Red or Dead? | Katie Brice


Red or Dead?

Katie Brice

The Murder Internationale Award


Without fail, every time Red put on his uniform he’d spill something down himself.

Every. Bloody. Time.


Today was of course no exception. Who knew there’d be tomato in an egg and cress sandwich? It was said tomato that escaped the airport café baguette, and slid down the front of his pinstriped tie landing squarely on his paunch.


He used the napkin provided with the sandwich to irritably wipe the remnants away from his person.


Red was surprised that he even had an appetite after the events of the last few days. Actually, now he comes to think about it, he can’t remember the last time he did eat. It hadn’t been on his priority list of late.


Three days earlier Red had murdered his only brother.


Five days earlier he had discovered the evidence of his wife and brother’s affair. An affair, it would seem, that had spanned over a decade. He would probably have killed Eliza too, had she not been dead already.


He’d nursed Eliza through her remaining two years of multiple sclerosis. He’d given up work willingly to devote his life to the remaining few years of hers. If only he’d known.


The endless tears they’d both cried over the inevitable parting that they would have to face. He wondered now what her tears really symbolised. Guilt? Regret? Pity? He’d never know.


An airport passenger announcement about some unclaimed baggage broke his thoughts. He glanced down at his own baggage for the hundredth time to check it was still there. He rested his hand reassuringly on top of the small, carry on case.


The bag contained a large amount of incriminating evidence that in addition to himself, he wanted to eradicate from the country. He shouldn’t have any problems at airport security with the contents. Dubai, he thought would be a good place to start afresh.


He made his way confidently to Gate 12 wondering if his feet would ever again touch Australian soil. The thought neither worried nor excited him.


He watched the passengers in front of him embark the plane. He was feeling a little twitchy. He pulled his starched collar away from his neck a little as though this somehow increased oxygen to his airways.


Once aboard the plane Red started to relax a little. He adjusted himself in his seat making himself comfortable. Closing his eyes momentarily, he took in a deep breath.


He could do this.


He reached forward pulling the microphone towards him.


“Good morning passengers and welcome to the Flight DL78 to Dubai”