Mary Pattison
The Man on The Hill
He was good. He knew he was good. He tipped his fedora to the back of his head using his right index finger. A finger covered in the minute particles of cordite which lingered after his job had been accomplished. It had to be his index finger, because it was the only finger along with his misshapen thumb that they’d left him. It had been a revenge attack and all because of Beulah. Beulah, a girl who lived life in a colourful array of slinky satin negligees and dry martinis. Unfortunately she was big Al’s girl and big Al didn’t take kindly to the hired help making eyes at his personal property.
But that was years ago, all in the past and it taught “fingers” never to mix business and pleasure.
When he arrived at the Blue Monkey club it was bathed in the garish glow of neon lighting. The girls were waiting outside the club. But not one of them could touch his girlfriend Stella for looks or intelligence. She was in a class of her own but these girls were ready and waiting to escort any male who arrived without a suitably young woman on his arm. Fingers moved towards Charlie’s office with the unhurried gait of a man sure of his own strength and superiority. No one challenged him, maybe it was the look in his eye or maybe it was the bulge in the right hand pocket of his belted raincoat. He didn’t bother to knock at the office door. All he wanted was the rest of his fee. In this job it was fifty per cent down and fifty per cent on completion.
Sally Goodman was bored. She stared out of her office window. She hated the monotony of her nine till five job, all she really wanted to do was travel. Sally had daydreams of spending the coming winter in Spain instead of dreary old England. Her attention was taken by an old man traversing the steep hill in front of her. His long dark overcoat and trilby hat were incongruous on a hot summer’s day. He was carrying a large heavy camera and he had a camera bag slung across his shoulder. Every so often he paused and appeared to take a photograph, it seemed strange to Sally the way he held the camera away from his body at waist height. Then she caught her breath as the old man staggered and fell to the ground. She waited for him to make an attempt to get up but nothing happened.
“Call an ambulance” She called to a colleague indicating the man on the hill as she raced to the ground floor of the building. When she reached him she couldn’t believe it. The man appeared to be sleeping soundly. His breathing was normal she could see nothing to suggest he had been injured. His strange looking camera had landed in the undergrowth as he fell so Stella made sure she gave it to the ambulance people with what little information she had about the stranger’s movements.
It was the tail end of the summer and Sally could still see no possibility of financing a winter holiday Spain. Her manager’s voice broke into her wandering thoughts.
“Miss Goodman I’d like to see you in my office”. he beckoned her in a rather agitated manner. It was not every day that the manager had a visit from the police along with an agent from the American FBI.
Afterer he introductions were made , the British officer sketched in some details of the man on the hill, with an occasional nod of affirmation from the American. Then the FBI man began to speak.
“We knew he was a somnambulist but it was never a problem until quite recently When he was recruited some years ago he was one of the best but over the past couple of years he got his wires crossed. He was a freelance when he first appeared on our radar. Ruthlessly dedicated to the efficient art of killing. Just what we needed at that time.” He looked at Sally, his thin lips contorted into an icy cold grimace and she made a mental note never to be alone with this man. But it was already to late. His hooded eyes reminded her of a rattle snake about to strike its prey.
“But to get to the point of this meeting Miss Goodman , I believe you were the first person to reach him and that you had time alone with him before the ambulance arrived ? We believe he left something with you and you have inadvertently forgotten to hand it in.”
His eyes never left her face and Sally knew for certain she would never leave the room alive. Thank heavens she had already passed on the coded information to central office.
The girls in the outer office were surprised to hear the strident whine of a siren which preceded the arrival of an ambulance with more than the usual number of attendants. A stretcher appeared and Sally left the office.
“ Permanently.”
The Man on The Hill
He was good. He knew he was good. He tipped his fedora to the back of his head using his right index finger. A finger covered in the minute particles of cordite which lingered after his job had been accomplished. It had to be his index finger, because it was the only finger along with his misshapen thumb that they’d left him. It had been a revenge attack and all because of Beulah. Beulah, a girl who lived life in a colourful array of slinky satin negligees and dry martinis. Unfortunately she was big Al’s girl and big Al didn’t take kindly to the hired help making eyes at his personal property.
But that was years ago, all in the past and it taught “fingers” never to mix business and pleasure.
When he arrived at the Blue Monkey club it was bathed in the garish glow of neon lighting. The girls were waiting outside the club. But not one of them could touch his girlfriend Stella for looks or intelligence. She was in a class of her own but these girls were ready and waiting to escort any male who arrived without a suitably young woman on his arm. Fingers moved towards Charlie’s office with the unhurried gait of a man sure of his own strength and superiority. No one challenged him, maybe it was the look in his eye or maybe it was the bulge in the right hand pocket of his belted raincoat. He didn’t bother to knock at the office door. All he wanted was the rest of his fee. In this job it was fifty per cent down and fifty per cent on completion.
Sally Goodman was bored. She stared out of her office window. She hated the monotony of her nine till five job, all she really wanted to do was travel. Sally had daydreams of spending the coming winter in Spain instead of dreary old England. Her attention was taken by an old man traversing the steep hill in front of her. His long dark overcoat and trilby hat were incongruous on a hot summer’s day. He was carrying a large heavy camera and he had a camera bag slung across his shoulder. Every so often he paused and appeared to take a photograph, it seemed strange to Sally the way he held the camera away from his body at waist height. Then she caught her breath as the old man staggered and fell to the ground. She waited for him to make an attempt to get up but nothing happened.
“Call an ambulance” She called to a colleague indicating the man on the hill as she raced to the ground floor of the building. When she reached him she couldn’t believe it. The man appeared to be sleeping soundly. His breathing was normal she could see nothing to suggest he had been injured. His strange looking camera had landed in the undergrowth as he fell so Stella made sure she gave it to the ambulance people with what little information she had about the stranger’s movements.
It was the tail end of the summer and Sally could still see no possibility of financing a winter holiday Spain. Her manager’s voice broke into her wandering thoughts.
“Miss Goodman I’d like to see you in my office”. he beckoned her in a rather agitated manner. It was not every day that the manager had a visit from the police along with an agent from the American FBI.
Afterer he introductions were made , the British officer sketched in some details of the man on the hill, with an occasional nod of affirmation from the American. Then the FBI man began to speak.
“We knew he was a somnambulist but it was never a problem until quite recently When he was recruited some years ago he was one of the best but over the past couple of years he got his wires crossed. He was a freelance when he first appeared on our radar. Ruthlessly dedicated to the efficient art of killing. Just what we needed at that time.” He looked at Sally, his thin lips contorted into an icy cold grimace and she made a mental note never to be alone with this man. But it was already to late. His hooded eyes reminded her of a rattle snake about to strike its prey.
“But to get to the point of this meeting Miss Goodman , I believe you were the first person to reach him and that you had time alone with him before the ambulance arrived ? We believe he left something with you and you have inadvertently forgotten to hand it in.”
His eyes never left her face and Sally knew for certain she would never leave the room alive. Thank heavens she had already passed on the coded information to central office.
The girls in the outer office were surprised to hear the strident whine of a siren which preceded the arrival of an ambulance with more than the usual number of attendants. A stretcher appeared and Sally left the office.
“ Permanently.”