The Knickknack Witnesses

The miniature statue of a bull had sat on top of Jack’s desk in his home office for a little over a year. Despite previously decorating the offices of one defense attorney and two politicians, the bull felt that Jack somehow managed to be the biggest asshole of them all. It was unclear what Jack did for a living but it definitely involved money, and money changes people.

Jack may have always been insufferable though. According to the wooden mallard who had been sitting on the bookshelf to the left of the door for the past twenty years, Jack had been a dubious character before he had become successful. Describing someone as a “dubious character” was the closest the mallard ever came to insulting anyone. The statue of a golfer that sat on a bookshelf to the right was more forthcoming with the slurs and the stories that justified them. Jack had an unquenchable thirst for money and power, and when he had too much of it to drink, the son of a bitch became intolerable.

***

Jack placed his finger on the bull’s forehead and ran it down along the length of his spine to his rump. The bull cringed at his touch. The desk sat in the middle of the room so that Jack and the bull were pointed at the door. The bull was grateful that he didn’t face the other way or else he would be stuck staring at Jack’s face all day. Initially, the bull was confused by the stroke of Jack’s finger until he yelled, “Maria!”

“Uh oh,” said the mallard.

A young, attractive Latino woman wearing a black and white maid uniform entered the office with her head bowed and eyes cast downward. She had not been working for Jack long. The previous maid had quit after Jack had groped her.

“Did you dust in here?” Jack asked.

“Yes sir,” she said meekly.

“Well, it doesn’t fucking look like it!” Jack yelled, “Seriously. You have the simplest job! Keep things clean! It requires no education and yet, you can’t seem to manage it. What if I had you deported, huh? Back to Mexico or wherever you come from! There aren’t enough rich people in your country to employ all of you.”

The colour drained from her face and her eyes widened in panic.

“I’ll clean it again sir,” she said quickly.

“See that you do,” the bull heard Jack sit back down in his chair and Maria quickly left the room.

***

Another reason the bull was grateful that he faced the door was that he didn’t have to watch Jack fuck his mistress on the desk. The bull was uncomfortably close to the heavy breathing, slapping of skin, and “Oh gawd’s!”

“Really?!” the golfer said, “In the family home?”

“They both probably get off on it,” the bull muttered.

“Where’s Emily?” asked the mallard, referring to Jack’s wife.

“It’s Tuesday so probably book club,” the golfer answered.

Suddenly, the bull found himself flying through the air. The mistress, in a moment of passion, had knocked the bull off the desk. He landed with a thud on the plush area rug.

“You okay?!” the mallard gasped.

“I’ll survive,” the bull mumbled into the carpet.

***

Maria came in the next morning and frowned as she picked the bull up from the floor. She placed the bull back on the desk facing the wrong way. As she came around the desk to go about the cleaning, she paused and stared. Sunlight revealed a very obvious ass print on the surface. The bull could see comprehension in Maria’s face.

“Uh oh,” the mallard said. “You think she’s going to tell Emily?”

“Who knows?” the golfer said.

***

It was late at night and Jack had been lecturing his son, Junior, for almost an hour. Apparently, Junior was at risk of getting kicked out of university due to his poor performance. The bull could see Junior in the reflection of the window. He sat slumped in a chair across from the desk looking withdrawn and tired while Jack paced back and forth, yelling and waving his arms to emphasize his anger. Jack had expected his namesake and only child to follow in his footsteps.

“Dad, I told you I didn’t want to go into finance,” Junior attempted to interrupt the tirade feebly.

“I don’t care what you want!” Jack shouted and started jabbing the top of the desk with his finger. “I’m telling you right now, if you don’t graduate, you can say goodbye to any future financial support from me! I’ll even cut you out of my will! Now get out!”

Jack pointed at the door. Junior’s face hardened in a way the bull had never seen before. He slowly stood up from the chair and left the room. Jack glared at his back and then glanced down at the bull. With a quick twist, he turned the bull around to face the door again.

***

The door to the office had been left open. The knickknacks listened as Emily talked on the phone while pacing the main floor the next morning.

“I know if I left him, he would make my life a living hell,” Emily was saying.

“Sounds like she knows about the affair,” the mallard said.

The golfer scoffed, “Or she’s just tired of being married to a prick.”

The bull remained silent and thoughtful.

“Well, originally I was waiting until Junior was old enough so that there wouldn’t be a custody battle, but now…” Emily trailed off.

“She’s scared,” the bull realized.

“Divorce is such a mess,” Emily declared, defeated.

***

It was late and it had been quiet for awhile.

“What’s he doing?” the bull asked, unable to see behind him.

“He’s having a whiskey,” the mallard answered.

The bull had felt Jack prop his feet up on the desk earlier.

“His mistress must be out of town too,” the golfer observed. Emily was away for the weekend at a family function Jack had refused to attend. Junior had gone back to campus, supposedly to salvage his grades. When Maria realized she was alone with Jack, she finished up quickly and left. The house was quiet.

Jack and the knickknacks were very familiar with the noises of the house and all of them became more alert when there were a few creaks and shifts that suggested someone else was in the home. Jack lowered his feet and sat up straight, listening.

The knob turned and the office door was slowly pushed open. The intruder was framed perfectly in the doorway. Jack and the bull both frowned in confusion.

“Who is it?!” the mallard hissed.

Jack started to stand and say something but the intruder raised an arm to point a gun at him. Jack froze. The first shot sent Jack’s body flying back into his chair. There were a few seconds of hesitation and then a second shot. The bull felt warm blood spray across his back.

The mallard and the golfer started exclaiming, “Oh my god!” repeatedly. The murderer turned and left without checking Jack’s pulse. The bull was stunned, unable to answer the torrent of questions from the other knickknacks for several minutes.

“Hey! Seriously! Who was it?” the golfer demanded.

The bull finally shook off the shock and managed to respond.

“Guess.”

***

The investigation had been going on for a week with no arrests.

“It had to be the wife. I swear I heard high heels when the murderer approached,” the mallard said.

“Witnesses are terribly unreliable. I don’t remember hearing heels. The detectives said she was with her family. Besides, the maid could have worn heels,” the golfer argued.

“Have you ever seen the maid wear heels?” the mallard asked.

“No, but she always has to wear her uniform,” the golfer countered.

“The maid had an alibi too. She was with her kid. And she looked pretty shocked when she found Jack the next day,” The mallard reminded.

“She could have been playing the part. And I don’t think her three-year-old counts as a reliable witness,” The golfer said. None of them had known Maria was a single mother.

“True,” the mallard agreed. “Maybe the threat of her and her kid getting deported was too much.”

They were silent for a few moments.

“What if it was the mistress?!” The mallard said excitedly.

The golfer sighed, “Why would the mistress kill Jack?”

“Maybe she wanted to be the wife and he said no,” the mallard suggested.

“Yeah right!” the golfer scoffed. “I think she knew better than that.”

“Maybe she didn’t know she was the mistress and got mad,” the mallard proposed.

“There are family photos everywhere! She’d have to be pretty stupid,” the golfer declared.

More thoughtful silence.

“I think it was the son,” the golfer stated, “The murderer didn’t even enter the room which means they were a confident shot. Didn’t Jack and his son used to go hunting together?”

“Yeah,” the mallard said slowly, probably still thinking of the click of the heels, “but stuff was taken. The detectives said jewelry and other valuables were missing. Why would the son steal if he was going to inherit?”

“Stealing throws off the authorities. And he wouldn’t inherit, Emily would. But now he has some valuables and he can do whatever he wants without getting screamed at,” the golfer explained.

“Or maybe it was just a robbery gone wrong!” the mallard said hopefully, not wanting to believe Junior capable of murder.

They thought this over.

“Nah,” the golfer finally said, “Jack seemed confused when the murderer opened the door but not alarmed. He would have been alarmed if there had been a stranger standing there.”

The arguments continued.

***

A few months passed and the case went cold. The detectives released the crime scene. Maria and Emily cleaned out the home office without hesitation. The knickknacks got thrown into a box for a couple days and then found themselves on a shelf in a goodwill store.

“Well, this is humiliating,” the golfer admitted.

The bull was tense. Jack had been a tough pill to swallow but the bull had still found this past year to be one of the best of his existence because of the company. Would they be separated? What if the bull ended up in the office of another jerk? What if the next office didn’t have other knickknacks to talk to? What if the new knickknacks were jerks too? What would happen to them if they didn’t sell? The bull could tell the mallard and the golfer were worried too and decided to distract them.

“It was the wife,” the bull blurted out.

“What?!” the golfer exclaimed.

“No!” the mallard hissed in disbelief.

“Yup,” the bull confirmed, “And she was not wearing high heels.”

“But the whole family said Emily was with them!” the mallard said ignoring the bull’s slightly mocking tone.

“They lied,” the bull said.

“Wow,” the mallard breathed, finding it unbelievable the whole family helped Emily get away with murder.

An old lady plucked the bull from the shelf, looked the statue over and then placed him in her shopping cart. The bull managed a quick “good luck” to his friends before being pushed around the corner of the aisle and out of sight.

***

The bull had been a gift to the old lady’s grandson who had just gotten a new job. His latest owner placed the bull on a shelf in the corner of his office. He was young, clean shaven and wore a modest suit. Both cheeks had dimples, making the bull hopeful that he enjoyed smiling. The rest of the shelves were still empty, but the bull could hear two voices and a burst of laughter coming from one of the boxes. He would get to introduce himself soon. Time would tell if the bull’s new owner was a decent human being, or another asshole.