Chapter 18 A Near Miss For Guy
It was a bright sunny day and Roger Grey was bored out of his mind and when he was in this sort of mood he had a hankering to murder someone and he didn’t much care who it was in particular. Thomas Burgess had been the penultimate victim on his hit list and he didn’t want to rush into things as he had with Burgess. The venue where Burgess met his maker was one of his own choosing, although he hadn’t intended to be a client of the Crematorium.
Roger smiled as he remembered the look on Burgess’ face as he pushed him into the coffin and he muttered to himself, ‘A fitting end to someone who burns their fingers taking other people’s money.’
* * *
Thomas Burgess was in rather a good mood and rightly so. He had worked just a little over a year at a new job. It was off the beaten track and the journey was excessively long. His work day started at five am to be able to reach his office by 7:30. Leaving his flat just before 6am, he would have to travel a ten minute journey by taxi to a bus depot, a bus ride that would take three quarters of an hour and his final leg a train trip of 20 minutes followed by a short walk to his place of work. He was one of the new announcers at Charing Cross Railway Station. Collecting his plastic cup of coffee each morning as regular as clockwork, he climbed the many steps up to his office that was suspended from the ceiling and from there he could view the whole station. He checked the listing of train times he would have to announce when his shift started at 8am. He reflected on the fact that today was his last day as a announcer, for he had been promoted to Supervisor in the main office. He was to take over Malcolm Sturridge’s job who had unfortunately stumbled forward onto the railway live rail. The report was somewhat hazy as the authorities believed someone had quickly walked from the scene of the incident, but no-one could identify who it was. There were so many conflicting reports and of course Thomas Burgess who was interviewed later on that day was in the Coffee Shop at the time of the accident. It was Malcolm’s funeral tomorrow and Thomas Burgess as the new supervisor thought it would look good if he attended to say his goodbyes and thank him at the same time for his job.
His best friends wouldn’t have recognised Burgess as with his share of the stolen money he had spent most of it on a face job. He had left his wife and their three children behind to fend for themselves. He thought more of self preservation than he did of them after twenty years of marriage. He hadn’t given it a thought when he left. On whether they would survive, he couldn’t have cared less. He was a callous soul-less person and as to the Sturridge demise, he hadn’t thought that pushing him off the platform would be classed as murder. Everyone is jostled on a platform and it would be hard to point the finger at anyone when the public are restless due to having to wait for their trains which are invariably late.
Thomas Burgess dressed in his best black suit with a mauve shirt and black tie made his usual way to Charing Cross station. The hearse and other vehicles in the procession were leaving from there. Burgess was in the third car and Roger Grey spotted him.
Roger’s improvisation worked perfectly as a spur of the moment genius at the killing game. It was so ideal and Roger was impressed with Burgess’ sartorial outfit – so good of him to come dressed for the part.
* * *
Guy had decided on a spin in the countryside, taking his new partner and love of his life on a picnic. Sandra wasn’t too keen at first because of the baby she was carrying and at the last check-up, the doctor had said it would be a good idea for her to take it easy. They had problems at home because that day the Water Board had dug up the road because of a leak which had the appearance of a very large fountain and after several phone calls the workmen had arrived and had gone through an electric cable and Guy and Sandra’s house was one of the houses that had no water and now no electricity.
Guy packed the hamper with food that didn’t need cooking – already prepared Ham, chicken and Corned Beef, assorted salad ingredients – two flasks of drink, one coffee and one tea provided by a kind neighbour who wasn’t one of the houses with problems. It was such a lovely day and Guy decided to have the hood of the car down. It was a short drive and Guy was careful not to go over bumps and holes that appeared in the roads through winter’s damage.
The picnic was a great success, away from the stresses at home. They ate and drank and Sandra wanted Guy to make love to her. Guy looked round the field with concern.
‘Do you think so, someone might be watching?’
‘They must have very good eyesight, darling – we are in the middle of a field.’
‘Oh come on Guy,’ said Sandra. ‘It will make it more exciting.’ When Sandra got going she was hot, but this was a new side to her. She was not usually permissive to this extent. She squealed with delight as Guy thrust inside her and she shuddered with ecstasy and wanted more.
* * *
Roger Grey was enjoying his afternoon and looking through his telescopic sight connected onto his rifle, he viewed the couple in the field having their wicked ways. He thought he recognised the backside of the fellow and thought if he raises his buttocks again I might have a pot-shot and sting his tail.
They had finished and Roger recognised Guy when he got up. He put on his underpants, followed by his trousers and she stood up with her bra in her hand. Guy stood in front of her.
* * *
Sandra was being quite naughty. She stood with her bra in her hand and her dress open. She demanded that Guy did it again in a standing position. His hands cupped her breasts firmly giving them a soft squeeze, she murmured quietly. He kissed her neck and lips passionately and wanted her in a lustful way. It was a shout from a bulky personage dressed in a dirty linen apron with Wellington Boots who was herding cows in the field that alerted them ‘What do you think your playing at – this field is private property!’ The woman held her dress tightly round her and the man slung all the bits in the middle of the table cloth and they both ran to the nearest fence and over it. Roger was impressed yet again, for he was sure that their feet never touched the grass when they sprinted across the field. The intrusion rather spoilt Roger’s ending for the two, as he had other ideas for them and especially Guy. Perhaps he would be able to fire at least one shot. Guy and Sandra ran to the car. Guy opened the boot and slung the picnic into it. Sandra sat in the back of the car frantically trying to dress herself. Her fingers were all over the place and she was shaking. Guy started up the engine and the car sped away. There were two bangs that followed a whistling noise. The first shattered the windscreen, the second grazed along Guy’s temple, for he had moved slightly to his left as he felt the glass shower all over him. Had he had not moved there would have been a red hole in the middle of his forehead. It had the same affect as Guy slammed on his brakes, hitting the side of the grassy bank and the car rolled back to the other side of the road into a ditch. He was slumped over the steering wheel and from a distance Roger thought he had done the job. The woman screamed and the farmer ran towards the car. Roger couldn’t get a clear shot of the woman as the farmer’s head tended to be in the way. He thought on reflection he could have shot the farmer, but he didn’t want it to be a National Incident. He could just imagine the headlines. “The shooting of three people in a quiet country beauty spot, the police have launched a nation wide search for the killer.” Roger didn’t want to overly advertise his whereabouts and when they knew that the victim was Guy Arnold, they might put two and two together and come up with the right answer, and he couldn’t afford that until the whole job was done. He would have to keep looking over his shoulder and he didn’t want that. It would be a funny situation if not embarrassing if he was captured by the two policemen Dodd and Lodge with whom he had acquainted himself at the pub last week. He would have to cut his losses and kill them both sooner than later, which would be a shame as he thought with two coppers in tow, he could be a step ahead of the police at every turn.