jill moved in her deep sleep and her hospital gown slipped to expose her right breast. There were red marks all over it.

A knot began to form inside his stomach. Was Jill... was Jill... No, that couldn't be, dammit...

He lurched out of the IDU, desperately holding back the tears welling up inside him, his eyes questioningly looking at the detective. There was something that he couldn't connect. Pete grabbed him by his arm and started walking down the corridor.

"Pete, I rather we be here in case Jill needs something."

"Let's go to the café; it will be sometime before Jill comes around," replied Pete in a somber voice.

Pete ordered coffee. It was nearing 5 AM, and the hospital kitchen staff was getting active for the morning coffee and breakfast servings for the in-patients.

Pete sipped his coffee for a while without looking at Dave. Finally, he turned to gaze him directly in his eyes. "The police station got a call at around 1 AM, informing us that there was this car in the Jefferson Park neighborhood."

"Jefferson Park neighborhood? Why would Jill be there? Why would she be there so late?"

"Dave, I don't want to intrude, but before some other officer asks you these questions, how are things between the two of you?"

"What do you mean, Pete?" Dave asked in an exasperated tone. "We are a normal family. C'mon, you've known us since ages. Why are you asking all this?"

"Are you aware that Jill takes drugs?"

"What?" Dave exploded. "Never."

Pete shrugged and continued, "You may not like what I am going to say next, but when our patrol car arrived at the scene, they found Jill in the back seat, totally nude and passed out."

"What are you saying, man?" Those marks on his wife's breasts he had just seen flashed across his mind.

"My men called an ambulance and took her to the hospital. At that time, we didn't know it was Jill. The officer in charge checked her handbag, got the details and notified me because I get a flash report of anything happening in that neighborhood. The officer also reported finding condom wrappers at the site, though there were no used condoms around. The medics confirmed that Jill had sex within the last five hours."

Pete watched Dave with narrow eyes, seeing how his friend was taking all this.

"Condoms..." Dave whispered shakily.

"Yes, Dave."

"My wife is having an affair... my wife is having an affair..." The words kept swirling around his head. The stylish clothes that his wife had been wearing of late... those supposedly official dinner outings...

"As any ER procedure," Pete continues, "the medics did some tests on Jill. They found traces of oxycodone in her bloodstream, mixed with high levels of alcohol."

"Oxycodone..."

"It's an opioid used by pharmaceutical companies to manufacture a variety of medicines. Mixed with alcohol it causes euphoria and an extreme urge to have sex. Seemingly, Jill is into drugs, and she had friends, too, as we can see. They were most probably doing drugs and having sex in the back seat. Unfortunately, Jill went into a coma, and probably that's why her friends left in a hurry, abandoning her there."

"Coma?" Dave repeated in a stupid tone.

"Jill took an overdose of that drug. With the high level of alcohol inside her body, she had a near respiratory failure. The medics are doing the best they can to keep her vital organs stable.

"You say you never had an inkling of her activities? No change in behavior or moods or maybe late night outs?"

Dave thought of the times Jill had been going out lately for those so-called official dinner meetings, dressed up rather sharply, the revealing neckline of her dress, the skirts being that just inch or so shorter, displaying her shapely legs. Was she into some drugs and sex group? With whom? Dave felt sick.

"Look, Dave, I know this is bad, but first we need to ensure that Jill recovers. The rest of the talk can happen later. Don't do anything stupid right now. She needs your support; your children need your support. There will be always time to sort things out later.

"For now, I have managed to put a lid on any news going out to the press. I am going to shut this case as a regular drug consumption related incidence. Such things happen frequently, and nobody is going to take much notice. If I keep the case open for looking into the drug supply angle, believe me, things have a way of getting leaked and reaching the tabloids, and the press people will come sniffing around at your house."

"When can Jill be discharged from the hospital?"

"The medics need to keep her under observation for at least the next few days. The alcohol and drugs need to be flushed out of her system and the body given time to recover and get back sufficient strength. Dave, for now your first priority is to bring her home and nurse her back to good health."

The following days were busy for Dave. He took time off from work and called his parents. His mother promised to take care of the house and the kids. Jill's parents lived in the neighboring county and promised to come as soon as possible. He appeared normal on the outside, but inside, he was grieving. His wife was hospitalized, and he was putting in all his efforts into getting her back home at the earliest possible time. Jill was having an affair and into drugs. That thought was making him constantly angry. Who were this group of new-found friends? How often did they do it? More importantly, why did she do it? Godammit.

Some days later, Jill came out of her drug induced coma. She still had breathing problems and the doctors decided to keep her in the hospital until those went away.

Dave needed some answers before he confronted his wife. He needed to find out more about her junkie sex group. He had to know. Had Jill turned into a slut? The thought of Jill having group sex sickened him. He had to get to the bottom of all this, and then decisions would need to be taken, hard decisions. The one major challenge was how to get the information he needed.

Then he remembered Harris: Harris McPherson. They had been together in college. Harris had majored in forensic and investigative science. After a short stint with the police force, he had opened his own detective agency.

"There's more money in the private sector for the same level of time and efforts put in," he had once remarked with a wink. He was your average Joe, normal height, normal features, in short, a personality that could easily mingle and blend in the crowd. He also had contacts, lots of them. Perfect for the job he did.

Dave called on Harry the next afternoon. "You look like shit, man," Harry said. "And my experience says this means one or a combination of all the three famous W's in our profession."

"And that would be?" Dave muttered, looking out of the office window.

Harry stuck out his left hand fingers and began to count, "Wine, Women, Wealth."

Dave nodded silently and met Harry's gaze, "You can add a D to that. D, for drugs."

Harry's became instantly serious. "What's up, Dave?"

Dave began talking. Slowly at first, then words kept coming out, along with the anguish he was feeling. Harry intently heard out the part about the medic's report saying Jill took an overdose at the group session.

"Drugs are bad, Dave, and I can see why Pete wanted to close the file without a mention of the drug part. Otherwise, his report would have been forwarded to the narcotics wing, and perhaps even to the FBI, who would all then want to question Jill about the source of her drugs and the other people involved. If the press happened to get a wind of it, then your family would just end up suffering all the more. For all these police guys, it's just another report that needs a follow-up, but for you it's your family."

"What do you want from me?" Harry asked.

"Harry, I understand that part about Pete closing the file as a group party with Jill passing out on alcohol. I appreciate that. It saves my family from a lot of embarrassment, but I want to know the truth. I want to know the real thing. This is something I need to know before deciding about the future. If Jill has this drug addiction, I can't have the children around her. That's not the right environment for them. And... and then Jill's infidelity... that has hurt me badly."

"Give me a week," Harris said. Dave nodded his head silently. "It will also cost some money," Harris continued.

"Don't worry about the money part, Harry, just give me the real picture."

*****

The week went slowly for Dave. He couldn't concentrate on anything. His mind kept going to the gruesome image of his wife in the ICU. She looked like a rag doll, something that had been used and then thrown away. When the doctors confirmed what Pete had already told him that she had taken drugs before indulging in sex, he had been shell-shocked. For the past few weeks he had seen his wife going to the office in some rather tight and very smart dresses, and then the frequent dinner meetings. He felt betrayed. His wife had taken advantage of his trustful nature while partying and taking drugs...

Why did Jill sell out on the kids and him? Did she enjoy this so called glamorous, partying corporate lifestyle? And then fucking in the back of her car like a school girl? Why, man, why? And how long had this all been going on?

Friday finally came, and Dave arrived at the place he was meeting Harry some minutes before the appointed time. They were to meet at a jogging area. It was mostly frequented in the mornings, so there weren't many people around in the evening. It was dark, and he was dressed in his jogging outfit. Sometime later, Dave heard soft footfalls coming from his right side. It was Harry, dressed in a similar jogging outfit with his hoody up.

Harry motioned with his hand to Dave to start jogging alongside him, and he started talking in a low tone.

"Those condom wrappers, well, I managed to get a finger print check done on them. Those condom wrappers had finger prints of just two men. There were just to men there with Jill. I ran a check with the national database for the driving licenses and came up with their names and addresses. Larry Holmes and Frank DuPont."

Harry showed Dave their pictures, taken in front of their homes.

"Larry owns a shop that sells mostly jewelry made of semi--precious stones."

"And Frank DuPont?"

"He is a market analyst and gives consultancy to some prominent business groups here in town."

"How do they connect up with Jill?"

"The marketing agency that Jill works for had been contracted by some prominent newspapers and magazines to sell advertisement space in their pages. Naturally, the agency would be getting a good commission, and so would Jill. As far as I could get gather, Jill had been meeting Larry to get him to release some advertisements for his jewelry showroom."

"What about DuPont?"

"Same with DuPont, too. DuPont has some corporate clients and Jill was meeting him for getting some advertisements from those clients of his.

"And Jill would be getting a nice commission for selling space to these guys."

Dave pondered over this information. So was this the reason for Jill's frequent business meetings over dinner? Or was there something more to it?

Harry shared a video clip with Dave. "Look, don't ask how I got this, but these are some clips from the CCTV at the restaurant where you said Jill had gone that fateful evening." Dave viewed the short clips. He could see Jill sitting between Larry and DuPont. They were drinking and chatting and seemingly having a good time. Then the time line for the clipping changed, and he could see Jill seemingly in a tipsy mood, laughing at whatever they were saying. DuPont put his hand over hers and kept it there, gently rubbing. Jill didn't seem to mind. That fellow Larry, his hand seemed to be going below the dinner table every now and then.

Was this commission so damn important to Jill? She seemed to have put herself and her marriage at stake. Or did her client meetings have some "sex on the side" part, also? This was weird. This was a side of his wife he had never seen before.

"One last short clipping from the CCTV at the parking area, Dave," Harry said as he shared the next, and last, footage he had from the restaurant.

It was blurry, but Jill could be seen leaning onto Larry who had his arm around her shoulder and a keychain dangling from his other hand.

"Look closely at the key chain. It's Jill's.

"I think it is from here that they took their party elsewhere, for, well, for what Detective Pete has already informed you."

By then they were nearing a curve that would bring them in the open and near the parking lot where Dave had parked his car.

"Just one more thing to add from the background check I've done so far."

"And what's that?" Dave asked in a gruff tone.

"They have two things in common: both love money and women and don't care what means they use to get them. I'll turn around here, Dave, as I don't want anyone to see us together. I'll keep you posted with anything new that turns up," Harry said as he began retracing his steps. He had parked his car near a little-known dirt track.

*****

That night, Dave kept tossing and turning in his bed. Sleep just wouldn't come to him. That Goddamn bitch, why did she do this to him? He was hurt, hurt badly. He needed to take a decision, if not for himself, then for the sake of his children. Stacy would be turning thirteen next years, she had a good head on her shoulders and it wouldn't take her long to hear things from others and start drawing her own conclusions. Before that happened, he needed to talk, both with his wife and the kids.