Murder by Class

Marisa thought, I've finally caught the miserable bastard with his slut. She decided to wait a few minutes before confronting them face to face. It couldn't be much more than that, she chuckled softly, in spite of her rising anger. The son of a bitch is lousy at foreplay and has a quick trigger in the saddle.

So intent was Marisa on catching her errant mate in flagrante delicto that she failed to notice the person approaching from the trees directly behind her car. If she had, it would have been the last thing she would ever notice. The intruder walked quietly up to the driver's side of Marisa's automobile and blew most of her head off with a double-barreled, 12-gauge shotgun. Both barrels were fired in instant succession. One alone was enough. The killer then slipped back among the trees and quickly exited on the other side and stepped into a waiting automobile. Gone before Marisa's husband had a chance to get very far along in his adulterous endeavor. The murder weapon was found in the trees near the killing. It bore the fingerprints of Gino Anthony Martelli, who everyone called Tony. It should. It was Tony Martelli's gun.

Persuaded that this was a ruse, Marisa provided dinner for her children, and then asked a neighbor to watch them for an hour or so as she ran an important errand. She drove to the college close to eight p.m. and waited out of sight for Tony to emerge from the college offices. When he drove away, Marisa followed him keeping enough distance to remain undetected as dusk descended. Tagging along in this fashion she observed Tony pull into the parking lot of a seedy bar in Yermo, California, about 10 miles due east from Barstow.

Marisa situated herself with a good view of the bar's parking area, but out of direct line of sight, so she could see whom Tony would emerge with. The wait was short. Tony and the woman he met at the bar came out after twenty minutes and drove to the Cabin Motel where Tony had pre-registered earlier that afternoon. They entered Cabin C of the run down motel, which pun makers whimsically referred to as - the motel no tell - and sequestered themselves inside.

It was dark by that time. But sufficient light coming from the motel enabled Marisa to locate along a tree line just outside of the motel's parking lot, and she could see Tony and his slut, as Marisa called her, enter the cabin. Her attention was so focused on the cabin door and the sordid activities she visualized taking place behind it, however, that she never heard or saw the murderer who launched her into eternity with Tony Martelli's shotgun.