Carl had arrived at Mr Grundy's house on the edge of the village and thought that it was very suitable indeed. He knocked at the old man's door and offered his services as a handyman. Mr Grundy was not a sociable person, he was a bit of a hermit, yet he invited the young man into his home.
The cottage would be a nice if it had been looked after properly. The paint on the window frames and the door was peeling and the walls, which had at one time been whitewashed, were discoloured and stained. The land around the house was littered with detritus. Mr Grundy did not like to throw anything away and piles of rusting metal, wood and tyres were accompanied by the obligatory shopping trolley.
"I thought you might need some help sorting out all of this stuff." Carl smiled and projected warmth towards Mr Grundy.
"Will you want paying for it?" Mr Grundy growled.
"I'm not here to take advantage of you, sir. Give me a chance to do some work and then see what you think I ought to be paid."
"Alright. But I will be keeping an eye on you lad. Don't think that any of this stuff is going your way without my permission."
"Of course not."
Investigations had revealed that Mr Grundy had no relatives and that made things easier. It took only a couple of visits for the old man to be convinced that Carl was indispensable. He moved to the next phase of his plan.
"You have no family Mr Grundy?"
"No, lad. I like to be on my own. Never wanted a wife."
"What will happen to this place once you are gone? Someone will probably come in here, a builder or a developer, and will pull the cottage down. They could fit about 10 houses on this site."
"I wouldn't want that."
"Well, you will have to think about it at some time. Maybe leave the place to a person who will look after it and keep it like it is."
"I suppose you think that I should leave it to you?"
"If you have someone else in mind, leave it to them. If you don't, then I think it might be a good idea to let me have it."
When they visited the solicitor to make a will, the lawyer thought that the arrangement was perfectly reasonable, as well. Mr Grundy had no one to leave his money and property to. Why not bequeath his possessions to a young man who had helped him so much?
In order for Carl to inherit the house, Mr Grundy had to die. His demise had to look like natural causes otherwise it could lead to an investigation of Carl's relationship with the old man. A newly made will, in favour of someone who had only known him for weeks, would make him a suspect. It was time to take action.
Mr Grundy was seventy-eight years old. He was a smoker and when he moved Carl would listen to him wheeze. This was a man who was not far away from a heart attack. All Carl had to do was engineer a situation to make this happen. He had an ace up his sleeve which would terrify the old man and therefore get the job done.
"I'm going to get rid of some of this old furniture today, Mr Grundy."
"Okay, lad. Let me know what you are going to chuck out."
"I'm going to start upstairs. Come up with me and I'll tell you what I'm going to do."
Getting to the top of the stairs, Grundy was out of breath. Carl made him climb to the first floor a number of times, that morning, and eventually, they sat down in the kitchen.
"Oh, I need a rest, lad. I can barely catch my breath. And the old ticker is fairly hammering."
"You have a rest. I'll put the kettle on."
The rattle of the lid being removed was followed by the sound of running water. Then there was a noise that could not be identified. A noise which was unnerving.
"What's that? Did you speak? It sounded more like a growl."
The noises behind Grundy were getting louder.
"What are you doing back there, lad. What's happened to your face? And your hands, thems looks like claws not nails. It is you isn't it, Carl?"
The thing that was Carl, but not Carl at the same time, moved closer.
"Get away from me. Don't come any nearer. Them claws and teeth, their horrible. No. NO.
Carl watched as Mr Grundy clutched at his chest. Covered in a sheen of sweat the old man slumped off of his chair onto the floor. Staying long enough to ensure that the he was dead, Carl then headed back to Hannah. With a little work, she would be convinced that he had been with her all day. That was an alibi sorted, just in case.
A young man, who had helped around the house and been added to Grundy's will, would come under suspicion. The death would be confirmed as by natural causes, but having Hannah back him up would help. His powers of persuasion and her guileless character would see them in the clear.
There was no one to contest the will, but these things took time to settle. A visit to the lawyer resulted in Carl being given the keys to the cottage before the formalities were complete. He was going to inherit it anyway, so why not let him move in straight away. It was a very good idea they decided. The autopsy on Mr Grundy confirmed that he had died of natural causes. There was, however, nothing natural about the events which had led up to his death.