Alfred Joseph was a nice man. The type of man who would lend you his umbrella even if it meant he got sodden wet. The type of guy that would drive miles out of his way to make sure his friends got back ok. Even strangers sometimes. The type who would always bring far more than he needed to when invited to a party, but wouldn’t be annoyed if guests didn’t bring anything when he hosted.
Indeed, he was a legend in the small town for his kindness and generosity. When little Bobby Firman broke his leg and missed out on his trip to Disneyland, Alfred was the one who set up a fundraiser and gave generously himself to make sure Bobby could go when his leg was better. When Alfred’s competitor for the Best Homemade Lemonade was disqualified through an overzealous technicality, Alfred made sure she was reinstated, even though it meant he lost out on the prize. When the town was voted among the least desirable, Alfred used it as motivation to help change its whole perception. He worked harder than anyone cleaning up the parks, scrubbing off graffiti and helping to improve dilapidated buildings. And smiled his way throughout.
People would ask for his advice all the time and he would never mind, even when he was out shopping or in a hurry. He made so much time for everyone that people often joked that he must have more hours in the day than everybody else. It was that same humour that led people to comment that the town’s most popular attraction wasn’t the majestic 40-foot arch by the town hall, but rather the short, bespectacled and much-loved Mr Joseph. Which made the fact he wanted to kill his wife all the more surprising…
That’s the opening to my short story “Motive, Murder, Method” from my third book Always Never, Rarely Sometimes. I wanted to thank those of you who had got a copy so far and to let you know that my website http://www.alexanderraphaelwriter.com/ with all the details has now been updated. I hope you guys are all well.
