Cancer’s Nude Death List

On the trail of a killer with nothing to lose, Detective Moore wonders if the isn't true about himself.

London, 1965

Chapter One

Back then her breasts pushed at the buttons of her light blue blouse. Her hair was brown and her blue eyes were wide. She sat slumped at the easel holding her brush by her side. "I can't do this," she said. "Don't worry you've almost finished. It's good enough," he said as he slipped his hand under her arm to touch her breast and kissed her neck. "It's your aunt, she'll give you the money anyway," he said. "I know, I just feel slack," she said as she turned and opened her mouth to kiss him. He unbuttoned her shirt as they started to kiss deeper. He moved his hand between her legs as he worked down her neck. She lifted her arms over her head and leaned back as he released her breasts from her corset.

Now she opens the door, her hair is a little more tired but her face still looks young and here eyes are still laughing and welcoming. "Oh, hello you," she says. She's a little shocked to see him. Right now, after all this time. "Good evening," he says as he steps methodically forward and grabs her neck and pushes her back into the house and says "Open."

"This bastard is still out there. I can feel it," says Detective Moore looking out the window of his hotel in London. "The only problem is where. He's tracked these girls half way around the country and there is no way to tell why he's picked his victims. I'm finished really."

"Ok, well come back in on Monday. We'll talk."

"Right." He hangs up the telephone.

Chapter Two

He had been a good kid, he had played by the rules. He was quiet at school. One of his reports said "He keeps his own counsel." He played sports and was an average student After finishing school he still didn't know what to do. Along the way he made no lasting friends. He did, however, have a girlfriend from his hometown. She was a secretary in New York and he went to visit her on the weekends until she found someone else. It was going to happen. It was obvious. To him it was his first taste of heartbreak and the frustrations of love, other than the girl from out of town who would meet him when he went out at night with school friends. Maybe that was the first girl to leave him. That's when he first started drinking bourbon.

After his first girlfriend, a few girls came along who appeared to him to be confused. At one time they would treat him as if they were married, at other times it was as if they didn't know him. He felt like they didn't know him or even know he was a person. One of these girls was a popular girl. Her down to earth directness was set off by her own self deprecating humor. Her long straight black hair was often in a pig tail and she was thin from "only eating one meal a day".

She was always making comments about her ex boyfriends like "Pete and me had a good sex thing going." When her roommate went home one weekend she asked him to her room. They smoked joints and listened to Elvis until he was stoned. He shivered on the chair covered by a blanket. She said "Come here," as she straddled him. Her small loving kisses touched his lips as he moved his hands down her back to hold her ass.

She had very small breasts, her nick name on campus was "table top", and she was embarrassed by them, she whispered "I'm sorry they're so small." as he sucked on them. He lifted her up and they continued to kiss as her he fucked her in her roommate's bed. "We shouldn't be doing this."

The week after, she didn't speak to him. She was angry with him, she had a different boyfriend now.

Now her hair is graying just a little and her face has hardened. She still has her good looks and is still very thin. She is wearing dark blue flared jeans and a tie-dyed T-shirt and a small denim jacket, and is pulled along by a black Labrador. The man walking next to her holds her elbow as they come to a stop at the cross roads. He turns off right and heads for the lights of houses in the distance. She carries on down the road and enters a field where she let's the dog off the lead.

"Go," She says. He follows her and enters the field further down the road. As she comes to the gate he pulls her into a puddle of mud with his arm locked around her throat.

He says "Thin."

She struggles for a long time but can't scream as he strangles her to lifelessness. He walks away slowly as the sun drops below the houses.

"We can't stop now. We have too much invested in it. This is on front page of The Bugle for Christ sakes," Superintendent Charles says as Moore enters the room.

"I know that, as well as you do, sir. But I've come to a dead end. I'm not saying we can't find this prick but maybe you should look at someone else. Susan can maybe take a look."

"With all due respect, you're our best man. Susan is a woman. She can't stomach this."

"I think you'd be surprised, sir."

"Well, I'm not taking you off the case."

"I'm just saying I'm out of ideas."

"Ok well¡ just keep going."

"Ok," Moore says lifting his hand to his head.

"I'm sure you can nail this, John. Even, if you don't think so."

"I'm going to try, sir." Moore walks across the car park to his car. He sits in it for 20 minutes before heading home.

Chapter Three

The next aborted girlfriend was a manipulating bitch. Everyone knew she was. Really she was just a little girl, still in her teens, still daddies little girl, pretending to be a cool kitten, the cats pajamas. She had fooled everybody. She, maybe unknowingly, caused other girls to despise her but they all wanted to be her. To be wanted, like she was. Her problem was who to choose to take home to her mother, who was the town's wedding planner. Her daddy was still a boy about town and she was still a child. Some had never met anyone so childish. She came to him in a jazz club. He stood with a friend. They had been drinking heavily all night, bored. They had been smoking cigarettes down to the filter, that's where the heroin was, that was the joke. She had been dancing with her girlfriend. Her friend pulled him over. He danced. The music stopped and he was alone with her. He bought her a drink and on the way home he held her hand. On her sofa, she pulled his hand to her breasts and felt his crouch and whispered, "You can stay if you like."

In her bed she wore her petticoat and he wore his boxers. They kissed and he took off her panties and licked her clitoris. She pulled him on to the floor where she gyrated on his dick until she was exploding in deep gasps trying not to scream. When she had finished, he couldn't find the rubber. After a while she pulled it from inside her with a giggle, "Oh my."

A week later, she called him to ask if he wanted to come round. Later that night he met her in her kitchen and ate some cream cheese bagels and later that night they walked in the park, where she told him she was late. She wasn't sure if she was pregnant. She didn't know. She held his arm and said "Do you even care?"

He said "Of course."

He went home that night and later that week she called and they went to the movie house, where she told him she wasn't. Pregnant that is. He didn't know what to say. He didn't really believe her in the first place. It was cold out that night and as they walked through the exiting cinema crowds he felt like she didn't know she was alive.

She said, "I miss this when I'm not with you."

"I can't see you for a week. Is that ok? I'm having some problems. My friends are coming to see me. I need some time."

"Ok."

"That's all, ok?"

"Yeah." She never called him again and when he went to her house once. She came down and talked to him at the door before making an excuse to go back inside. He stood at the door and then went next door for a drink. A triple shot of bourbon. The moon was up, it was the night for experience.

Now she gets out of her car and walks quickly to her house in LA. The smog was thick today. She opens the door to her house, bending down to pick up the mail. A dog noses at her knees. "Go away, Jarvis."

He walks up past the other side of the car and to the side gate of the house and down the backside of the house. She is now in the kitchen on the phone and has opened the back French windows. She has taken off her blouse and is wearing a bra top and garter. She has made herself a drink. A bourbon, perhaps.

The dog is on the other side of the pool as she lowers herself into the water, and pushes off underwater, heading for the other side. Halfway across the pool, at the deepest point of her journey, he walks round to the pool. As she comes up gasping for air, he catches her and slips a canvas bag over her head. Her legs kick, as he punches her in the face. Blood seeps into the water as he lets her slip back into the water.

He says, "Childish."

Jarvis looks at him, wagging his tail.

Detective Moore sits on the edge of his bed with a bottle of Bourbon. His head rolls back and then he leans forward, holding his revolver, to take a drag on his Round 50. The phone rings and he falls back on the bed, looking at the ceiling. The phone rings, he rolls over to it, but doesn't pick up.

Chapter Four

She was very small, petite. She had pouting lips and was very pale. She was so small she couldn't find jeans tight enough and she couldn't find heels high enough. She was bulimic. You could tell by her teeth. A little too much dark in her smile. She always wore black, apart from an occasional grey. She looked like a worn out Bridgette Bardot and didn't go out much, stayed in her room until the afternoon, sleeping on a mattress on the floor. She was beautiful but her beauty was tarnished. Her extremes gave her character which she didn't have. He met her on the street outside a friend's house. She was meek and hovering on the edge of a crowd of people.

"Hello." Surprisingly confident.

The next day she came to his room and looked round the door. They went out with friends and she drank a beer. Something she didn't normally do. "You have to come back to reality in the end."

In her room, she sat on her bed and told him to sit down. He asked if he could kiss her and she said, "Yes." She held the back of his head and touched his waist, pulling him down. He put a Chuck Berry 45 on and as the record played they kissed, but when he felt for her breast she said, "No."

She was wearing a heavily padded bra. He didn't care as their tongues lapped at each other and her bony ringed fingers pulled at his penis until he came in her hand. He then went down on her. She was so small. When she came she shuddered and pulled him closer. She said in the early hours of the next day. "People say 'Little Betty, you're so nice', but I'm not a nice person at all."

"You seem nice to me."

The next time he saw her was at a party she didn't see him at first but when she did she came over and said "Hello."

"I haven't seen you for ages. Where have you been?"

"Oh, you know."

A hand appeared on her shoulder and a big bearded kid said "Are you coming?"

"Yeah, see you." She ducked in front of the big guy and they shuffled off into the crowded party. He couldn't see her head, she was so small.

Now she bounces up the Ramblas in Barcelona, with a design folder, dodging the crowds. She walks through some arches and across a square, pigeons flying up as a couple of young children chase across the square. From the back she's still small. Her ass is hard behind those blue jeans. Her hair is short now but she still wears red, red lip stick.

As she heads across the square, every Spanish male head turns. She has a nose ring now. It seems as though the crowds part for her as she gets to the other side. She stops at a news stand and buys a teen idol magazine and starts off down a side street. Slowing to open the magazine and look at the pictures. She stops at one point to read something, turns down another side street. He takes another side street which almost runs parallel with the one she is on.

As they both walk down the streets, he can see down the connecting streets. She is walking now, the magazine must be in the folder, or deposited in a bin. He gets a block ahead of her and turns right down a connecting street, when he turns right again she is walking towards him. As they pass, he punches her in the stomach and brings a piece of Gaudi stone down on her skull.

He says "Small."

The blood spreads down the street, as he walks back to the connecting street and on down the road.

The maid knocks on the door a long time then moves on to the next room. She comes back 40 minutes later with her keys and opens the door to room 213. As she pushes her cart into the room she sees a body on the bed. There's glass on the floor and blood is on the sheets. She screams and runs out of the room. Detective Moore lifts his head and slurs, "I'm a detective."

Chapter Five

By now he was confused but she sat next to him in a lecture and said, "It's intrinsic to the overall composition and its latent meanings regarding the Rococo design." She introduced him to things he liked, even though she didn't like them that much and she wanted to cook for him, made him eat vegetables and they listened to The Drifters and The Coasters together. He stood in a bar on a Thursday night waiting for a friend to turn up. She stepped out from a group of girls and said, "I know something you don't."

He replied without thinking, "What?"

"Victoria is really drunk."

That night she said, "You better walk me home."

"Yeah, well your house is on the way to mine." They talked about a soap opera and she said, "You're stupid really aren't you."

At her door she said, "You can come in but you'll have to be quiet."

"I'll try."

She went to the kitchen to make drinks and he sat on the bed smoking his last Round 50s cigarette. When she came in she put the tray on the side table and sat on the bed. They talked for a bit and she put on a Perry Cosmo record and said, "You're getting fat."

"I know. I've been trying to lose weight."

"You never will, you know."

"I know."

"You're a tart as well."

"What do you mean?"

"You're always with other dolls."

"Not really."

"You're a big fat tart." She let down her mousy hair and took off her glasses. Her eyes were green. She looked at him as he moved on to his knees and put his hand on her knee. He moved her legs apart and she touched his arm as they started to kiss. He moved on top of her and then rolled off her as they kissed. They stopped after a while and started watching the end of the film.

When he woke up in the morning, she was holding his cock in her hand and she said. "You're meat." He felt for her, slid his fingers inside her as he bit her neck. She was wearing a white slip and got on top and he got inside her. She moved over him and he felt for her anus.

She said, "Don't," and pushed his hand away and went down on him. She licked the head of his penis until he came and then went down on him deeply.

After she was finished she said, "Don't tell anyone but I loved sucking your dick."

A few weeks later he was still confused by the night's events. Again they met in the lecture theatre. After a long lecture about conspicuous wealth, on the way down some steps, he asked her, "Why don't we see each other?"

"I don't think we are compatible."

"Okay."

"I'm just, you know, not like that. I need more, you know."

"More, than what?"

"Oh, you know. See you next week." He was perplexed but she was a bit weird for him.

Now she stands in the aisle of a store in the small town of Waco. Her hair is short but still mousy. Her bright green eyes survey the shelves and she tells a co-worker, "Go to aisle 3, in frozen; Susan is there. We need to speed up; we've only got today."

She is wearing a green T-shirt with a badge with her name on it which says Manager. Her ass has got bigger and she's wearing more eye makeup. She walks quickly to the back of the store and through some double doors, into the in-store warehouse.

5.30 pm exactly she heads out of the back of the door of the warehouse, across the car park, holding keys and a bag of groceries, to her Fiat which sits alone under the branch of a tree over hanging the car. She gets in and turns the ignition. His hands close over her mouth as she begins to scream, he slides a knife across her throat. Her head falls to one side and he sits back in the car.

He says "Tart."

"Jesus Christ, You've got to pull yourself together. We don't need this press. How did you get in such a mess?"

"Just fell and the maid made this big deal out of it. I'd had a few drinks but the shrink seems to think it was a suicide bid, which is pure bullshit."

"God Almighty. Get here by Wednesday. Where are you?"

"I'm in LA, this bastard left us nothing."

"Well, get back here."

"Ok." Detective Moore raises his glass to his lips and mouths, "One more for the road."

Chapter Six

He was depressed but she looked different. It was after university; she came to visit him after his shift at this Dive n' Grill he worked at. "I'm staying with a friend in town but I'll come to yours." Her hair was blonde and curly. She had a big ass and big tits and big lips. She wore heels and gloves and she said she had the proportions of Marilyn Monroe.

A friend had said, "She's so pretty, you want to put your dick in her mouth."

That night, she stood in front of him, as he rested up after his 16-hour shift, with just her bra and jeans on. "I've got this line running down from my tits to my belly. I'm so proud of my line. I've been eating vegetable curries only, trying to get it."

"Yeah, it's cool."

"And then of course, there's my tits. I love my tits."

"You're tits are perfect."

"My hair's too curly. I think I need to iron it or something. I hate my hair."

"Well, I like it."

"You're so cute."

She moved towards him and took his face in her hands and kissed his lips. He reached around and unhooked her bra and her breasts dropped into his mouth. She worked her jeans off and he put his fingers inside her pants. "I've wanted to do this for so long," She said as he touched her from behind. After fucking her for a while in the missionary position, he moved her legs onto his shoulders and watched those tits bounce as she grimaced and grunted.

Then he moved over her and put his dick in her mouth. He was fucking her in the mouth. Before he came, he move down and put his dick between her tits and held them together as he thrust between them. He came on her chest and then she went down on him.

Next time he saw her she was getting out of this big black Ford in the centre of town. A businessman in a tight suit came round from the driver's door and kissed her on the cheek. She saw him and waved and said something to the businessman and came across the street carrying a bag from Dolls. "Hi. How are you?"

"Ok. Where have you been? I tried to call you."

"I've been busy. I've got news. I'm married. Are you happy for me?"

"Wow. That was quick. But sure I'm happy for you."

"It's quick but Jonathon has a good job and a future. Unlike you, you know I'm just joking. I had my hair straightened."

"Oh, that's great. I'm happy for you."

Now she's just got out of a Ford by a lake in the countryside outside Paris. She still looks every inch a lady. Three kids race to the lake carrying a football and a baseball bat and tennis ball. Her hair is short now and her tits are hanging around her stomach and her ass has multiplied by two. She goes round the back of the car and pulls a bottle of bourbon and a hamper of food out.

She starts walking through the forest towards where the kids are headed. She stops a moment to put the heavy hamper down. She raises her hand up to her forehead. He looks at her as she stumbles down the short incline to where the children are messing around and shouting. She puts the hamper down by the bench and starts to look around the beautiful lake. She starts to walk along the lake side, away from the children. She then shouts something to the kids and then walks up towards the utilities block. He follows her, as she makes her way up to the toilets.

Once inside she goes to the sink and looks in the mirror. He appears in the mirror behind her. He stares in her eyes as the wire cuts through the fat around her neck and she gurgles the blood in her mouth. He watches the blood stream over the wire and says "Cups."

"We've got nothing. I mean we had nothing and we've still got nothing. I know the press are all over us but what can I do. There's no motive. He's some kind psychotic perfectionist."

"There's got to be something."

"Well, I can't see it. Again I suggest you get someone else on it. I'm out."

"Not now, we've got find this sick fuck before he kills again." Detective Moore holds his head.

"Give up the booze. We haven't got time. You need to pull your head out of your ass and catch this fuck. Goddamn it, Moore."

Chapter 7

She plunged the mop into the bucket and pulled it out, squeezed back into the squeegee and said, "Cheer up, it might never happen. It's not the best place to work but it's not that bad." She had a gold chain around her neck, rings on every finger, her hair was blonde and you could see her panties through her skirt. "You should get a permanent job here. It pays the bills."

As she moved the mop under the table, he could see the white flesh of her breasts and a black lacy bra. She came up from under the sink, next to him and said "There are advantages to working here, you know." Her breath smelt of cheap bourbon and hamburgers.

As he leaves work at 2 in morning to go home to no one, he realizes that he is 41 years old and he has nothing. No wife, no kids, no family, a degrading job and no future. He gets a sinking feeling in his stomach as he pictures the doctor's lips as they say the words "I'm sorry, but you have cancer."

Detective Moore's head is bobbing up and down on the side of the bath. Bloody water is flowing over the side of the bath as the taps continue to run. By the side of the bath there is a finished crossword torn from a newspaper, with a pile of soil on it and an empty bottle of bourbon and an empty bottle of pills and a razor blade.

All models are 18 years or older, regardless of the text.

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