Nice Lugs!

            As far as I know every woman that I’ve ever made love to is still alive. Coincidence? I don’t think so!

On Thursday I needed to shave but I wasn’t sure if there was enough gel left in my can. The Dollarama only has the cream and so that meant I had to ride down to Freshco. Before heading east though, since it was noon on Thursday and Pirate Bay had just opened, I thought I’d pop in there and see if Den was around because I wanted him to tell me if he knows of a specific website where I can find out what brand of bike that I have by tracing the serial number. Den wasn’t there, but his wife, Dawn and a younger volunteer were there. Dawn was busy but I asked the guy if he wanted to have a look. Dawn came around a minute later and she was looking at my bike as well, commenting on what nice lugs I have. I told her, “I’m going to tell Den that you told me I have nice lugs!” She responded, “I’d better tell him first then!” My bike really does have some of the nicest lugwork I’ve seen on a bicycle. The lugs are the metal sleeves that connect the metal tubing to make the frame of the bike. I mentioned that Melissa had suggested that she thinks it might be a Mercier. Dawn confirmed that Melissa does know a lot about bikes. I pointed out though that none of the pictures of Merciers I’ve found had lugwork like mine. The young guy suggested that mine might have been a limited edition high-end version. Dawn told me that Den was tuning up the opera and that he’ll be at Bike Pirates in the last hour before they close because the opera is bound to kick him out before they rehearse. I assume he tunes their piano or whatever other keyboard instruments they use. I said I’d come back later but I didn’t.

            At Freshco, besides the shaving gel I bought grapes, bananas and yogourt.

            After lunch I took a siesta.

Just waking up from a nice nap is a lot like making love. Sleep is deliciously and sensually in your arms but you are separate from it. You embrace it, you plunge deeper into it, feeling like you could almost become one with it if you just push a little further. The bed is like a sea beneath you and sleep. You roll with it you stretch beside it you rub your body against it and caress its face with yours.

             That afternoon I took a bike ride and for the first time this year I rode without my motorcycle jacket. Maybe it’s my imagination but it seems to me that I ride faster without the jacket on. It is a pretty heavy piece of clothing.

            When I first started driving past the space where Honest Ed’s used to be it was a shock to my eyes, but this time I didn’t even notice it.

            At Bay and Bloor there was a counter tenor singing without any accompaniment or amplification, but he certainly didn’t need it. That type of voice has such a haunting quality that sends chills up the spine, though not in a bad way.

            At the corner of Parliament and Bloor a highrise is going up. I’d gotten pleasantly used to the empty space that had been on that corner for years.

            It would have been a nice enough day to keep riding out to the Danforth, but I had writing to do at home and so I only went as far as Castle Frank, just before the bridge.

            Still thinking about my bike I’m assuming that it was built in 1969, so that might be helpful for my tracking efforts.

            The League of Canadian Poets is a murder cult. Leonard Cohen and Irving Layton did not die of natural causes. The League’s blood sacrifices have kept Margaret Atwood alive for hundreds of years.

            That night I watched an Alfred Hitchcock Hour teleplay that was twisted and unpredictable. A cheating housewife named Eva is waiting for her boring husband, George to leave for work so her boyfriend can come over. As George is giving Eva an unpleasant kiss goodbye, a man in a uniform is peeking at them through the window. After George leaves there is a knock on the door and the peeper is at the door, saying he is the gasman, there to read the meter. He goes to the basement and proceeds to sabotage the pipe, causing a leak. He comes back upstairs complaining that someone has been tampering with the meter. She assures him no one has been doing any such thing and then suddenly smells the gas. She goes down and turns off the main valve. When she comes back up the gasman is sitting at the kitchen table with his face in his hands. She asks for the company’s number so she can report the problem. He says, “If you call them I’ll lose my job! I’ll fix it as soon as I’m over this attack of fever!” “Fever?” “Malaria!” She moves away “It isn’t contagious! Look, they’ll fire me if they find out I’ve been sick again!” He takes out his wallet, “Please, for their sake!” and then he shows her a picture of a mother and three children. She hangs up the phone and he drops to his knees in clinging gratitude. Disgusted, she orders him to get up and fix the gas pipe. He stands up but begins to stagger, moaning, “Just give me a minute!” She says she’s going to call a doctor but he tells her that a doctor will report him to the company and he’ll be fired. She offers him coffee and he sits down, complaining about being cold. She puts one of her husband’s jackets over his shoulders. He says, “I’ve always considered you a kind and sensitive person.” “Oh really? And how would you know that?” “Oh ah, I’ve seen you before when I come to read the meter.” He tells her that he has old wounds from being in a prisoner of war camp where he was tortured in the South Pacific. He gets up to go and fix the pipe but knocks over his toolbox, out of which falls a gun. He puts everything back in without her noticing, but then he collapses on the floor. She again says she’s going to call a doctor but he grabs her arm and says, “You really wanna help me? There’s something you can do and I’ll be all right. A hot bath or shower. Just ten minutes and then I’ll be okay.” She hesitates but finally says, “All right but you’ve got to hurry!” He goes to the bedroom alone and turns on the shower in the bathroom. He takes off his uniform and underneath it is a business suit. After a few minutes she goes to check on him but he’s not in the shower. She pulls off the bed covers and sees he’s lying very still in his underwear with his feet at the head of the bed. At first she thinks he’s dead but he says, “I think I’m going to be all right.” “You get out of that bed this instant!” “Lying down takes the strain off my wounds.” The doorbell rings and he starts to get up. She pushes him back down and warns him, “You make one sound and I’ll kill you!” It’s her boyfriend at the door but she tells him that her husband is coming home and he leaves. She goes back to the bedroom to find the gasman in a bathrobe. “You take that robe off and get out of this house! My husband would kill you if he saw you in that!” He throws the robe at her, laughs, jumps back into bed and continues to laugh as he pulls a sheet over his head. She pulls it off. “You’re a fake! There’s nothing wrong with you!” “How he ran when he heard your husband was coming home. Courage of a rabbit! Is that the best you could do?” “It’s none of your business, now get out!” “Admit he’s your boyfriend!” “I don’t have to admit anything.” “Where are you going?” “I’m going to call the gas company and then I’m going to call the police!” “Call your husband at the same time. I’d like to tell him about this business!”  “You get out of here or I will scream this house down!” “You think my being here is some kind of accident? I’ve been watching you for weeks.” “What do you mean?” “I saw your boyfriend come in one day when I was making my rounds.” “He’s a landscape artist!” “He was here three times last week. I have three pictures of him. I’ve been sitting in my car across the street most of last week watching you.” “I don’t believe you!” Goes to his jacket and takes the photos out of a pocket. “You’re a blackmailer!” “I’ve never given it much thought.” “You’ve picked the wrong person this time because I haven’t got any money.” “A nice house like this must be worth quite a bit.” “He doesn’t give me one cent more than it takes to run it.” “Relax. I’m not a professional blackmailer.” “Oh come on! With those pictures you went to a lot of trouble.” “No, it was fun!” “You certainly set this up like a pro.” “No, just an amateur. You’re very beautiful!” “What do you mean, ‘Just an amateur’?” “Blackmailers do it for money. I’m not after your money dear.”

            The scene changes to a different time but still in the bedroom. They are both wearing the same clothing as before but the implication seems to be that they have had sex. She is smoking a cigarette but he is crying. She smiles and says, “I’m the one who should be crying but I must say, you are a most unusual gasman!” “I’m not a gasman.” “Would you kindly explain?” “I’ve been watching you every day, all day and even into the night, hoping to catch a glimpse of you. “ “What are you talking about” “The thoughts that go through my mind! I bought a gun last week.” “Oh now look here!” “Don’t worry, if I use it it’ll be on myself.” “Are you all right?” “I was watching that boyfriend of yours and I was overcome by an emotion I never felt before in my life!” “And what was that?” “Jealousy! Raging jealousy! I wanted to kill that rat with my bare hands!” “Now listen, this is a respectable neighbourhood!” “And your husband, the number of times I’ve plotted his murder in the last week or two …” “Now just wait a minute!” “That’s why I bought this gasman’s uniform. It was all part of the plan. Know how it was going to work?” “Hardly!” “”I was going to come by like I did this morning but while you were out shopping and he was alone. I was gonna go down in the basement. The basement is what gave me the idea. It has only one vent and you can stuff it with a newspaper. Then I was going to disconnect the gas pipe. Well, you have a large oven, in effect.” “Like you did a while ago.” “No, that was just to annoy you. I was going to disconnect the pipe below the valve, take off the screw inside the basement door and leave. The place would fill up with gas, George would smell it and then he’d go down to investigate. But then when he found he couldn’t fix it by turning the valve, he’d rush back up to the basement door, turn the knob, give it a pull and it would come off in his hand. Clever?” “Oh, crazy!” “It would work.” “Oh yes, but why couldn’t he just fit the knob back on and let himself out?” “He probably could if he wasn’t in a hurry while breathing gas. There’s very little margin for error. The bar’s very loose. Miss it by one-sixty fourth of an inch and it falls out on the other side. Accidental death by misadventure.” “You have to be a little way out to figure this.” “I’m madly in love with you!” “You’d better get dressed. My husband will be home soon for lunch.” “You don’t understand. I’m serious!” “Or would you rather fix it for him? Now come on!” “You’ll be more impressed when I tell you that I’m a private detective and I’m here to get evidence for the divorce your husband is planning. And it looks like I’ve got the evidence.” “You dirty sneaking …” “With the evidence I’ve got your husband is going to sue that fishpond artist for alienation of affection. You’re not only broke but out in the cold!” “I knew you were a phoney all along!” “Too late now though, isn’t it?” “You don’t have to tell him.” “You want me now that you think I got something on you!” “You report to him and you’ll never see me again, I promise you!” “It doesn’t matter whether I report it or not. He already suspected what was going on before he called me in!” “You mean you already told him?” “How was I gonna know I was going to fall in love with you? He’s already got enough evidence to start divorce proceedings.” She begins breaking her husband’s prized family china. “How dare he suspect me of being unfaithful!” “It’s alright! Don’t worry! He’s not gonna bother you anymore! Being a widow is the only way you’re gonna get anything out of him now.” “Your idea …” “Oh no, not murder!” “I thought you’d do anything for me.” “Yeah but murder is no basis for a lasting marriage!” “What marriage?” “Ours.” “Look darling …” “Henry.” “Henry, I can’t live over a butcher shop.” “I could fix it up.” “I like nice things. I want those things for you too!” and she puts her arms around him. “I just knew you felt something for me.” She kisses him and says, “Now why don’t you just go and fix that door darling and I’ll put on my clothes and I’ll hide in the garden shed.” “I don’t know if I’ve got the nerve.” “I’ll turn on the gas if that’s what’s bothering you.”

            Later George comes home for lunch and the first thing he sees is his father’s best bone china cups smashed on the floor. He calls out for Eva but hears Henry the gasman say, “Look on the bright side George, think of all the spare saucers you’ve got!” “Colin!” “Aren’t you glad to see me?” “Of course I’m glad to see you. You look so much older.” “Well, things haven’t been very easy for me these last five years.” “It’s really been five years?” “It’s just as well considering how things were the last time we met.” “I’m sure two brothers can have a little quarrel now and again without becoming bad friends. Blood is thicker than water.” “As your mother used to say.” “I was sorry you couldn’t make it to mother’s funeral!” “I never liked funerals”. “Eva!” “She’s not here George.” “You did meet though.” “Yes, we met.” “Not a bad catch for a fella like me, eh?” “By the way, here’s a picture that might interest you.” “Is this …” “Yes, my wife Margaret, two little boys and little Sandra.” “She looks …” “Yes, she looks terrible.” “I wouldn’t recognize her.” “As I said, things have been rather difficult.” “I thought you had four children.” “Michael died last week. It was appendicitis. The old car broke down and we didn’t make it in time.” “I am sorry.” “Are you? Remember when I wrote you to ask for some money to replace that car?” “I hope you’re not suggesting that it was my fault that your boy died!” “No. It was a just a case of death by misadventure.” “Do you smell gas?” “Oh, it’s my fault. I tried to fix some coffee and I couldn’t get it lighted.” George looks again at the broken china and whines, “Oh what a terrible thing! It was father’s, remember?” “I remember it very well. That’s why I broke it.” “Why?” “They are half mine!” “That’s no reason!” “I thought it might please the old man’s ghost. I’m sure he’s tired of watching you swill your coffee out of them.” “You’d better go!” “Okay, I’ll go, but first I want to ask you a question.” He points a gun at George, “After all, I did come all this way to kill you.” “You’re out of your mind!” “Don’t panic George. I’ve had a change of heart. This was just in case.” He puts the gun into his vest pocket. “What do you want?” “My share!” “You have no right!” “No legal rights, but it’s half mine if you want to be fair.” “The old man didn’t have as much money as you think.” “I only want a few thousand. Big things are happening in Africa. An investment in one of the big African concerns and things will be a lot easier for all of us.” “No!” “I’ll be off.” “Don’t ever come in this house again!” “By the way, your wife’s in the basement.” “What?” “Like I told you when I came here I had the idea of killing you. I figured that the only way to get my share would be to inherit it, being your only relative, but as long as you had a wife I couldn’t inherit it, so I got rid of her first.” “Eva!” “In the basement.” George opens the basement door, and though choking on the gas he goes down the stairs. The door shuts behind him. She shouts up, “There’s no one here!” but when he tries to get out the knob comes off in his hand.

            Later, Eva comes back in the house. She sees Henry and asks, “Well?” “It’s done.” “Nothing went wrong?” “Well, he wouldn’t go down to shut off the gas, so I had to put him down.” “You didn’t hit him!” “How else could I get him down?” “You fool! This isn’t going to look very accidental!” “They’ll think he fell down the stairs and banged his head.” “You practically put us in the gas chamber!” “Everything is fine! I wiped up the blood.” “Blood?” “There there dear!” “Don’t touch me! And don’t call me dear! I wouldn’t be your dear if you were the last man in the world!” He slaps her face and says, “Just a bit more and we’ll be finished.” “Get me a drink will you?” He goes to the bar in the den and she goes to the phone. “Operator, get me the police!” Henry/Colin closes her connection. “Think it over. It was you that took the screw out of the knob. It was you that broke the gas pipe. They won’t find my fingerprints on anything. They prepare to leave. He tells her to call the police and tell them she’s shopping but her husband isn’t answering the phone. They say they’ll send an officer over. Henry suddenly realizes that he doesn’t have the photos of her and her boyfriend and must have dropped them in the basement. “Well go get them!” “I don’t think I can look at him!” There is no time to argue and so she goes down herself. The door closes behind her. He reaches into his pocket to look at the photos as she shouts from below that she can’t find them. He calls the police, telling them he is George and that they don’t have to come by after all. Eva tries to get out but the doorknob comes off. Colin picks up his gasman’s uniform and leaves as Eva’s banging becomes weaker and weaker until it stops.

            Eva was played by Lola Albright, who played Peter Gunn’s girlfriend on the TV series.