hide in there.’
‘Like what?’
‘Like a dead body. Like this nephew your sister keeps banging on about.’
‘You’re out of your fucking mind,’ shrieked Albert. ‘I haven’t touched him.’
‘Then why isn’t he saying anything? If he’s in therewith you, let him say something – provided he’s still alive, that is.’
‘Oh God, oh God, I’m going mad,’ Albert moaned.
‘Is that what you’re going to plead in court? That you’re out of your mind, that you’re a homicidal maniac? And where is Mrs Ponson? Is she dead too?’
Albert slumped to the floor and whimpered, in the darkness inadvertently seating himself in a pool of oil. Outside, the chief inspector and the inspector smiled happily and crossed the road.
‘I reckon we’ve finally got the bastard,’ the chief inspector said gleefully. ‘I’ve been waiting years for this day. He’ll get life plus, as sure as eggs is eggs.’
‘Why do you think the place is in darkness?’ said the inspector. ‘It doesn’t make sense.’
‘The old bird we sent down to the hospital was right after all. She did hear shots. That would have been when he killed the lad. Then, having got the body out of the house, and probably having dumped it somewhere, he comes back and puts a bullet through the main electricity cable so he’s got some sort of alibi. There must have been blood on the carpet or wherever and he’d have got rid of that far away from the body. In a river or somewhere like that.’
‘And the car? What’s he done with that?’
‘Same as the carpet, or perhaps flogged it,’ the chief inspector said. ‘There’s almost certainly blood on it too.’
They were interrupted by a tracked bulldozer thatwas grinding up the road. The two police officers crossed the road towards the garage.
‘Put the hook over the top,’ the chief inspector ordered.
There was a scream from inside the garage.
‘For shit’s sake, don’t pull the fucking thing, I’ve told you the whole front will come down. I mean the house.’
‘I can’t see how. I mean, we’re only going to drag that gate down. Shove the bloody great hook over the top and stand clear, lads.’
As the bulldozer moved up, and the huge hook at the end of the chain was pushed over the top of the metal gate, Albert shouted even more frantically.
‘The gate’s let into the wall of the house, for Christ’s sake.’
‘Pull the other one, Al, you crook,’ the sergeant shouted back. ‘You’ve got something hidden inside.’
The bulldozer had gone into reverse and as the chain took up the strain, it was clear that Albert Ponson had been telling the truth. The entire front of the house was moving forward. Seconds later, the roof tilted and then, as the wall fell into the garden, the roof dropped after it.
When the wall started to shift, Albert had had the sense to race to the back of the bungalow and was now lying under a bed close to a column on top of which two steel girders rested that had previously supported the roof. Above him, the darkened sky began to indicate rain. When the roof’s fall forwards had finally stopped, he crawled out, shocked by thenoise, the cement and the concrete dust, and above all by the demise of his dream house. To add to the horror of the situation, several water pipes had broken in the bathrooms and one perverse pipe directly above his head was taking excellent aim at his face. As Albert opened his mouth to scream for help, while trying to disentangle his left leg from some electric cables, he realised he was in acute danger of drowning. Then came the thought that one of those bloody coppers might take it into his head to switch the electricity on in which case he’d be electrocuted as well.
With a desperate, not to say frantic, effort, Albert pulled his leg free and used it to kick the wires away. Heaving himself out of the now shattered window frame, he crawled through the undergrowth and went to hide in the depths of a large evergreen shrub.
‘Like what?’
‘Like a dead body. Like this nephew your sister keeps banging on about.’
‘You’re out of your fucking mind,’ shrieked Albert. ‘I haven’t touched him.’
‘Then why isn’t he saying anything? If he’s in therewith you, let him say something – provided he’s still alive, that is.’
‘Oh God, oh God, I’m going mad,’ Albert moaned.
‘Is that what you’re going to plead in court? That you’re out of your mind, that you’re a homicidal maniac? And where is Mrs Ponson? Is she dead too?’
Albert slumped to the floor and whimpered, in the darkness inadvertently seating himself in a pool of oil. Outside, the chief inspector and the inspector smiled happily and crossed the road.
‘I reckon we’ve finally got the bastard,’ the chief inspector said gleefully. ‘I’ve been waiting years for this day. He’ll get life plus, as sure as eggs is eggs.’
‘Why do you think the place is in darkness?’ said the inspector. ‘It doesn’t make sense.’
‘The old bird we sent down to the hospital was right after all. She did hear shots. That would have been when he killed the lad. Then, having got the body out of the house, and probably having dumped it somewhere, he comes back and puts a bullet through the main electricity cable so he’s got some sort of alibi. There must have been blood on the carpet or wherever and he’d have got rid of that far away from the body. In a river or somewhere like that.’
‘And the car? What’s he done with that?’
‘Same as the carpet, or perhaps flogged it,’ the chief inspector said. ‘There’s almost certainly blood on it too.’
They were interrupted by a tracked bulldozer thatwas grinding up the road. The two police officers crossed the road towards the garage.
‘Put the hook over the top,’ the chief inspector ordered.
There was a scream from inside the garage.
‘For shit’s sake, don’t pull the fucking thing, I’ve told you the whole front will come down. I mean the house.’
‘I can’t see how. I mean, we’re only going to drag that gate down. Shove the bloody great hook over the top and stand clear, lads.’
As the bulldozer moved up, and the huge hook at the end of the chain was pushed over the top of the metal gate, Albert shouted even more frantically.
‘The gate’s let into the wall of the house, for Christ’s sake.’
‘Pull the other one, Al, you crook,’ the sergeant shouted back. ‘You’ve got something hidden inside.’
The bulldozer had gone into reverse and as the chain took up the strain, it was clear that Albert Ponson had been telling the truth. The entire front of the house was moving forward. Seconds later, the roof tilted and then, as the wall fell into the garden, the roof dropped after it.
When the wall started to shift, Albert had had the sense to race to the back of the bungalow and was now lying under a bed close to a column on top of which two steel girders rested that had previously supported the roof. Above him, the darkened sky began to indicate rain. When the roof’s fall forwards had finally stopped, he crawled out, shocked by thenoise, the cement and the concrete dust, and above all by the demise of his dream house. To add to the horror of the situation, several water pipes had broken in the bathrooms and one perverse pipe directly above his head was taking excellent aim at his face. As Albert opened his mouth to scream for help, while trying to disentangle his left leg from some electric cables, he realised he was in acute danger of drowning. Then came the thought that one of those bloody coppers might take it into his head to switch the electricity on in which case he’d be electrocuted as well.
With a desperate, not to say frantic, effort, Albert pulled his leg free and used it to kick the wires away. Heaving himself out of the now shattered window frame, he crawled through the undergrowth and went to hide in the depths of a large evergreen shrub.
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