Murder is as Murder Does

"You… you poisoned her?" Narah whispered in the darkened alley.

She could hardly believe it, believe it had worked. Every other plan failed and spectacularly too. All but this one, she hadn't even hired a real assassin! Just a down on his luck teenager she had found by the docks and blackmailed into helping her. What a joke! She couldn't have gotten a better present and at a perfect time too.

"Drowned her too. Just in case." The boy, she never bothered with his name, responded.

That explained the water then, he was sopping wet and shivering. She could hardly care though, fighting the urge to laugh aloud in the secluded area. Oh, what a prize!

"You- You Rasputined her!" Narah spit out between stifled giggles. Oh, such karmic retribution this was, truly the best revenge she could ask for.

"I didn't shoot her…"

"That hardly matters, you lovely boy. What matters is that she's dead. Dead for good. Lying down with the dogs forever in a shallow grave."

"I didn't bury her either-"

"Details." She interrupted and waved his concerns away. She could deal with that later; say she drowned in the tub or something.

"You, my friend, are quite the catch I must admit." Her grin was slightly manic and it widened still as he took a slight step back. "A dozen assassins I hired to kill her for months now and they all failed. But drop a street rat into her house and he gets the job done!"

He had a slight frown on his face and looked like he was ready to run away, but now, she couldn't have that. He'd blab about it for sure, with his little street rat friends. Narah couldn't risk that gossip getting back to the wrong people. It was a good thing she crossed her fingers when she promised to let him go after one favor.

"Miss- um I did what you asked, may I…. may I leave now?" his voice was slightly squeaky as he huddled into himself, shivering in the biting wind. She could hardly feel it through her heavy coat.

"Yes, yes you did exactly what I asked and such a good job too," She purred circling him like a hunting cat. "And since you did such a good job wouldn't you like a reward?"

Her circling ceased and she came to a stop right in front of him. He shuffled back a bit but she just intruded more into his space. Oh no, couldn't have that now, could we? They were nose to nose once he had backed himself into a wall. How perfect, how quaint.

"I-I don't need a reward miss, I'd really just rather go home. You said if I did you favor you'd let me off about the stealing thing, you wouldn't tell a soul. And I did it, I killed her so- so can't I just go? Please miss? I've got other kiddies back at the docks, they'll be worried about me."

Aw how cute, mother henning the other street rats, was he? Well, that was too bad for them. They'd never see him again.

"Well, if you don't want a reward then I'm afraid we'll have to cut this meeting short," she smiled sweetly at the relieved look on his face. Oh, to be young and naïve and trusting.

"T-thank you miss-" he choked suddenly cutting off mid-sentence.

She didn't blame him ; she had, after all, just shoved her knife into his chest. Her sweet smile stayed on her face as she leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. Withdrawing her knife with a sickening sound. Oh, how red it was, oh, how warm. He collapsed, wheezing and clutching at the wound. It was bleeding too fast, nothing but the best doctors would save him and maybe not even them. They wouldn't be anywhere near him though, he was a street rat, no one cared for those.

"You are such a lovely boy." She sighed wistfully as she stroked her fingers across his cheek. "It's too bad, isn't it? But I'm afraid I can't have any witnesses to this. After all, two can only keep a secret if one of them is dead." She giggled sweetly and patted his cheek once again as he looked up at her in horror.

Breaths quick and staggering. He'd bleed out soon enough. Just another body in the alley, just another street rat ending in a shallow grave.

It was with a spring in her step that she entered the house. It was her house now; the deed went to her as the second daughter. She could do whatever she wanted with it, could burn it down if she so chose. Cackling, she dragged her fingernails against the walls, leaving ragged scratches in her wake. It was all Narah's now, not her sister's. She had been the eldest; the favored daughter and Narah had been neglected and ignored like a particularly nice vase you glanced at once or twice. But no more, now it was just Narah, and the house belonged to Narah and so everything in it belonged to Narah. Who was the favored daughter now?

Her cackling laughter split off in a panic when she entered the kitchen. There, sitting at the table sipping a mug full of tea, was her sister.

"Y-you're supposed to be dead." She choked out in horror.

With wet hair and a warm sweater, she looked like she had just come out of the shower. How was that possible?

"Well, my dear sister, I'm afraid like all the other attempts, it never really stuck."