Broken Down Justice

The car only had a few hundred meters to drift, the engine had dies not far from the emergency layby on the M6 motorway, but it was still going to be touch and go if it would make it. He did not want to be left stranded in a lane, so he willed the car forward, just that little further.

Stepping out of the vehicle the cold wind whipped at his coat, thankful he had a hat and gloves also in the car; ready for such a situation as this. Dialling from his mobile as he waled to the relative safety of the grass embankment, he pulled the zip up and stamped his feet. The chill already seeping through his layers.

“Hello? Hello?” the roar of the traffic made it hard to hear the automated voice of the breakdown emergency line.

“yes, my name is Steven. Steven Dunn. I’ve broken down… I’m just past Birmingham on the M6… my registration? Yes its WK14 CVR… Audi… A5… white.” It frustrated him that the process took so long. All he needed was a tow truck to be sent out.

“by 1? Yes ok, thanks” it was just gone six. He would have to wait nearly two hours.

The breakdown lorry actually arrived in a little under one ninety minutes which pleased him. It would be great to get back as quickly as possible.

The driver, a large man, fittingly dressed in a large orange jacket and a dirty, battered baseball cap, a cigarette already hanging out of his mouth, introduced himself as Graham and advised waiting in the cab while the car was loaded onto the back of the truck.

“Am I taking you to your home address or to a garage?” Graham wasn’t a great conversationist and this was the only words he uttered during the 45 minute journey to chapel road garage.

He took advantage of the silent journey to check his phone.

He first checked his bank balance. It had increased by £20000 in the last twenty four hours.

He then checked the camera footage of the area around the quiet garage. There was no movement, the garage owners own car had long gone, the only vehicles were those waiting for repair. Finally he checked the stop watch. He still had at least 2 hours before the drugs would start wearing off.

Now with nothing to do but wait he went back over his preparation. He was nothing if not thorough.

Taking someone else’s identify always started with becoming their online self. This started with hacking email accounts. Whenever any website wanted to confirm you were who you claimed to be they would send an e-mail. He had a trusted spy app which could harvest information from any account he so wished. Obtaining information about Steven had been easy. Steven was not cyber security savvy. Simple passwords, even simpler password reminder questions and answers.

Once in, he could see so much information about Steven that he could have concocted a dozen or so plans he stuck to the original idea. He liked the elegance of outcome. Searching through the messages he quickly found the confirmation of cover sent by the breakdown cover. The e-mail gave him everything hem needed to know. Car make, model and colour. Registration number. And if needed, when the policy was taken out. He also confirmed that the breakdown cover was provided by a company who used local firms for roadside rescues. This was perfect.

Next job on the list was to get the car. But not just steal it, he needed to make sure that it was taken and not reported lost. Steven couldn’t even realise that the car was gone. In fact, he definitely wouldn’t realise the car was gone; he was going to be ‘gone’ with it.

He had waited outside the insurance office where Steven worked as a broker. On his phone as he walked to his car. Taking both would have to wait for a more opportune moment.

He followed Steven on his drive home. The target was a single man so acquiring him at his house was always the primary plan. It was a large house set back from a quiet road and was screened off from neighbours by high hedges. The chances of curtain twitchers was minimal. He had chosen to tail the man from his work as he liked to be prepared for any unexpected fortune which could taken advantage of.

He followed Steven into the drive way about 20 minutes later, parking his car closely behind Steven’s. Steven had, expectedly, leapt out of the car indignant at a stranger coming onto his property. It had been anticipated that this would be the man’s reaction. Over the last few weeks of surveillance Steven had shown himself as a man with little patience, little tolerance, and a lot of arrogant entitlement. The punch that knocked Steven out had been as swift as it was satisfying. Within a few seconds the unconscious form was tied and gagged in the boot of the white Audi A5.

He recalled the waiting had been frustrating, just like the delay caused by the silent recovery truck journey, but it had been essential. He needed to wait until he was sure that Graham; Steven Dunn’s dad, was on shift. It had to be him who responded to the breakdown callout.

He made sure his gloves were fitted tightly and his hat was pulled down to his eyes as the tow truck pulled into garages dark and deserted forecourt; Graham grabbing his own hat and gloves as he pushed himself out of the drivers seat to start unloading the malfunctioning car.

Pulling the heavy metal tool, taken earlier from the Audi’s spare tyre compartment, out of his coat, he confidently strode up behind graham. The tool was wielded by a hand experienced in how much force was needed to kill. The job was complete in one strike. He continued with a further five hits. Less to ensure Graham was dead; he was sure of his skills, more to mask his ability of killing with a single strike. To make the act seem the actions of an amateur rather than a professional.

He contemplated the long walk back towards town, plenty of time to remember when and how this latest job came to him.

Both the woman and the man had been crying. It was causing a scene that he had wanted to avoid. He hadn’t been sure they were serious at first. In fact he was convinced that there attempt at hiring an assassin, a mercenary, had been an emotional reaction that they both couldn’t afford and one that clearer heads would abandon. But, despite the emotion; or perhaps because of it, they were determined and clear in their desires.

Steven Dunn had killed their son, had run him down and driven off without a look back. His father had given him an alibi. They had no doubt that it had been an accident but their boy had been taken away from them and this hired killer was going to give them justice.

And he did.