Posted: 22 September 2004
Word Count: 803
Mike Reynolds stood up from behind his desk. D-day was just a week away and he could and would trade his life to nab Jack Flex Jones. The most popular crime lord in the whole of the U.S. He had put finishing touches to evidence he had dug up against the kingpin. He retrieved his coat from its hanger. He carried his briefcase and went out of the office.
‘Holly I’m off. See ya tomorrow.’ He threw his office key to her and went out. ‘O.k.’ she replied.
‘Mr. Mike, have a nice time for the rest of the day’, Jack called out to him as he swung his car out of the Park.
‘Alright, I’ll. See ya tomorrow.’ He swung out into the road and with a rev of the engine sped off.
Hollis was in a hurry to finish her day’s work. She had a date with James Tominson. She had met him some few weeks back. She had developed a liking for him instantly.
She started clearing her desk. She placed some papers in a file labeled Jack ‘Flex’ Jones. She swung round towards the door with a start. There was someone walking down the corridor. She was the only one left in the office after Mike left awhile ago.
‘Maybe he forgot something’, she observed. ‘Mike, is that you?’ she half shouted.
No answer. No reply. A sudden feeling came over her. Sweat droplets had somehow found an escape from behind her hairline because there were now numerous streamlets coursing their way down her face. ‘Get hold of yourself, Hollis Ravenport’, she scolded herself.
The footsteps were nearer because the sound from them were louder and coming at a quicker pace. Her palms and body became moist and clammy.
‘Mike? Jack? Is that you?’
‘Who is there? No reply.
The door knob turned slowly and ……
‘What are you doing here and why didn’t you reply me when I called out?’ She asked the man before her. There was no reply and it wasn’t forthcoming either.
‘I thought you were on Sick leave……….’
The man’s gloved hand shot forward and held her throat in a vice-like grip cutting off all form of sound except for some repressed sound deep within her throat which couldn’t pass through her voice box. The grip tightened and Hollis started scratching and clawing at her assailant’s hand. It was to no avail. The hand was encased in a leather glove- elbow length.
He pushed her to the floor and then she screamed. His hand shot out again to effectively cut off another such sound. He quickly stuffed a dirty napkin he had picked off the sidewalk into her mouth.
Downstairs, Jack awoke with a start. He must have dozed off after his regular can of beer. He thought he had heard something. A scream. ‘Was it?’ he asked himself. ‘It couldn’t be’, he tried to shrug it off. Definitely the sound was not from the building maybe from the nearby neighborhood. He brushed aside any other of the negative thoughts running through him. It must be a figment of his imagination. His imagination was running wild. He concluded that he must have been dreaming.
Upstairs, the man brought out an object-It looked like an Ice pick-and then his hand started upward and downward movements. A deep red stain of blood diffused through the thick fabric of her white shirt originating from the left side of her chest a little beneath the breast on that side. He checked her jugular vein for pulse. There was none. She had taken her last breath. She was dead. He was about going out of the office when he doubled back to the corpse. He lifted it off from the carpet and crossed the short distance to the inner office. He twisted the key in the lock. The door was opened and then he dropped the corpse on the carpeted floor and moved it around a little then he dragged it out to the outer office. He locked the inner office door and replaced the key to the corpse’s former desk from where he had earlier taken it.
He went out of the office and walked swiftly down the corridor to the Fire exit. He took the stairs 3 at a time. He reached the landing and ran out of the door into the alley. He walked for a short distance and then he emerged on a side street. His car was parked there. He removed the gloves and disposed of them in a garbage can, got into his car and drove off.
Darkness descended on the city. Darkness unanimous with nighttime was a cover for a most needless and ruthless murder. Darkness had bought the perpetrator time to get away with the deed of wickedness.
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