The little black book

Tim stirred. Everything was black and he could not move his hands or legs. He tried to shout for help but what noise that came out was muffled. He realised his mouth was covered with some fabric that tasted of old fast food. Everything around him smelt of petrol and metal.

He tried to move his hands but they were bound tight. His fingers stroked the bindings and guessed that they were held to the chair by zip locks. The plastic was slightly cutting his skin every time he moved. His feet were apart but he couldn’t move them, so he assumed they were also zip locked to the chair.

He wondered how did he get here.

Footsteps were heard behind him, soft at first but they got louder the nearer the person got.

The bag was removed from Tim’s head. The light blinded him momentarily. All he could see was white, then the footsteps had a large shape to them.

The man circled Tim like a shark circles its prey.

He tried to talk but only muffled sounds came.

His vision was finally getting used to the light. He watched the circling man as he passed.

The man was huge, as big as a horse. He was wearing a black suit and white shirt. The only colour to him was his red tie that had a small ginger cat on the middle of it. The man was completely bald and had a round smiling face. His teeth were pointed and yellow, giving him more of that shark look.

Tim didn’t like that smile. It gave the man a look of being hungry for something that Tim didn’t want to feed him.

A creak of a door was heard as it opened in front of him.

The circling man stopped in his tracks and looked up, his smile was replaced with a look of calm.

Two people walked into the room. One was a middle aged man, dark hair, freshly shaven. He was wearing a similar suit, only difference being that his tie was blue with no animals on it.

He was accompanied by a boy. The boy had thick blonde hair, he wore blue denim jeans and had on a striped jumper mixed of blue, brown and red colours going across.

“That is all Victor”, the middle aged man ordered. The circling man stepped back out of Tim’s view.

The boy was staring at Tim with frightened eyes. While the suited man paid him no attention.

“Why are we here uncle Jack”, the boy asked with a hint of fear in his voice.

“We are here David because I would like you to do something for me”.

The boys eyes never left Tim.

“But first I want to give you a present”.

David looked up at his uncle as Jack reached into his back pocket. He pulled out a thick brown envelope. It resembled a brick. Jack handed it to David.

“What is it”?

“That my dear boy is twenty grand in cash. I want you to have it”.

The boys eyes lit up and his mouth fell wide open.

“Thank you uncle Jack. But why”?

“Can’t an uncle bestow money upon his favourite nephew”?

He tussled the boys hair.

“Thank you”, David said again and hugged him.

“You are welcome. But there is still one small thing I would like you to do”.

David looked up questioningly.

“What’s that”?

“Well you see that man there”, he motioned towards Tim.

“Yeah”, David looked at Tim.

“Well”, Jack reached into his jacket pocket and produced a small black gun.

“I want you to shoot that man with this gun”.

David’s eyes grew wide, and for the second time in a minute his mouth fell wide open. He was shocked by the request and scared of the gun.

“What? Why me”?

“You heard me, and because if you do then you will get a reward”, he clicked his fingers and Victor came back into view beside Tim. He was holding an open briefcase full of money.

“That my dear boy is two million in cash. All of that could be yours if you just take this gun and shoot that man”.

Tim became very fearful for his life and began wriggling in his chair.

David’s attention left the money to watch Tim.

“Of course you don’t have to shoot him”.

“I don’t”?

Tim and David both relaxed a little.

“No of course not my dear boy”, Jack placed the gun back into his jacket.

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do”, he clicked his fingers and Victor shut the briefcase.

David watched the money leave. Two million was a lot of money to say no to. He then looked to Tim, still bound to the chair. He knew he had made the right decision. Indeed he could do a lot with two million, but it wasn’t enough to take a mans life.

“What will happen to that man”?

“Oh him”, Jack acted like he had forgotten Tim was in the room.

“We will most likely set him free back onto the streets”.

“That’s good”, David smiled to Tim.

“Ok, are you ready to go”, Jack asked cheerily.

“Yes”, they turned to leave.

Tim relaxed more and more with every step they took. His bindings on his wrists had cut into him from all the tension of the last few moments. He wasn’t sure if he would really be set free, but he was relieved it wasn’t the boy who would have to live with his death.

“Oh hang on a second”, Jack and David stopped near to the door.

“I forgot to give you this”, he reached over to a nearby table and picked up a little black book. He handed it to David.

“What is it”?

“That dear David is a book full of all the people that man has ever killed”.

Tim tensed up again.

“I want you to have it as a souvenir of this moment. Something to look back onto and remember your decision”.

Tim took the book reluctantly.

“You see that man isn’t as innocent as he looks. He has killed many people. Men, women, even children. All of the details are inside that book”.

David looked from the book to Tim and back again.

“If you don’t believe me dear boy then we can ask the man himself”.

Jack clicked his fingers again and Tim’s gag was removed.

Tim spat out the taste of old fast food.

“Please don’t listen to him, I haven’t done anything wrong”.

“Well we know that isn’t true don’t we”, Jack moved back into the room. His hand against David’s back to guide him along too.

“Please, I may have done some bad things but I have tried to make up for my mistakes”, tears were beginning to trickle down his cheeks.

“Mistakes? Would you call killing entire families a mistake”?

“No, please, I’m sorry, that was the wrong word-”

“Too right it was the wrong word. This man has killed over twenty innocent people”.

“I didn’t mean to-”

“You didn’t mean to kill these people? So it was just all a MISTAKE”, the last word Jack roared.

Tim fell silent and sobbed.

“I think we have heard enough”, he clicked his fingers and Tim’s gag was replaced.

Tim’s head fell forward as he continued to sob.

David was staring quietly. He was horrified. Just moments before this man had looked helpless and innocent. But now all David saw was a monster. This sobbing disgusting man had killed innocent people, and David was just going to let him go?

“So David, let me ask you. Are you going to throw away two million in cash for this scumbag murderer”?

David stared at the sobbing man in the chair. He looked so pathetic, but he was a pathetic man who had murdered so many.

Jack pulled out the gun from his jacket and handed it to him.

It felt so cold and heavy in his hands. A cold weapon to do such terrible deeds.

“Is he worth the money”, Jack asked.

Tim looked up to face David. He had tears streaking down his face. He was finding it hard to see but he found David’s eyes. If this child was going to kill him then he would stare into his eyes so he knew who he was killing.

David raised the gun. His hands were shaking as he pointed and aimed. His finger on the trigger he was unsure if this was the right choice.

“Do it David. Do it for all those poor families”, Jack whispered.

David thought of the families. Imagining them all frightened. Children crying, women pleading, the men on their knees begging for their families souls. Then he imagined this man standing above them as he mercilessly took each life.

A feeling of overwhelming anger rose up in David and he pulled the trigger.

The bullet struck true. A small hole between Tim’s eyes.

His eyes opened wide in shock and then the light died within them. His head lolled backwards. He was dead.

David dropped the gun and stepped back in shock.

“Well done my dear boy”, Jack applauded and stepped forward to pick up the gun.

“Nice shot indeed”, he wiped the gun down with his handkerchief and placed it back into his jacket.

“Well I am a man of my word. Victor”, he shouted this last bit.

Victor came forward with the briefcase and handed it to David.

David took it without thinking. Victor was blocking his line of sight but he could still see the mans cold eyes.

“Anyway David you best be off home to your mum. She must be wondering where you are. And don’t worry about the body. We will take care of it”.

David thought about the word body. Such a casual word but surrounded by such a darkness of what had just happened to make it only a body. He was thinking this as Victor ushered him out of the building.

Once outside his legs felt weak and he felt like he was going to throw up. He took a moment to brief deeply. In-out-in-out.

He looked down at the briefcase and decided to open it. Inside was the two million and the little black book that he had forgotten he had dropped.

He took out the book and shut the case.

On the very first page was a dark skinned man. This must have been the first victim.

David began to walk home while skimming through the book.

Each page had a different face and name of all his victims. With each knew face David saw he felt sad for them, but also a sense of justice that he had been the one to avenge them.

Twenty eight victims in total. All families and neighbours.

He was almost home when he came across a picture of the killer.

The mans name had been Tim Evans.

David stared at his face hatefully.

The next page told of Tim’s time in the air forces. David read that during a mission he had been ordered to drop a bomb onto a terrorist base. Tim had done as he was told, believing he was doing his job.

Later that day he had been told that the information the air force had been given was false and that no terrorists had ever been there. Tim had bombed innocent civilians.

That was thirty years ago. Since then Tim had left the air force and had done everything he could to right his wrong. He had volunteered all over the world, saved hundreds in war torn countries. He never accepted any money. All money he had made had gone to charities. To many he was a true hero.

David shut the book. He had killed a good man. He realised then that no amount of money was worth a life.