Shooting in the Dark

around his desk but the telephone rang and he picked it up without thinking. ‘Sly Beaumont.’
    ‘I’m off,’ Sam said. ‘Thanks for the info.’
    Sly covered the mouthpiece with his hand. ‘It’s a pleasure, Sam. Any time.’
    ‘See you.’ Sam left the office, walked down the stairs and out into the street. He turned back towards the town and hadn’t gone more than a hundred metres when he heard Sly Beaumont calling after him.
    He waited for the old reporter to catch up with him. ‘Going my way, Sly?’
    ‘No.’ Beaumont was breathing hard. ‘I’m not going anywhere at all.’
     

55
     
    Scopophilia. The art of deriving sexual stimulation by watching. Voyeurism to you. Except that the voyeur is someone who watches without participation. I am an active player.
    There are two women in the house. The blind one and a young woman with a baby. At the front door there is a uniformed policeman. This is a complication. I don’t want complications. I want to finish it now. I shall have to be strong.
    The first thing I do is retrieve the roll of syringes and Suxamethonium from its hiding place by the swimming pool. I fit the microphone of my voice-activated recorder to the lapel of my jacket; the recorder itself goes in my shirt pocket. I notice the hard crust of ice which has covered the surface of the pool. I touch it with two fingers to test its strength and I see a vision of a saint floating in the dark water below.
    I put emotion and feelings to one side. For the task ahead I need to be cool and calm and collected.
    The next job is to cut the telephone connection, to isolate the occupants of the house. I move stealthily, like a cat.
    In the garden shed I find a piece of hacksaw blade and put it in my pocket. There is also a lump hammer, a crowbar, a long Phillips driver and several metres of old rope smelling of tar. I take these objects back to the shadow of the house. I carry the lawn-mower in my head.
    The telephone wire enters the house via a conduit along the outside wall. By following it I find a break where the engineer had to run the cable around a corner. I saw through it, making sure that the ends of the wires are not touching.
    I fill two of the syringes with enough Suxamethonium to pacify a bask of crocodiles. The moon is high and it has a face just like it did when I was a child. I review the plan in my mind, double-check to make sure I’ve reduced the element of chance to a minimum. My toes are numb with cold; my fingers stiff. I have been too busy to notice the cold.
    I climb the fence into the next-door garden. I walk down by the side of the house and when I draw level with the policeman on the blind woman’s doorstep I stop and say good evening.
    He nods his head, fingers the collar of his coat.
    I ask him if something is wrong, ambling across the driveway towards him. ‘Because I thought I heard something round the back.’
    He moves towards me, reaching for the radio on his belt. ‘You’d better show me, sir,’ he says.
    I let him go ahead of me and push the syringe into the fleshy spot behind his right ear. He turns. The radio is in his hand; he holds it there while I watch his eyes go dead. Then he drops to his knees and I take the radio away from him an instant before he falls on his face. I drag him to the rear of the house, bind and gag him and lay him on the floor of the garden shed.
    Now I am ready. I reason that the best way to get into the house is to knock on the front door. Whichever of them opens it I simply have to rush them. I have surprise on my side. If they refuse to open the door, they will be trapped inside. They cannot telephone out. I shall have ample time to go around the back and throw the lawn-mower through the sitting room window.
    If I don’t win with my first strategy, I still can’t lose.
    This is a nice neighbourhood. Professional people who keep themselves to themselves. Socio-economic class 1-1.2. They don’t go prying into each other’s business. The likelihood of someone calling round to borrow a cup of sugar is remote.
    With real estate of this value the boundaries are strictly observed. High hedges mark off each householder’s title and these people are so rich that they aren’t actually interested in their neighbours’ activities. To acquire and maintain great wealth the ego must be constantly tumescent.
    As I tap lightly on the front door I am in a state of high excitement. The blood is rushing through my veins like a swollen river. I