DEAD STRAIGHT

Crime never pays, as is shown in this story, even when someone tries to wreak revenge and mete out their versionvof

There not being a moonlit night suited his purpose. He had waited for such a time as this. In this garret of a room, where he had been lodging since the day his world came to an end, he now sat at the edge of the flea-ridden excuse of a bed, as he carefully donned his shabby, moth-eaten coat and gloves.

The rain spattered on the window-pane, and he smiled, knowing the preparations for this act of his, worked out to the minutest detail, were going to be rewarded by the weather. His grin widened at the thought that by the end of this night the grief he had suffered all these days, weeks, months and years would have come to a swift end.

He was alone, but not lonely. He had been cast out into utter darkness, as the good book says. Well, here it was - the darkness - his friend. He snuffed out the candle beside the bed and crept towards the door. Slowly and noiselessly turning the handle, he opened the door. The landing was unlit, as he expected. As he moved along like a prowling alley cat, he could hear loud snores, emanating from his somewhat corpulent landlady’s room, which was distinctly out of bounds except perhaps for her gentleman callers, of whom there were quite a number.

Sneaking swiftly down the stairs to the front-door, he unlocked the chain and turned the latch, as though he stood opposite an inviting safe, with his ears attentive to every sound, of which there was thankfully for him none. He opened the door to reveal a street in complete darkness, except for a faint light from the house on the other side.

He was ready now. In his pocket he had his torch and the object, with which his future would be assured in one fell swoop. His face lit up with this wonderful prospect of freedom. He closed the door behind him without so much as a click. He figuratively pulled himself up and walked ahead with a growing confidence, which he had lacked before this night.

It would not take long for him to reach his destination (or to describe it more accurately) his ultimate destiny. “Perhaps that is stretching things a bit far”, he chuckled. He was so pleased with himself, the time passed very quickly and before he knew it, he was standing in front of the front-door. He had known this house for years like the back of his hand. It had after all belonged to his family for generations, and now this interloper had usurped his right to own it.

She had beguiled him all their married life and he had been taken for the fool he was. His friends had tried to warn him off her, and her friends just despised him. He had ignored the former and suffered in silence the snide remarks and innuendos from the latter. Well, tonight he had decided to redress the balance.

But no-one was to suspect that he had been the culprit for this unfortunate turn of events. He had plans to disappear and lie low, while they (and of course the police!) searched for him in the usual and not so usual places. He would not be found where he was going.

Suddenly the beautiful thoughts he had been daydreaming ceased, as he lingered on the front-step, a cold shiver creeping down his spine, despite the fact he had everything ready with a duplicate key made, so there would be no need for breaking and entering like a thief. He had the concealed weapon to hand, and tonight he would ensure he would leave not a single trace of his movements, but for a few seconds he froze, as he remembered all those years of being treated like a doormat.

A transformation at once took hold of him as waves of incandescent rage overwhelmed him in a tsunami of protest, as he remembered how his work colleagues referred to him as such a gentle soul, who was so quiet and unassuming. He sneered at the thought, because he was convinced they laughed at him behind his back.

“What did they know about me? Those fools! I’ll show them. In fact I’ll show the world what I am capable of, but they will never know.”

He gently took the handle, having unlocked the front-door and began soundlessly to twist it. He was now determined more than ever to complete his task. He had checked from outside the house was indeed in complete darkness, his friend, and it was so. He smiled, or perhaps it was a smirk, as he gradually opened the door to reveal his precious kingdom, laid out before its prince, come to claim it back.

He silently purred with delight like a cat having found the cream, and looked forward to his prey. He crept through the shadowy lounge towards the stairs, which led up to the landing and finally to her room. By this time, clasping the dark shape of the knife in his right hand, he started to climb, as he gripped the banister with his left.

He saw her now as the squeaking little mouse, not the tigress bully. Not needing courage to perform this wayward miracle, he could be his own man, as she paid for all the slights and insults. Moving slowly and deliberately, he made sure he avoided any furniture or other hidden obstacles.

He now stood in front of the bedroom door. He could hear her screeching snores, as they rose and fell in cacophonous regularity. He was ready. He opened the door and smiled again. Then as if by lightning the deed was done, and she was dispatched with just a few downward strokes. She just groaned at the first one but went limp from the second onwards. He made sure that there were enough.

He retraced his steps in exactly the way he had come. The alley cat had caught his quarry and altered its appearance into an inanimate cadaver, fit only for burial in the ground. He soon found himself back in the street, and encountered his friend again, the darkness, which accompanied him all the way back to his lugubrious, filthy lodgings.

Upon reaching his room, he swiftly packed into a battered suitcase what few possessions he had assembled. He washed the blood off the knife and carefully inserted that among his things. He would ensure he was armed in case of further trouble, if he found himself in a tight corner with one assailant, who could be dispatched with relative ease. Any more in numbers, then the odds were stacked against him, and flight was the only option, if it was indeed an option in the circumstances. He would have to be careful in his movements from now on.   

He decided not to wait until morning, but to leave that hovel, and walk, walk, walk. He had done it before on the hunger marches with his mates, so it was nothing new to him. He had about six hours ahead of him before it would start to dawn, and she would be discovered. No-one of any consequence, in other words none of his family, knew where he had been staying since the break-up. Nor had she or any of her family. He had made sure of that in his preparations. He was going to live a new life under a new name. The old one had served its purpose, and it was time for it to be struck off the record for ever.

Eventually he got to the coast after many days’ walking. He had somehow managed to find somewhere to sleep by day as well as occasionally food and drink to keep him going. He had kept some money by for this very reason. He had also changed his appearance. Despite the fact he was living the life of a tramp, he was determined to present himself as a tidy, semi-professional person with standards to maintain.

He was succeeding, because no-one questioned him in an aggressive manner. Just passing the time of day. He even had a chat with a local bobby, who seemed a nice enough bloke. It was going so swimmingly until he reached the port, where he got into a spot of bother.

It was then he picked up a newspaper, which carried the banner headline: “Woman stabbed in her bed. Man identified at bed and breakfast as suspect”. How could they have linked the two together? He suddenly felt again that cold shiver down his spine. He was walking like a dead man. It would not be long. He realized he would never get away now.

He was so engrossed in reading the newspaper, that he gave a start, when a hand grabbed his shoulder from behind, and an authoritative voice spoke: “Hello Sir! May I ask you a few questions?” He turned to face the man, and knew.