other kind of simple viral infection! But one thing bothered Samuel. How long is the medicine noticeable? It was another sleep ridden night for Samuel, till the next morning when a sample was drawn and the coolant smelled clean again. He had it 'Made in the Shade'!
For the next six months, he had gotten his revenge on the ones who just simply wouldn't stop their verbal attacks. He purposely went to the cafeteria on a daily basis, just to listen to the horror stories of his so called 'victims', and laughed at hearing all of the wacky diagnoses they had gotten from their doctors. One was even prescribed pills for low blood pressure, just to be on the safe side! “Good!” He thought and smiled. “Gives them country bumpkins something to spend their wages on instead of wasting it every Friday on beer and chips!” One day in the cafeteria, eating alone as usual, he overheard them comparing their stories when one of them piped up, asking the group; “Seems sort of funny to me that every time one of us gets ill, it's always right after ' the refugee' was standing around our machines!” Samuel took his tray and left the cafeteria. He decided then to lay low for a few months, and take the abuse as it came. Sort of a biblical 'turning the other cheek', but only waiting out his time for 'an eye for an eye'! The epoch came around the end of November. The specifics of the verbal attack are of no importance anymore, but the leading man was, as usual, Marcus.
Samuel had decided on the weekend that he would have to go one step further, and so on Monday, while he was hanging around and taking his time doing the measurements at the machine, Marcus set his coffee down. Then he left the machine and went to the storage room to get a new tool for the machine. That was when Samuel dumped five of his ungrounded pills into the coffee cup. He observed Marcus as he came back to his milling machine and started stirring the sugar in the coffee with his spoon. “Yeah, that’s the way to do it! Stir it up real good!” Sam thought as he walked away.
Approximately two hours later, it was all over. Everybody had left the company, the ambulance, the Medical Examiner, and the police. Marcus was to be brought to the morgue for an autopsy. Samuel had purposely worked overtime so as not to be questioned by the detectives upon leaving the company. As he was running his company card over the time clock, his boss saw him. “Samuel! What are you still doing here so late?” “Had some stuff to do over in the other plant.” Samuel answered.
The autopsy brought no results, for they didn't even consider drugs. So no blood screening was done. In the end the death was classified as a heart failure from unknown causes. Samuel was written sick from his doctor so he wouldn't loose his job, but he just couldn't go back into work right now. As the weeks wore on, things at the company went back to the status quo. But for Samuel, there was no more status quo.
His parents were currently away on vacation, and Samuel had been simply hanging around in the garage since the weekend. They found Samuel hanging from an electrical cord, which he had tied to the main water line running across the ceiling in his parents’ garage. “There was nothing anyone could've done to save him,” said the Medical Examiner. “If he even took only half of the prescription bottle it would be enough to knock a horse off his feet!” “But he wasn't taking any chances with his medication not working, so he added a noose as a guarantee.” The detective said. “Then he kicked the ladder out from his feet to get it over with.” “In my opinion, he was lucky to even get the noose over his head after taking the pills!” Commented the Medical Examiner. “These babies are strong, too many and they are deadly!” “Detective, take a look at this.” The uniformed officer said. “Apparently his suicide letter is also the clue to the death of his co-worker a few weeks ago.” The laptop computer was still turned on and Samuels’s last Word document was still open for those who would find him to read. Next to the laptop lay the empty prescription bottle of his medication. The Word document was his story about how it all started, and how he was going to end it. In it he said he was sorry for his act of poisoning Marcus, it should have never come to this, and that after the funeral, and he couldn't live with the responsibility of Marcus’s death any more. After his typed name, came the post-script. “Make sure that Marcus's brother reads this, so that he maybe will learn some professionalism.” The detective frowned, and asked loudly; “What the devil is this supposed to mean?” The uniformed officer grimly asked him; “The big question is who exactly the perpetrator is, and who is the victim? One or the other? Both of them at the same time?” The detective sighed and said; “I hate the paperwork this will generate! I need a vacation!”
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Thank you for reading my book. If you enjoyed it, won’t you please take a moment to leave me a review at your favorite retailer, post a link on Facebook, LinkedIn, Google+, Redit or Pin it, or any of the many other social media sites. Thank you! David Jensen - Author
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