By Len Morgan
I had
hoped Elaine would soften and join me, after a few weeks, even for a few
days. But she adamantly refused to set foot inside the place,
and so my lonely monastic existence continued without remission.
I
plotted, planned, and schemed, increasing my stash; it’s harder than you'd
think even when your activities are not illegal. I was neither
producing forgeries nor passing off reproductions as being
originals. The duplicates are as authentic as the
originals. When I realised this I began buying and selling
things at auction. Then somewhere around my fortieth day, I
heard that a number of rare Victorian cash boxes had been discovered at a local
tip, and had been sold on through the local antiques market. I
reasoned it would only be a matter of time before they were traced back to me,
so I destroyed and disposed of the two remaining boxes. I
placed their contents in identical plastic
bags. Unfortunately, they were not identical enough; I wound
up with four stacks of money, £120,000. Ok? I admit it, I
started to panic; it was all getting out of hand. So I purchased an
incinerator and burned two stacks, you wouldn't believe how long it takes to
burn sixty thousand quid! Duplicates are bad enough,
quadruplicates plus those I had already put into circulation, cash had become
far too rich for me. So, I went back to antiques, a game I’m
familiar with.
Several
weeks later, a delivery van arrived at the front gates with the rest of my
personal belongings. Not only was Elaine's job too important
for her to miss, she'd invited Jerry, a friend from her health club to move in
with her. It was then self-evident that I had neglected
her. So, on Saturday I drove home to surprise
her. Elaine had neglected to tell me that Jerry was a 6ft
6" muscle-bound ape suffering from acute testosterone
poisoning. She was apologetic; she explained that she had
needs…
Another
week passed and I reached my lowest ebb, I visited the Slater's Arms, where I’d
become a regular, for my usual two to three pints in convivial company.
Laura
and her friends were out on a hen night. She was a student at
the local polytechnic; her course was applied aromatherapy, physiology and
massage. We started chatting, one thing led to another, so I
invited her back for coffee and some hands-on experience… She
came around six or seven times in the next two weeks, that was when I noticed the
stash of cash I kept in the top drawer of my dresser was
dwindling. I asked her outright if she’d been helping herself,
she didn't deny it.
“But,
if you need money, all you have to do is ask,” I said.
"What
do you think I am a prostitute?” she yelled, slamming the door behind her as
she left.
It
was two more lonely weeks before I met Dawn. She was the
proprietor of a select local antique shop. I purchased a few
incomplete and damaged sets of china from her. I placed the
good pieces in the box and smashed the damaged pieces, hey presto I had
complete and matching sets. This effectively doubled their
value overnight. I explained I had contacts in the trade who
were happy to acquire pieces for me or purchase the incomplete sets from
me. Within the week she was supplying me with some quite rare
singles, and one-offs. By then, we both knew we had something
special going between us but, with women, you’re never really sure if 'the
something' is the same for her as it is for you. She
wanted me to go home with her, so I had to explain the stipulations of Perry's
will. She then offered to come home with me
instead. She got up for a drink in the night and found all my
priceless china.
"Why
do you keep it in there," she asked, curiosity piqued.
"Who
would think to look for valuables there?" I asked. A week
later somebody broke-in during the day. When I returned home
the cupboard was bare. It was then I noticed the shelves were
later additions, so if I removed them I could get larger pieces
inside. Such as Tables chairs and motorbikes. Dear
grandpa had some very interesting furniture and it wasn't
cheap. As a precaution I had all the locks changed and
installed a sophisticated alarm system, at the suggestion of the local crime
prevention officer. I found several of my stolen pieces at
Dawn’s shop, when I confronted her she asked me to leave. That
was when I decided I could make it on my own.
Ten
days to go, and I was coasting, then Laura arrived at my front door in the
early hours. I told her to go away and leave me alone.
"I
need your help Clive, It's a matter of life and death!" She sounded
distressed so I opened the door. Laura stumbled in, stoned out
of her skull, closely followed by a heavy set 'man-cum-mountain', reminiscent
of Jerry.
"Hi
babe," she said in a false theatrical voice. I just
looked at her.
"I
owe this guy, and I need a loan?"
"Whose
he?"
"The
names Percival Fitzroy Hammond, Fitz to my friends, you can call me Mr Hammond."
"How
much," I asked. I had already decided to pay him off.
She
gave a silly laugh and hesitated, immediately I knew it would be a lot.
"Five
K?" she said quickly in a whisper.
"Five
thousand?" I said incredulously. "I don't keep that
sort of money in the house, not since you were here last," I
said.
"What
about your fridge?" she asked. Her face puckered and
tears slid down her cheeks, filling her slightly parted
lips. "He's going to kill me Clive," she whispered,
looking so vulnerable. "You’re my last hope. Please?”
she begged, trembling like a fawn.
"I
was burgled, it's empty," I said.
"I
ain't got time fer dis shit! Are you gwina cough
up? Where’s dis box yoo talknabout?" He yelled
producing a telescopic police baton.
"Sit
Down! Chill,” I said with a confidence I didn’t
feel. I emptied my pockets how much do you have," I asked.
"Whas
dis," he began.
"You’re
in my home, am I likely to run off with the contents of your
wallet? Where would I go," I asked.
He
removed a fat wallet from his inside breast pocket and laid two-fifty on the
table,
"Is
this a scam?"He eyed me suspiciously, taking a packet of white powder from
his jacket and placing it beside the money, on my 'fifties' glass coffee table.
"What's
that," I asked.
"Snow,"
he said.
"What’s
it worth?" I asked.
"Wholesale,
a thousand."
I
picked it up together with the cash, "Coffee or tea?" I asked moving
into the kitchen.
"Whiskey!"
he answered, "I never allow non-alcoholic beverages to pass my lips."
I
returned ten minutes later with five packets of powder, £1,750 in cash, a
bottle of Glenfidich, and three glasses.
"This
is the best I can do on the fly," I said.
He
eyed the powder suspiciously and tested it, "How'd ya do dat," he
asked.
I
tapped my nose conspiratorially.
"I
aksed yo a question!" he snarled.
"I
aksed you first," I said, glaring right back at him, with a mean attitude
to match.
"It’ll
do," he said deliberately, "But, we ain't finish, by a long
stretch." He stood up and they left.
"Thank
you sweetheart, I'm forever in your debt," she said kissing me clumsily.
"Just
don't come back," I replied, "I don't need this
aggravation." Even as I uttered the words, I knew the
flood gates were about to open, just a matter of time I thought.
"He
loves me really," I heard Laura tell Fitz, as I reached for the phone.
.-…-.
Next
morning Hammond's face stared
back at me from the front page of my newspaper, large as life.
He was dubbed ‘Public Enemy No. 1'. He had been
apprehended the night before carrying two pounds of pure Heroin with a street
value of half a million pounds.
To be continued/...
Copyright Lern Morgan
Others then heard of his goal,