| The Dream Solution - Extract's |
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On this page you will find a extract from
Bernard O'Mahoney's book The Dream Solution published
by Mainstream Publishing :- |
Medium-hard beating
One day Fatman told me that, as the result of a neighbours'
dispute, one of the neighbours wanted the other 'taught
some manners'. I asked him what exactly was required.
Fatman said I needed to inflict a medium-hard beating
that would require the victim to seek hospital treatment,
without necessitating a lengthy stay on the wards.
The job was worth one thousand pounds - two hundred for
Fatman and eight hundred for me. In order to do the job
properly I needed a partner, so I asked Ray if he'd like
to join me for two hundred pounds. Ray agreed enthusiastically,
although I didn't tell him I was only giving him a quarter
of the fee.
I'd been told that the best time to get the man was when
he walked his dogs at six in the morning. I decided to
attack him the next day. Early next morning Ray and I
set off from the flat armed with a shampoo bottle full
of industrial ammonia, a knuckleduster and the Taylor
sisters' souvenir truncheon.
On the journey I discussed with Ray the plan of action.
I'd squirt the ammonia in the man's face, Ray would then
hit him with the truncheon and I'd finish him off with
the knuckleduster. Ray said: 'Okay', but I could tell
he wasn't looking forward to the task. Neither was I.
It was just business. It was a misty morning, so we were
able to park quite close to the man's house without worrying
about nosy neighbours taking our registration number.
It was a very exclusive area of Essex: tree-lined streets
hid roomy bungalows set in spacious grounds with neat
front gardens and wrought-iron fences.
An expensive car sat in each driveway. We sat in the car
watching the bungalow until a light came on. 'A side-door
opened and a man emerged with two poodles on leads. As
he started to walk down the gravel drive I said to Ray:
'Must be him. Let's go.' Ray looked pale and nervous.
We got out of the car and walked towards the man. 'Good
morning,' I said to him. 'Good morning,' he replied. I
asked him if he knew where Mr Smith lived. He said: 'Yes,
that's me.' Before he could say anything else I squirted
him in the face with the ammonia.
He screamed and clutched his burning eyes. Ray didn't
do anything. I shouted: 'Fucking hit him! Hit him!' But
the truncheon remained in his hand by his side. The dogs
had started yapping madly and jumping up and down. Their
leads threatened to tangle us all up.
I hit the man in the head with the knuckleduster. He fell
to his knees, still screaming and clutching his face.
I shouted again at Ray: 'For fuck's sake, hit him!' This
time Ray started waving his truncheon about without bringing
it down on the man. 'I can't get him! I can't get him!'
Ray said.
I hit the man once more in the head with the duster. He
fell forward, still screaming. Ray and I ran to the car
and drove off. As we made our escape through the country
lanes we passed a police car speeding towards the victim.
I was furious at Ray.
His cowardice could easily have got us arrested. I asked
him why he hadn't hit the man. He said, sheepishly, that
he couldn't get at him. I didn't say anything. I knew
he'd bottled out of it. And Ray knew it. And Ray knew
that I knew. |
| Contact : bernard.omahoney@bernardomahoney.com |
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