The Monolith Murders Read Online Free

worked up over some cause that he knew in advance that he would not share. Fred abruptly attempted to shift the subject area to neutral ground. “Maureen this is the day you wanted to see Leslie the Great at the Van Wezel, isn’t it?”  
    “Yes, Fred, and I don’t want to be late. You know I’ve loved magic tricks since I was a kid; and in my book Leslie is without equal. Evan a modern-day Houdini would have a hard time competing with him.”  
    Maureen was highly perceptive; she discerned immediately that Fred was attempting to take her mind off how the damn conservatives were destroying the country. But for the moment the more important thing in her life was to watch Leslie and see if she and Fred couldn’t be challenged to mentally dismantle some of his elaborate tricks.
    It was an early afternoon show, which Fred calculated should be over long before dark. Fred hoped that, after the show, he could go to the station for a couple of hours of necessary work. Maureen reluctantly agreed; she felt that Fred recently was working too many days, as well as too many hours each day.
    In Fred’s mind the show was going to be a respite more for Maureen than him. Besides his long hours at work, he spent one evening each week playing poker with his friends. On Monday nights they would all watch the National Football League games at a local bar, or college basketball during what he considered the off-season. The fact was that he had little free time with Maureen. Going with her to attend a show that he knew in advance that he would not enjoy represented only fractional payback.
    They had just pulled out of their driveway when they witnessed a brutal hit and run. The accident wasn’t associated with a person but with a small brown floppy-eared terrier that had been struck in his back right leg and violently tossed on to the cement sidewalk from the impact. The driver continued on without attempting to even slow down.  
    Fred shouted, “Damn you!”  
    Maureen knew immediately what Fred was contemplating, “Fred, you realize we’re already running late, don’t you?”
    “I know but I have to help him; you know perfectly well that I really have no choice.”  
    Fred knew that any injured animal acted instinctively and that instinct was usually aggression. Fred got on his knees down to the small dog’s level. Fortunately, the dog was fully conscious. It stared at him for a long second trying to determine if he was friend or foe; and having made its decision, it limped up next to him, its tail cautiously wagging. Upon inspection Fred determined that the dog had no tag; and based on its matted hair, Fred assumed he was a stray or the pet of an indifferent owner.  
    Fred carefully picked up the dog and gently deposited him on a tattered blanket residing in the back seat of Maureen’s car. He next took a five block out-of-the-way detour to an emergency vet. Fred rushed in saying, “Take care of my dog; here’s my name and phone number, I will pay whatever it takes.”  
    The vet asked “What’s his name?”
    Fred said, “Who knows?”
    * * *
    They made it to the show about ten minutes after it started. Maureen was not upset by the delay; that’s just Fred being his normal compassionate self, she reflected.  
    Sitting in a front row seat, Maureen was spellbound by Leslie’s tricks; Fred was plainly bored. The next to last event of the show was Leslie’s trademark disappearing woman trick. Or as he billed it in all of his ads, a wondrous transition into the mist . Leslie’s scantily clad assistant was dressed in a bright red bra with matching panties, each piece covered with yellow sequins which seemed to be independently illuminated as they reflected the high intensity stage lights above. In a moment she was securely padlocked into a steel container about the size of a small closet. The contraption, from the limited perspective of the distant audience, seemed to have only a single entry and exit door. Leslie asked