Free How Not To Commit Murder - comedy crime - humorous mystery by Robin Storey

dinner cooked; we’ve got to be there by seven. I’ll do some toasted sandwiches.’
    She busied herself in the kitchen. ‘You go and have a cold shower to sober up.’
    ‘That’s an old wives’ tale, it doesn’t make the slightest difference.’
    ‘Have one anyway,’ said Carlene. ‘And I’ll make you a strong black coffee.’
    ***
    Reuben felt no better after a cold shower and a black coffee. He remembered now, that was the worst part about drinking in the afternoon, having a hangover at night. It was unnatural, like having bacon and eggs for dinner. His conversation with Frank was forefront in his mind. Were his words just an empty threat, an angry venting from someone nursing a grudge? What if he was serious about maiming or killing Lucy – what was Reuben supposed to do? He couldn’t stand by and let it happen to anyone – but especially not to Lucy. He’d never forgive himself. It was too hard to think about it now, his head was throbbing too much.
    The New Light Mission was in Coorparoo, on the other side of the Brisbane River through the Clem Jones tunnel. Known as the Clem 7, it was touted as Brisbane’s biggest white elephant, due to the low traffic flow and its operator’s massive financial loss. But it certainly made the trip quicker and easier, and they arrived at the church in a suburban street, in twenty minutes.
    A small figurine of Jesus on the cross, beside the words ‘New Light Mission’ at the front were the only things that distinguished it from neighbouring houses. Behind it was the church hall where the auction was being held – a long wooden building strung with fairy lights. The scent of newly mown grass filled the air.
    ‘It doesn’t look like a church,’ Reuben said. He carried a Glad-wrapped plate of buttered pikelets - everyone had been asked to bring a plate to contribute to supper.
    ‘Pastor Bryan purposely had it built like that,’ Carlene said. ‘He wanted it to blend in with the surroundings because that’s how he thinks religion should be – a part of your everyday life, not something expensive and showy.’
    In that case, why build a church at all? Why not divert the cost of building it to charity and use someone’s garden shed? Reuben kept his thoughts to himself – to Carlene and her family, Pastor Bryan was an angel in disguise.
    The hall was a riot of chatter and activity. The cent auction had been billed as a ‘fun family night for all ages’, a signal for everyone to bring as many children as they could find. Kids ran and shouted on the lawn, and ducked and wove amongst the throng inside. Pastor Bryan stood at the front door greeting the guests as they entered. He was a stout, ruddy-faced man with a thatch of white hair.
    ‘I’m so pleased to meet you, Reuben,’ he said with a toothy smile. His trousers and jacket were ill-fitting and he seemed uncomfortable in them. Reuben wondered if he was more at home in his dog-collar. Then he remembered Carlene had said Pastor Bryan didn’t believe in elevating himself above his flock by wearing priestly garments. They shook hands – his hand was warm and damp. Despite the chill in the air, his mottled complexion glowed with a sheen of perspiration.
    ‘Carlene has told me so much about you. Perhaps I’ll see you one day at church.’
    Reuben mustered his warmest smile. ‘I’m afraid that won’t be happening, Pastor,’ he said with deep sincerity. He caught a flash of the Pastor’s disconcerted expression as he entered the hall.
    A middle-aged woman in a floral pinafore bustled over, enveloped Carlene in her arms and pressed her to her bosom. ‘Hullo, darling, how are you? And this must be Reuben. No wonder you’ve been hiding him, he’s too handsome to let on the loose.’
    She released Carlene and lunged towards Reuben. He thrust the pikelets in front of him and held out his hand. ‘Pleased to meet you.’
    The woman looked disappointed, then smiled and shook his hand.
    ‘I’m Irene. I’ll take