Is there justice in the gutter? All depends on who defines it. And how.
Justice by Jack Strange
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My trial comes up
next week and I could be facing a life sentence. My son’s dead worried about
it, but I’m not. I can’t wait to see that bastard Sykes in court testifying
against me, telling the world what I did to him. I can’t wait to see the look
on his face when it’s over and he realises what I’ve done.
I’m a retired
businessman. I shouldn’t have got drawn into committing a crime at my age, but
when my grandson died, I had no choice. He was only four years old.
The wife was in
bits, and as for my son, Alan, and my daughter-in-law, Beth, they’ll never get
over it.
Have you ever seen a
child’s coffin? They’re so tiny. It
breaks your heart, it really does.
It was how little Eddie
died that got to me as much as anything.
He was riding his
tricycle when a truck came up the road and took the corner too tight. The rear
wheel mounted the pavement and ran over my little Eddie. He banged his head when
he fell and never recovered.
People who saw the
accident said the driver – Harry Sykes - laughed when he realised what he’d
done.
He got prosecuted
for it, and said he was sorry, but it was just an act. He might’ve pulled the
wool over the judge’s eyes, but not mine. I knew he was saying it just to get
off – and it worked.
The prosecution
charged Sykes with causing death by careless driving. It should’ve been murder, if you ask me.
It was his first
offence, so he got a suspended sentence and walked out of court a free man.
What kind of justice
is that?
He ought to have been
banged up for years.
So I decided to do
something about it.
I had a word with
the wife. We agreed I should take the law into my own hands.
But I didn’t discuss
it with my son. He wouldn’t have understood. Alan is a very different person to
me. I’ve had to claw my way up from the gutter to get on in life, and he’s had
all the privileges you can get from day one.
When he was growing
up, I put an expensive roof over his head, made sure he had good food to eat,
and paid for him to have the best education going. He went to university and became a successful lawyer.
He doesn’t know anything about the
sacrifices I’ve had to make on his behalf. I gave up everything for my family,
including a few scruples along the way.
Once I’d decided to
do something about Eddie’s death, I went out and bought a gun. A .38 snub nose revolver,
a real Saturday night special.
Then I confronted Sykes
in the street. He was with his girlfriend. He was a right coward. He grabbed
her and used her as a shield.
I stuck my arm
straight out with the gun in it and walked up close to him.
“Be a man,” I said,
holding it against his temple.
But he cowered like
a frightened little girl, got to his knees, and begged for mercy.
“Please, I don’t
know why you’re doing this, let me live,” he said.
“It’s for my
grandson, Eddie. The little boy you killed.
Remember him?”
I crouched down, put
the muzzle to his thigh, and pulled the trigger.
There was a
deafening noise as the gun went off.
The bullet shattered
his thighbone.
When I pulled the
gun away there was a big hole in the side of his leg with wisps of smoke coming
out of it.
Very nasty.
His girlfriend
screamed and he screamed even louder.
“Serves you right
you cunt,” I told him.
I turned to his
girlfriend.
“Sorry about that,
love,” I said. “I didn’t mean to drag you into this, but I had no choice. If he
was half a man, he wouldn’t have used you as a shield, and you wouldn’t have
had to see this. You ought to finish with him. You’ve seen what he’s like. He’s
no good.”
I put the gun in my
waistband and walked away.
It wasn’t long
before the coppers came round to my gaff and arrested me.
They charged me with
causing Grievous Bodily Harm. The sentence for that is almost as bad as that
for murder. So in some ways, I might as well have killed Sykes. But I wanted
him to live, to feel the pain I felt.
I didn’t deny the
charge. How could I? I did it in broad daylight on the high street. Lots of
people saw me, and it was recorded on video.
It’s been hard on my
son, of course.
“Dad, how could
you?” he said. “Why did you take the law into your own hands? You should know
better than that. You used to be a respected businessman. I’ve lost Eddie, and
now I’m going to lose you. You’ll be locked up for this.”
“Sorry, son,” I
said. “Don’t worry. I’ll get a good brief. He’ll get me off.”
“You don’t know what
you’re talking about. It’s an open and shut case. You’ll get sent down for
years.”
“Suppose you’re
right,” I said.
But I knew he
wasn’t.
You see, my line of business
was extortion and racketeering. I was very good at it.
And by the time my
mates get through with the jury, they’ll be awarding me a medal, never mind letting
me off.
