The Blue Mercedes swept around the narrow mountain roads, testing the suspension as it swerved around every precipitous bend and jerked over each pothole dangerously. Larry looked in the rear view mirror and breathed a sigh of relief that he was not being followed. Now sheer nerves were the only things driving him on. Once again he had given them the slip, but he had notched up another crime in his desperation to escape. How could this have happened to him of all people? Larry Lawton, the small town hero who had dragged that small town from poverty to incredible prosperity, through, over thirty years of hard work and sacrifice. This was how all of the people who he had planted in excellent, well-paid jobs, were repaying him. They were all baying for his blood, like angry terriers. Oh, what a short selective memory they all had.
Remember Smethhurst, it was me that gave you the job as the Director of the brand new state of the art gym and swimming pool facility, when the only swimming stroke that you were ever familiar with was the typing-pool breast stroke. The same breast stroke that got you sacked from the Town Hall offices. What a fool I was to feel sorry for you. Even at cocktail parties I used to suffer watching your ugly, leering face almost falling into Lola’s bosom. You didn’t even realise that she was laughing at you. But then vermin like you cannot see past their own pathetic vanity.
And Cox, walking around the conference centre as if you had your dick stuck underneath a magnifying glass, just trying to convince yourself that you’re such a big man. It was me who promoted you from tea-boy to Manager of the promotions department, because you were being bullied by Burr, who you worked for in Accounts and who hated the sight of you.
And after thirty years of marriage to you Lola, who I rescued from a certain prison sentence, concerning your role in that massive fraud that you were in on, when you ran the Accounts of that massive construction firm. You were one of the prime offenders, but when you came to work for me I paid a fortune in bribes and under hand bungs to cast you as an innocent victim. Oh yes indeed, there was an ulterior motive and you were the perfect foil for me, young, pretty and bubbly. The perfect disguise for me to hide the way I really was. Oh yes, you were the perfect hostess at parties and appeared to be the model wife to the man who single handed, turned a ghost town into a boomtown. You knew right from the beginning the true role that you were being groomed for in my life.
But you didn’t mind, because I offered you wealth and luxury beyond your wildest dreams. Even your secret affairs worked to my advantage, in and out of our work and social circles. This gave me the perfect excuse to divorce you after thirty years and still retain my cover. Oh Lola, how I underestimated your greed. And when your friend Mia came to visit me on several occasions, when you were away on your secret love meetings, the silly cow thought that I didn’t know. She thought it was her solemn duty to tell me and try to comfort me. How offended she was when I fended off her sexual advances. She was probably not getting what she wants from that senile old grunt that she’s married to, and thought that I could accommodate her. The look of disbelief on her face when I gave her the feeble excuse that I was a personal friend of her husband.
I was born the way I am and have had to behave like an undercover agent to hide and conceal my own true feelings. Why should this be? After all, aren’t we all God’s children? We could have reached some agreement, Lola. To put hidden cameras in my private study was dastardly and diabolical, even by your standards. I even tried to bluff myself that it must have been your latest boyfriend Colin’s, idea. Maybe Colin may have been content with sixty thousand, but not you Lola, oh, not you! No, I can’t blame you for everything Lola, after all, I had thirty years to pull out, thirty years to come clean and shout from the rooftops my true feelings, my true persona. But I was afraid that the sneaky hypocrites who I nurtured and fed would turn against me.
The castle which I had built was simply too big to abandon and leave to the vermin who had the guile to call me a friend. I wasn’t motivated by greed, or money. My main motive was to change lives, to lift the down trodden and give them some dignity and reason to live. Yes, when I was nominated for the Council I made it clear to everybody that I intended to make massive and sweeping changes to a town that had stagnated and had been kept in the past. Yes, I made it clear that I would put an immediate stop to jobs being handed down through families and family connections. The dynamics that I put in place and resided over for thirty years even put the town on the front pages of the Financial Times. How I did it was so simple, but so brilliant. Firstly I put all of the self-centred, blind, oblivious and prehistoric old buffoons running the Council into immediate retirement. Then I hand picked my team for all of the many plans and projects I had.
My first baby was to invite big companies to open factories and plants, just on the edge of town. And the irresistible carrot I dangled under their noses was to let them pay absolutely nothing to the Council. The only clause was that they had to employ and train local youth and the unemployed. My ideas to grasp the latest technology and put in place facilities for training and development for future generations, was visionary. And to build cheap accommodation for teachers and nurses to lure them to the town was revolutionary. For years people were moving out in droves, leaving shops, supermarkets and schools empty. Everything was closing down before Larry Lawton heralded in a new era. Now people were moving in and all of the big supermarket chains were pleading with the Council to allow them to move in. More jobs, more prosperity and more demand to improve and beautify the whole town, thanks to the intrepid Larry Lawton.
How I thanked God when the kingdom I had built would have surely excommunicated me when I was caught with a naked man in an uncompromising situation, in a local sauna. How could I have been so cavalier about what I was up to?
‘What is the meaning of this?’ the owner of the sauna had said. Yes indeed! What was the meaning of the way I am? How could anybody understand? If I had been caught with a nude woman nobody would have batted an eyelid! Luckily the false name and credentials, which I had left at reception were used in the local paper. And how fortunate I had been when the owner of the sauna was so shocked at my lewd antics that he didn’t even recognise my face in the semi darkness.
Not many women get a salary of five hundred pounds going into their Bank account every week for doing absolutely nothing Lola, but not many people are as greedy as you are.
How many bloody cameras did you have to plant in my study to make sure you got plenty of footage to blackmail me? They think I murdered you, because you were having an affair Lola. Nobody saw me hand over the sixty thousand as you laughed in my face and waved the recording under my nose. Nobody saw you humiliate me and taunt me about the way I was born. Nobody knew that the film that you were holding was a copy of Last Tango In Paris. That was what got you off any suspicion of blackmail when the police arrived. Because when the investigation was over there was no evidence against you. Nobody saw you sneering at me and demanding another hundred thousand, because you had several copies, from several different angles.
Nobody saw you jump back when I tried to grab the film. Nobody saw you dance onto the balcony and make a ploy to throw the film away. Nobody heard you chanting and calling me those awful names. Nobody saw me desperately try to wrestle the film from you. Nobody saw you spit in my face and threaten to expose me to everybody. Nobody saw me try to grab the film when you threw it. Nobody saw you slip and fall over the balcony. But everybody saw your body splattered all over the pavement Lola, everybody. Even in death you managed to stab at me Lola, even in death.
It should not have ended in this way Lola, but Colin made the mistake of falling in love with you. You only had five years to wait and that five hundred thousand pounds that I put in a secure trust for you would have been all yours automatically. That was my insurance to keep you quiet and content. But I never thought that you’d meet a man who could match me for wealth, but Colin the stockbroker, came along and threw my game plan. Yes, I made a lot of money from the companies and joint ventures I set up, but I was also providing jobs. Yes, I was paid a fortune for giving speeches at various seminars and functions all over the country, but I was also bringing trade to the town.
That’s when you must have had the cameras fitted in my study, when I was away on business. I even invented your image as a dynamic fighter for women’s rights, and a fashion icon. It was me who got you the column in the local paper, and your fan mail poured in from women everywhere. Little did anybody know that it was really me who wrote and designed your column secretly. The mistake I made was that I did not think a woman like you could actually fall in love. I know Colin is fifteen years younger than I am, and openly vents his dislike for people like me in public. But he didn’t have to learn about me through you Lola. Could that have been the chemical reaction for both of you to try and blackmail me? The poison chalice of greed, treachery and blind hatred for things you don’t understand.
Now look at the scum I helped. Smethhurst live on television, leering at every female interviewer and photographer and their cleavages. I bet he wishes he were doing the same breaststroke, which got him sacked from the Town Hall typing pool. And just listen to the rubbish he’s telling the press. I was a drunken, brutal husband that used to beat you up, and you would cry on his shoulder and ask for his help. You wouldn’t have touched him with a ten-foot barge pole.
And Cox, flouncing around like Noel Coward in front of the cameras and talking as if he’s got a plum in his mouth and prancing about as if he’s got a broom stuck up his arse. He must have told every reporter who would listen that I killed you in a fit of jealous rage, without spitting that imaginary plum out of his gob. From hero to desperado overnight! Cold blooded, callous murderer of two innocent people. Frenzied fiend that escaped in his car, slinked away under the Channel tunnel and drove like a maniac across France and Spain, with three Police forces in hot pursuit.
My second innocent victim tried to bushwhack me with a shotgun. I only drove into that petrol station outside Paris to fill up my car with petrol. I sensed that the petrol station owner may have recognised my face, after all, it’s been plastered over every newspaper and shown on every news channel in Europe. When I paid and got into my car to drive away, he flew out of the station door and levelled a double barrel shotgun in front of my windscreen, and cocked it. It’s hardly surprising I ran him over and left tyre prints from his head to his toes. Why? Why? Why are we so wise with hindsight?
Yes, I did notice the look of utter disgust on Colin’s face when you introduced him to my friend Arnold, and the vulgar smirk on your face when you looked at me Lola. Was it beyond your comprehension that Arnold and I may have actually been in love? For thirty years I gently held you in my hands like a kitten, knowing full well that you were really a viper in my bosom. You could have left me whenever you wanted, but you had to leave with the cruellest possible parting shot that you could deliver. You must have hated me so much that you wanted to reduce me to the level of a porn star, for all the world to see. You must have been so envious of me and so bitter towards me, that you had to destroy me at all costs, because I was all you could never be…. Oh, sweet charming Lola.
Suddenly I see the roadblock and the green clad Civil Guard, trying to flag me down. The bonnet of my car sends him flying into the air with a sickening thud. I look in the rear mirror and see the Police cars cascading down the mountain roads with sirens wailing. The Civil Guards standing at the roadblock desperately open fire with their guns. They aim for my tyres and then my windscreen. The windscreen shatters and bullets whiz by my head.
I laugh out loud and shout – ‘My name is Larry Lawton, businessman extraordinaire. I was married to Lola for thirty years. Until she got a quickie divorce via a ten story window of a luxury apartment block. I am a good man and a sincere, compassionate human being.’ – I hear the sirens looming up behind me and see the Police cars piling up the road from behind. More gunshots and my rear window shatters and more bullets and fragments of glass whiz by my head. A bullet lodges in my shoulder and the pain is excruciating. There are tears in my eyes, blurring my vision and trickling down my face. There is sadness and pain in my heart and fear of the unknown.
I see the red sign reading, NO ENTRY – END OF ROAD. I drive straight towards the sign and send it flying. I suddenly find myself flying over a high cliff and my car begins to turn somersaults. I see the clear blue sky and the deep blue sea, spinning around and around. I see the sharp, jagged rocks below and yes, at last, I am finally leaving Lola…..