filthy scum criminals had called the police to complain that Jack had assaulted their darling little boy, the angelic Derek.
Oh come on, of course you can believe it. The filth don’t want to know about an elderly couple being terrorised by the violent, criminal Rogers family. But get the chance to arrest and terrorise that elderly couple themselves and they’re out mob-handed , quicker than you can spit. A quick and easy arrest of an unresisting old man and it helps their clear-up rate. They have crime clear-up targets to meet and an arrest and conviction of Uncle Jack will count for just as much as solving a child-murder or a rape. Oh yeah, they’re brave and trustworthy alright, the filth. I’ve known stuff like this all my life, but for people like Uncle Jack and Aunty Margaret, and even people like my mum and dad, it all comes as a shock. They still live in a past wherethe police could be relied upon to see that order was maintained on the streets. And worked to uphold the law in favour of the gentle and the good against the violent and the criminal and the selfish.
I find out that Uncle Jack has been kept in the police station overnight and that Aunty Margaret is out of her mind with worry. I try to comfort her as best I can. In the end, I agree to go down to the police station with her. I don’t know what we’ll be able to do there, but it’s the only thing Aunty Margaret wants. And I’m not about to let her go there alone.
CHAPTER 9
Gun dog dreaming
It’s gone midnight. I’m out on the streets of our estate and there’s no one about. I’m wearing dark jeans and a black cotton zip-up jacket and trainers. It’s a dark night – lots of cloud and no moon. My hands are thrust deep into the pockets of my jacket. In the palm of my right hand I can feel the cool shape of the Ruger P95 that I carry with me. My fingers are curled gently around the black handgrip; my index finger lies along the trigger guard. I don’t want any accidents; not like that stupid firearms cop who shot himself in the leg getting into his car. Christ, you couldn’t make it up, could you? If it had been in a movie, you’d have fallen about laughing. Sometimes Ifeel that criminals with guns are less of a danger to the public than police with guns. The police, after all, have been known to shoot an innocent man in the head seven times at point blank range. Whatever the circumstances, that sounds more like frenzy than a controlled use of firearms. Make your own mind up on that one.
So I’m careful how I carry the Ruger and keep my fingers well away from the trigger. The Ruger does not have a manual safety catch. It fires with a double action of the trigger – first pressure cocks the weapon, second pressure fires it. After that, you just have to keep squeezing the trigger until the magazine is empty. Of course, there is a decocking lever that can be used to make it safe if you cock it and then decide not to shoot, or if you’ve finished shooting and there are still rounds in the magazine.
Anyway, I’m outside the Rogers’ house. No point in wasting time, I walk straight into the yard and down the overgrown path to the front door. The Ruger is in my right hand now and my index finger is putting alight pressure on the trigger. I bang on the door with my left hand. I’m banging hard and long like I mean business. From inside the house there is swearing and shouting and I hear thumping footsteps clumping down the stairs. I step back as the door is thrown open and it is the hideously slobbish father of the clan. I don’t give him time to swear at me as I raise the Ruger right in front of his face and squeeze the trigger twice. Two red holes appear in his face, one in the centre of his forehead and one in his cheek and he drops to…
‘Stevie? Stevie!’
I’ve been daydreaming and Aunty Margaret is tugging at my sleeve to get my attention. We’re sitting in the waiting area in the police station. We’ve been here for three
Oh come on, of course you can believe it. The filth don’t want to know about an elderly couple being terrorised by the violent, criminal Rogers family. But get the chance to arrest and terrorise that elderly couple themselves and they’re out mob-handed , quicker than you can spit. A quick and easy arrest of an unresisting old man and it helps their clear-up rate. They have crime clear-up targets to meet and an arrest and conviction of Uncle Jack will count for just as much as solving a child-murder or a rape. Oh yeah, they’re brave and trustworthy alright, the filth. I’ve known stuff like this all my life, but for people like Uncle Jack and Aunty Margaret, and even people like my mum and dad, it all comes as a shock. They still live in a past wherethe police could be relied upon to see that order was maintained on the streets. And worked to uphold the law in favour of the gentle and the good against the violent and the criminal and the selfish.
I find out that Uncle Jack has been kept in the police station overnight and that Aunty Margaret is out of her mind with worry. I try to comfort her as best I can. In the end, I agree to go down to the police station with her. I don’t know what we’ll be able to do there, but it’s the only thing Aunty Margaret wants. And I’m not about to let her go there alone.
CHAPTER 9
Gun dog dreaming
It’s gone midnight. I’m out on the streets of our estate and there’s no one about. I’m wearing dark jeans and a black cotton zip-up jacket and trainers. It’s a dark night – lots of cloud and no moon. My hands are thrust deep into the pockets of my jacket. In the palm of my right hand I can feel the cool shape of the Ruger P95 that I carry with me. My fingers are curled gently around the black handgrip; my index finger lies along the trigger guard. I don’t want any accidents; not like that stupid firearms cop who shot himself in the leg getting into his car. Christ, you couldn’t make it up, could you? If it had been in a movie, you’d have fallen about laughing. Sometimes Ifeel that criminals with guns are less of a danger to the public than police with guns. The police, after all, have been known to shoot an innocent man in the head seven times at point blank range. Whatever the circumstances, that sounds more like frenzy than a controlled use of firearms. Make your own mind up on that one.
So I’m careful how I carry the Ruger and keep my fingers well away from the trigger. The Ruger does not have a manual safety catch. It fires with a double action of the trigger – first pressure cocks the weapon, second pressure fires it. After that, you just have to keep squeezing the trigger until the magazine is empty. Of course, there is a decocking lever that can be used to make it safe if you cock it and then decide not to shoot, or if you’ve finished shooting and there are still rounds in the magazine.
Anyway, I’m outside the Rogers’ house. No point in wasting time, I walk straight into the yard and down the overgrown path to the front door. The Ruger is in my right hand now and my index finger is putting alight pressure on the trigger. I bang on the door with my left hand. I’m banging hard and long like I mean business. From inside the house there is swearing and shouting and I hear thumping footsteps clumping down the stairs. I step back as the door is thrown open and it is the hideously slobbish father of the clan. I don’t give him time to swear at me as I raise the Ruger right in front of his face and squeeze the trigger twice. Two red holes appear in his face, one in the centre of his forehead and one in his cheek and he drops to…
‘Stevie? Stevie!’
I’ve been daydreaming and Aunty Margaret is tugging at my sleeve to get my attention. We’re sitting in the waiting area in the police station. We’ve been here for three
Similar Books
