Death and Joy

“It’s terrible Susie, absolutely terrible!” Joy said in her loud, shrill voice.

“Oh?” the young woman said, moving her ear away from the receiver.

“Oh yes.” Joy slouched on her chair, twirling the phone cord around her finger. “You see, George has been mixing with these terrible people… these criminals. And now...” She pulled on the cord until she felt her finger swell.  “Oh, the horror of it all Susie. Never in my 50 years have I experienced such treachery and pain.” She released the cord and looked at her finger, now slightly blue. “It started last week when George decided to take up cooking classes....” Joy snapped upright. “Oh! Remember when I told you about his midlife crisis?”

“Maybe.”

“Yes, well he promised he would start exercising and rediscovering his passions… oh, how I miss his more athletic days. He was much happier then! 

Anywho, George set off to his first cooking class, then his second, then his third… and on his fourth, he came home late!” Joy squeaked. “Of course, I’m not the suspicious type and so I thought nothing of it. But then, with what happened afterwards, I immediately caught onto what he was hiding.”

“What was it?” the woman said. “An affair?”

“Heavens no! We love each other. It was no affair. I knew it had to be something much more serious… And I was right! One night, my Georgey came home very late.” Joy closed her eyes as if to coax the memory out. “Around 11-ish, which is very late indeed. And he was acting all strange, refusing to hug me and whatnot.

And so the next day, I confronted him. I woke him up with a mug of his favourite coffee and asked him what was wrong.” Joy sighed again. “He lied. He said nothing was wrong and that it was all in my head.”

“Well...” the young woman said. “I mean, it’s possible, right?” She shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “We all imagine things from time to time—”

“Ah! But wait...” Joy said with a twinkle in her eye. “Let me tell you what I overheard him say on the phone.” Joy continued without waiting for the young woman to confirm. “So, knowing I was onto him, he offered to cook up a romantic dinner.” Joy snorted. “The sly fox... I said yes of course. My husband’s always been a hopeless romantic. And you know me, I’m more of a rational person, right?” Joy waited. “Right, Susie?” 

“Oh!” said the woman. “Oh yes, of course.”

“Yes yes.” Joy smiled. “But who could say no to his Indian cuisine? Not me!”

“Sure,” the woman said. ”So, what did you overhear?”

“So,” Joy said. “We ate this delicious meal, we threw ourselves on the couch and just lay there for a while, smelling of herbs and satisfaction. After a few minutes,” Joy clicked her tongue, ”he gets a phone call from an unsaved number.” Joy paused. “Susie, is everything ok?”

“What? Yes! Why wouldn’t it be?”

“No I just thought I heard you make a noise just then... never mind! So anyway, he went to the kitchen to answer the call. But I’ve got great hearing you see, unlike him, and so I heard every-single-word he said.” Joy lowered her voice. “He was talking about some kind of... vendetta. A vendetta against someone called…”— her voice fell to a whisper— “Brusca.”

“Vendetta,” the young woman repeated. “Against Brusca?”

“Yes!” Joy shouted and almost leapt out of her seat. “Yes! Do you know him?!”

“Well, I mean...” said the woman. “There are a lot of Italian families with that name.”

“Bingo! I knew it sounded Italian so I went to look it up.” Joy brought the mouthpiece closer. “Sicilian mafia. George was talking about some vendetta against the mafia.”

“Look, Joy,” the young woman said. “I don’t want to contradict you but—”

“No no, it’s ok! Just let me finish, let me finish.” Joy cleared her throat and dove back into her story. “So he’s organising this vendetta, right?” No word was said in disagreement. “And I find out about this mafia family and start investigating. Then, one evening, while I was grabbing a glass of milk before bed, a large shadowy figure hit me over the head and knocked me out.

I had been out cold for about an hour when I came to.” Joy’s voice suddenly acquired a dark tone. “And what I found when I woke up confirmed my suspicions.” She hesitated for a few seconds, plucking up the courage to continue. “It was horrible, Susie. There was blood everywhere. Blood and fur,” Joy said. “My poor puppy…” 

“Oh no… Oh Joy,” said the woman. “Hey, don’t cry...”

“Yes,” Joy sniffled. “Yes, it’s… it’s just that I loved her so much. She was only five you know, she had all of her life ahead of her.”

“Well...” the woman panicked. “All dogs go to heaven, I suppose?”

“Yes.” Joy said. “I certainly hope so.” She pulled herself together. “Anyway, I woke up to this nightmare and screamed at the top of my lungs. George obviously came running down the stairs and saw me lying in a pool of blood. He was shocked, but he immediately comforted me. For a slight moment, the thought crossed my mind that he had committed the disgusting deed.” Joy shook her head. “But George would never. He has a heart of gold... But even with a heart of gold, he’s a terribly good liar.”

“How so? What do you mean?” asked the woman.

“Well, I told him... I told him I knew it was his mafia friends trying to send me a message. They knew I had been investigating and were clearly trying to scare me.... And I was terrified.” Joy tutted. “But oh was I angry. I was angry at them and I was angry at him too! He denied everything. He could hardly look me in the eyes... He obviously felt so guilty about what happened to our poor baby girl that he couldn’t stand to hold my gaze. I’m not stupid!”

“Of course not.”

“Right?”

“Right… So what happened next?”

“Next…” Joy wiped tears off her face. “The most terrible part Susie. The next night, it happened again. Someone knocked me out. And when I woke up...” She started sobbing. “I found him. He was in the bedroom. He was… he was pinned to the wall with the fire poker... his shirt soaked in blood and this… this big hole… right where...” Joy absent-mindedly traced a circle on the left side of her chest. “It was horrible. Worse than any nightmare I’ve ever cooked up in my mind.” Joy snapped out of her daze. “It was sick. And it had “Mafia” written all over it.”

“B-but…” the woman took a deep breath. “I don’t—”

“Yes, I don’t understand either… How could everything and everyone I love just disappear in less than a month?” Joy said. 

“Yes, but…” the woman’s voice quivered. “I’m so sorry Joy.”

“I feel your empathy. Thank you, Susie.” Joy smiled. “But I’ll be alright.” She turned around for a moment. ”Oh, I have to go. The nice young man just asked me to return to my room.” Joy locked gazes with the woman through the ballistic glass. “But please do come back and visit!”

“Sure…” The young woman hung up the handset and stared at Joy as she got up. “God, what have I done?”

“It’s ok,” said the man next to her. 

“No Paolo,” she snapped. “It’s not ok. I don’t want to be here… all these sick and crazy people and that bullet-proof glass…  I want to leave.”

“Well, Nicoletta,” Paolo said. “We’re in jail. We usually try to stay out of jail, not come here intentionally.” He nodded towards the visiting cubicle. “And your friend is one of the crazy folk.”

“Yes, but she wasn’t crazy before all of this.” Nicoletta grabbed her coat and headed for the exit. “It was just her and George… George! That stupid man. He could have just left her and chosen me. But the dirty pig wanted to keep all of her damned money too!”

“Hold on...Nico,” Paolo said, stopping in his tracks. ”Did you poison her or something?”

“No,” Nicoletta said. When she didn’t hear his footsteps, she turned around. “Ok yes, but it wasn’t anything serious. A slightly hallucinogenic Indian herb, that’s all! And it wasn't supposed to make her homicidal. It was just supposed to make her cuckoo enough for George to have a reason to control her money and... Will you stop looking at me like that?”

“Jeez Nicoletta,” Paolo said, following the young woman down the steps. “That’s a bit sick, even for you.” On receiving no answer, Paolo continued. “And even if it was his idea, why did you give him the tools to do it?”

“I wanted him to leave his wife, Paolo. He had me waiting for… months!”

Paolo snorted. “Months?” He laughed. “You ruined a woman’s life because you waited a few months for a married man to realise he suddenly loved you more than his rich wife’s money?” Paolo shook his head. “That’s sick.”

“Paolo, your grandfather melted a young boy in acid to stop his father from snitching...”  Nicoletta stopped. “Hey, is this your Bugatti?” 

“Yes,” Paolo said. “And wow Nico, talk about digging up unpleasant memories.” He frowned. “Why did the woman call you Susie?”

“Oh...” said Nicoletta. “Well… George had a pretty little Yorkshire Terrier called Susie.”

“That’s…” Paolo looked at the young woman. “... a strange explanation.” 

“Can you unlock the door?”

“Sure… and save the fake tears for the jury if the police ever find out.” They both heard a click and got in the car. Paolo turned to Nicoletta. “No answer?” He sighed. “Ok, come on, you’re down in the dumps. Wanna go gambling?” The young man grinned. “Or would you rather go to that cult of middle-aged spice-worshippers you love so much?”

“Cult? What spice cu— Oh, you mean cooking class?” Nicoletta looked at her shoes and fiddled uncomfortably. “I just wonder whether Joy will ever remember what she did to her husband.” She paused. “Or what she did to her husband’s heart.”

Paolo frowned. “Casino..? Cooking..?”

“For her sake,” Nicoletta continued. “I hope not.”

“Lil sis? Casino? Cooki—”

“Jesus Paolo!” yelled Nicoletta. “Casino. Definitely Casino.” The young woman turned to her brother. “You can be so impatient sometimes.”