A Step Too Far Essay, Research Paper
?How much?? he said as he swung round in
his oversized leather chair. ?Like I said, unless you want?? ?Alright, you win, fifty thousand it is
then.? He was getting too old for this sort of thing. A happy man in his
mid-forties Clive Richardson was the owner of Richardson Autos, a business set
up about fifty years ago by his father. Now, the future did not seem so bright,
but this had gone far enough. ?I am glad to see your common sense has
prevailed.? The reply came from a young man, with jet-black hair and a slightly
tanned complexion. ?I will wait for the money in the post, delivery in three
days.? ?Indeed? confirmed Clive and the young
man left. ????????? ?Melissa,
can you send Charles and Rupert in please?? ?Certainly Mr. Richardson, right away Sir.?
Clive employed Charles and Rupert under the job description ?handymen? but really they did anything that needed to be done.
?Okay listen up, I?ve got a problem. Follow the man who just left and deal with
him in any way with which you feel appropriate, I just don?t want to see him
here again. We will sort out your wages when the job is completed.? ?Sure thing,? and with that, the two
handymen left the car showroom in pursuit of the red BMW that had just pulled
away. They turned out of the showroom to see the BMW two cars in front of them;
the road was too narrow to try risk overtaking anyone so they drove onwards.
Suddenly the BMW took a sharp turn to the left and before they knew it the
handymen had missed the turning, and lost their target. ????????? ?Clive,
this is Charles. We?ve lost him.? ?This is his address, Twenty-four Birch
Tree Drive, go there and don?t mess up this time.? ?Okay.? ????????? It
was a humble abode, with a well-kept garden and bright red front door. It did
not look like much from the outside, which was what the young man, Tony James,
wanted people to think. As they pulled up outside, Charles and Rupert thought
they had the wrong address, but sure enough, this was it. They went round the
side, then, checking that nobody was watching them, climbed over the back gate. ?It was very different from the inside; the
spotless kitchen gleamed and shone, it was quite a contrast to the outside.
They searched the house; there was no sign of any living thing, apart from the
gerbil in the living room. They were about to leave, when a sudden thought
struck Charles. ?Tell you what,? he said?
?Why don?t we smash that light bulb and leave the gas on?? ?Why?? Rupert asked, puzzled. He would
not have won a prize for the most intelligent man in the world. ?Because then when he gets back and turns
on the light, he won’t be able to see an awful lot, will he?? ?Cool man, lets do it.? As they left
there was a smug air about them, like a pupil who has just handed in a piece of
work that he knows will achieve ten out of ten. ????????? At
that same time the Tony James was browsing the shelves of holiday magazines in
Thomas Cook, wondering in which country he would empty his bank account, he
finally decided on America, California, and left the travel agents. He hopped
into his BMW and headed off towards his house, unaware of the peril that lay in
store for him. He pulled up
outside his house and stepped out of the car, not noticing the two suspicious
looking men sitting in the Ford Transit van parked across the street. As he
turned the key on the lock a strange smell wafted up his nostrils. Wondering
what it was he followed it towards the kitchen. All at once he noticed the
shards of glass on the floor. It being too gloomy to see where they had come
from he flicked the switch on impulse. It was the last mistake he made. ????????? Charles
and Rupert waited for what seemed like an age, and suddenly as if in slow
motion a great fireball ripped through the house in a blinding flash of white
light. For a moment their eyes were dazzled, and then they saw the damage that
they had caused. If someone could have been inside the house, untouched by the
flames they would have been amazed at how fast the fire consumed everything and
anything in its path. It was like a starved tiger, feasting on its prey after
not having eaten for days. The flames licked at the base of an art-deco sofa
and then slithered over its surface like a python, the sofa in its unbreakable
grasp. The python now had ultimate control over the lower part of the house,
and began to curl round the banisters and up the carpeted stairs slowly but
unstoppably causing ultimate destruction. ?In the distance the wail of fire engines
could be heard. Ten minutes later the fire was under control and nearly
extinguished, but Tony James was no more, and the police investigation had
already been halted, the fire had been blamed on an accidental gas leak. The
killers had been successful in their job and were going to collect their pay.
But what Clive did not know was that the secret of his illicit affairs in
stolen cars had not been taken to the grave by Tony James. He had made more
prints of the photos and left them in a high security safe, bequeathed to one
person who knew exactly what to do if the worst happened.B. Jones 03/11/99