A Will To Murder Read Online Free

his might with Frederick.  Swings and punches detonated all over, Arthur swearing as hard as he could.  He only knew two bad words so he had to make do, yelling them over and over.  Richie balled up protectively.
    “What the--!” Bert shouted, “Knock it off!”
    “You two behave yourselves,” Phil added lamely, fumbling for a cigarette.
    The boys stopped.  Richie sat up and scowled at Arthur.  Arthur panted back, wild-eyed.
    “Okay, you want to hold a stuffed rabbit, you can hold a stuffed rabbit,” sneered Richie.  “Hey, do you know what ‘Arthur’ sounds like?”
    “Don’t say it,” the other threatened, menacing him with Frederick.  The two boys studied each other silently.  Then, with the primate’s instinct for making a peaceful gesture, Richie said, “Want to see me stick this piece of plastic thread up my nose and pull it out my mouth?”
    Arthur wasn’t interested, but he paid attention.  It was better than getting beaten up.  He stayed wary, however, for he knew Richie’s type.  If his cousin smelled fear, he would attack.       
    “Hey,” said Richie as the car drove off, “why don’t you have a TV in here?”
    “Because it’s a car,” retorted Arthur.
    “We have one in our car,” his cousin taunted.  “It’s a flat screen and it plays videos, too.  You can play computer games on it as well.”  Richie gloated, then pulled out a long whip of chewing gum and bit the end off.  He didn’t offer any of it to Arthur.
    “Dare you to shove that up your nose and pull it out your mouth,” said Arthur, positive that his cousin could never manage it.  
    To his dismay, Richie did.
    A yell from Bert and a violent wobble in the car’s steering got everyone’s attention and made Phil drop ashes all over his lap.  Rollingwood was in the distance.
    “It’s black!”  Bert shouted.  “The whole house is fucking black!”
    “James Boyle had it painted black this year,” Salisbury replied.  “I don’t know why.”
    “Jesus, that evil old man!” said Bert in wonder.
    “Place also has a bat problem, Jac says.  This your first time here?”
    “Not quite.  I saw the living room when I was dating Rose, but didn’t get any further.  The old man wouldn’t let me in the house after Rose and I married.  An appliance repairman wasn’t good enough for him.  He didn’t come to the wedding either, though Katherine and Armagnac showed up.”
    Arthur didn’t properly heed this information about bats, because Richie was creeping towards him, bedewed plastic thread held out menacingly, and Arthur had to kick him back.  Bert’s hand shot over the seat and smacked them both, quelling them momentarily.
     
     
    “So what have you been doing lately?” asked Rose, wincing.
    “I’ve been trying to persuade the museum board to start purchasing more late 19th- and early 20th-century French ceramics for the permanent collection, but haven’t gotten anywhere.  They think pottery is too feminine, and only oil paintings can be considered real art.”  Jac clamped her lips together for a moment, but did not disturb the resinous luster of her lipstick.  “Then I get this news about Father.  I envy Aunt Katy.  With Father gone she can do whatever she likes.”  
    Rose bit down on an antacid so hard it went off like a gunshot.
    “Will you stop cracking those things!?  You’re driving me crazy.”  Jac pursed her mouth musingly as she steered the Lincoln.  “Do you have any idea who could have put that CD in Dad’s car?  Was anyone angry with him?”
    “You know everyone was!  Father couldn’t go five minutes without infuriating somebody.  What amazes me is that someone went to all that trouble to install a boombox in his car.  Whoever did it must feel awful.  I’m sure they didn’t expect him to--to die.”
    Briarly was watching the two women from the backseat.  Only her eyes could be seen peering over the top.
    “I bet it was Heydrick,” said Jac.