Just Another Day - Clark Steven - Страница 5
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Now, it was his turn to stare. He stood transfixed for a second and then said, ‘OK Joe, just a quick look in the wagon before you go eh?’
Joe looked down at Dave. His mouth didn’t move but his eyes were trying to speak. Dave didn’t see the look of fear as he had already started walking round to the passenger side of the lorry.
He looked up at the man in black. ‘Open the door mate’ said Dave. The passenger wound the window down, ‘what’s the problem officer?’
‘No problem mate, just a routine check of the cab and a quick look in the bunk behind you before you leave.’ He had said those words countless times over the years. Today was just another day.
‘Open the door please mate’ said Dave as he looked up to make eye contact with the man.
‘Doors open mate’ came the calm, matter of fact reply.
Dave took hold of the door handle and pulled. The door opened easily. Because of the size of the wagon, his head and shoulders were at seat height as he opened the door, he was still looking at the passengers face attempting to gauge any reaction. His experience over the years had told him that guilty people often get nervous when they have something to hide; they break eye contact, become twitchy and fidgety. This man wasn’t in the least nervous and looked him squarely in the eye.
The door opened fully. ‘You just made the biggest fuckin mistake of your life ‘mate’ said the man in black.
‘What’s your problem?’ said Dave.
‘I haven’t got one. But you have you nosey bastard. Why didn’t you just take the pass and fuck off back into your little hut?’ The strangers’ eyes lowered and Dave followed his gaze. Laying across his knees, and no more than three feet away, was a sawn off, double barrelled shotgun pointing directly at his face.
‘Oh sweet Jesus’ he said as his knees began to sag as he saw the finger on the trigger. He continued to look at the twin tubes. He knew he had said the words, but he thought they were from a movie and he would suddenly wake up, ‘am I going to die today?’ Much to his surprise, his voice was quiet and calm and he was just hoping that his bowels would remain intact.
Dave felt his initial panic begin to subside and his emotions began to change. He started to feel a sense of anger and outrage as he looked across at Joe sat in the drivers’ seat. He was terrified; his hands gripped the steering wheel like a vice. He was shocked rigid. Joe was a decent ordinary bloke who was now caught up in something he had absolutely no control over. It was patently obvious, given his grey pallor and rigid arms that there was no way he was sat there willingly.
Often referred to as ‘fight or flight’; people act instinctively without thinking and they either run like fuck; or get stuck in. Nobody can ever really tell how they will react until the situation is thrust upon them. Dave felt the anger rise within. How dare this evil, bullying bastard scare the shit out of an ordinary bloke who causes no harm to any one and just wants to drive for a living. I’d like to rip that shotgun from your fuckin hands mate and shove it up your...
Dave was brought out of his rising anger.
‘That depends on you mate.’ said the gunman. ‘Get in and don’t say a fuckin word. One dodgy move and you’ll have a big hole where your guts used to be.’
He climbed into the cab and sat next to the gunman. As he felt the barrel of the gun press into the right side of his ribs, incredibly, he heard himself laugh out loud. It was a mixture of fear and adrenaline. The barrel was rammed harder into his side and he winced in pain.
‘Just what is it about this situation that you find so fucking funny?’
‘It was when you said, one dodgy move, it sounded like something out of a film.’
‘Shotgun’ leaned closer, his eyes were piercing and wild and Dave was certain this wasn’t the first armed robbery he’d been involved in, not by a long way.
‘Then you’d better hope to fuck that this film has a happy ending.’
He repeated Dave’s words of a few moments earlier when he opened the cab door, ‘am I going to die today,’ he mockingly whined as Dave saw the fingers tighten on the trigger. He half closed his eyes waiting for the blast to erupt. He had seen photo’s of close quarter shotgun wounds whilst doing his training. He knew enough to know that he would die almost instantly as the two barrels unleashed together would practically cut him in half.
‘I’d like to off you now mate but you might come in useful. But, don’t you worry porky, I’d be more than happy to do you later.’ Not taking his eyes off Dave, Shotgun said to Joe, ‘Get this fuckin wagon movin or plod here will be wearing his fuckin guts like a necklace.’
Dave didn’t know as yet but his new found friend was none other than Luke Johnson a notorious armed robber also known as ‘chopper Johnson’. He earned his nickname as a nineteen year old involved in an armed robbery of a Security guard who was carrying a cash box that was handcuffed to his wrist. Just prior to the guard depositing the box in his security van, he was kicked to the ground by Johnson who was armed with a three foot long machete.
The guard’s evidence at the subsequent trial made for traumatic listening and one juror needed medical treatment for shock.
‘I’m sorry that you have to relive these events Mr D, but could you tell the members of the jury what happened next.’
Mr Jameson, the prosecuting Barrister, was in full flow and turned dramatically to the jurors, ‘I apologise to you in advance for what you are about to hear. It is indeed extremely brutal, but it is necessary for you to be fully aware of the vicious and callous nature of the defendant.’ Jameson knew, as he was a very experienced barrister and well practised in courtroom theatricals, that the dramatic swing of his gown and the pointing at the defendant in the dock would have the faces of the jurors following his every move. He was not disappointed as he saw that all eyes were now on the scowling menace behind the glass screen.
‘I’m sorry,’ said Jameson with another dramatic gesture back to the witness box, ‘please continue Mr D; please be assured that your recollection of the events, notwithstanding the pain you will endure in the course of you having to recall the unnecessary violence you suffered is of vital importance. The members of the jury must be left in no doubt as to the wanton and violent nature of the defendant.’ With a sweep of his hand behind him to gather his flowing gown, Mr Jameson sat down.
‘Continue in your own time Mr D.’
‘Yes sir,’ said the guard. ‘I didn’t see him coming; the visor of my helmet was down as I left the Supermarket entrance and walked to my van about twenty yards away. It was just going dark but the street lights had not yet come on. There were plenty of shoppers and customers around and everything seemed just normal. Nothing untoward. As part of our training we always carry out dynamic risk assessments.
Jameson rose once more, ‘for the benefit of the jury who may not fully understand such terminology, can you just explain Mr D what you mean by that.’
‘Oh, yes sir, sorry about the jargon, all it means is that we are continually assessing the risk. Each time we drive somewhere, every time we stop, before we leave the safety of the cash van. We always have a good look around and if we see anything even slightly suspicious, we don’t get out of the van and we report it over the radio right away.’
‘Yes, thank you Mr D, please continue.
‘I collected the sealed container from the store, checked my exit route out and was escorted to the front entrance by the store security officer. Normally he would escort me to the back of the van as an extra precaution but, before we reached the door, he received a radio message to say that the staff had apprehended a shop lifter and he was required to assist them and await the arrival of the police.
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