She looked up at her attacker and then down at the blood spreading across the white crisp shirt she always wore for work. Both her hands were clutching at her stomach, trying to stem the flow, but she knew that wouldn't help. She was starting to fade out now, she looked at him again. He was just a hobo who had been hanging around between the station and the office for the last week. She had seen him as she had bought her coffee from the street vender and walked into the office. She didn’t know why he had stabbed her. She didn't carry large amounts of money and she was just a secretary at one of the big legal firms. She hadn't thought she had any enemies. Then she saw it in his eyes and everything became clear.
'Sorry,' she whispered, as a tear trickled down her cheek. Her eyes glazed over and she was gone. The hobo was walking away before the crowds began to gather and the police arrived.
The hobo turned the corner and quickly jumped behind the wheel of a black SUV, careful to drive in the opposite direction to the hubbub he had just left. Fifteen minutes later he pulled onto the driveway and used the remote control to open the garage door. Once the car was parked and the garage door closed, he got out of the car and entered the utility room, which already had polythene sheeting on the floor. Standing in the middle of the sheeting, he carefully felt around under his hairline in the nape of his neck. Locating what he was looking for he started to pull. As he pulled a large ripping sound could be heard as his skin opened to reveal a large zip. He continued to pull until the zip was undone down to the base of his spine and he then carefully removed the hobo suit. It took another hour to package the suit in the plastic sheeting. All the time being very careful that nothing from the hobo should be left behind. Once he was convinced that the clean-up was complete he packaged the garbage into a large holdall and left it on the front seat of the SUV. He walked away from the house he had never seen before today and had no intention of ever seeing again.
The police had no reason the suspect Dave Brubeck of his wife's murder, as twenty witnesses had seen a hobo stab her in the middle of the town square. They never even questioned where he had been on that day.
The life insurance came through quickly, but that was just an added bonus. The bitch had been cheating with that jumped up arsehole of a boss. Just because Dave worked in construction and that guy was a high flying lawyer, didn't make him somehow better than Dave. But Daisy had thought so. She thought Dave didn't know about the affair, but she had realised just before she died. He had seen it in her eyes. The man who sold him the suit had said the only thing you couldn’t disguise was your eyes. Dave knew Daisy had recognised him. He had got the hobo suit off the internet, through a chat room where he had been looking for advice about what to do over his cheating bitch of a wife. $500 to buy the suit, $100,000 to have it removed. The $100,000 could be paid after any insurance monies were received. The day after Dave received his pay-out the first phone call came.
'Dave,' said the whispered voice he had heard once before. 'It's time to pay what you owe.'
'I don't know what you mean. I don't owe anyone any money.'
'Come on now Dave. You know who we are; we need to be paid for the clean-up. The suit didn’t vanish on its own.'
'No I am afraid I don't know who you are.'
'Dave, you were warned.'
'What are you going to do? Everyone knows my wife was killed by a hobo.'
'We have the suit.'
'I don't think you will be taking that to the police. And even if you did, you have no proof I wore it.'
'You have three days to pay.'
Dave had slammed down the phone. The voice had a menacing quality that Dave couldn't place. It was gravely and whispered but sounded cold, cold enough to chill you to the bone. These people didn't know where he lived, so he knew they would never track him down. Over the next three days they rang every morning before he left for work and he said the same every time.
On the fourth morning there was no phone call. Finally, thought Dave, they have got the message, they are not getting paid. He enjoyed an uninterrupted breakfast, and at his usual time left for work.
As he pulled off his drive he had to slam on the breaks as a hobo walked across the front of his car. The hobo turned and stared at him. He couldn’t place why, but he felt a chill. The hobo moved on, but at the next set of lights there was another one. Dave was sure there had never this many hobos on his drive to work; maybe he was just being extra sensitive. Finally he turned the corner and pulled into the car park at his office. He got out of the car, and turned as he heard his name. There standing in front of him was a tall hobo. The hobo lunged forward and pushed the knife he was holding deep into Dave's stomach. Dave looked at him in disbelief. Then he realised. The eyes. Daisy's lover.