Dial M for Monkey Read Online Free PDF Page A

my parched tongue, the gun too heavy and desperately cold in my hand.
    ‘Where,’ I croaked. ‘Do you keep the ketamine?’
    ‘We – um – don’t have any?’ said the vet. ‘We are waiting for – erm – that is, an order that was – um – Monday! I was operating on a horse, you see and we, that is, I used all of our stock sedating it. It’s not due until Monday.’
    I tried to stay calm. Had I blown it? Trudy began yapping repeatedly. I looked at the vet, then at the nurse. Trudy’s yap was high pitched, piercing and insistent. I felt a tic developing in my left temple.
    ‘Shut up,’ I screamed and grabbed the nurse. ‘Do you want to have to hire a new nurse?’
    Trudy whimpered. Seconds out, round three.
    ‘I – I – er,’ he began.
    The nurse coughed and pointed at a fridge on the far wall. I let her go and pulled Trudy’s lead. She hopped to the ground and trotted over with me.
    It was a dirty business, I reasoned as I drove away. I had managed to get a rucksack full of horse tranquillisers. Maybe my luck was turning. And my brother told me no-one ever robs vets.
    That’s the point, I told him. That’s the point.

A Stroll Along The Prom Prom Prom
    T he promenade had long ago begun to disintegrate and the council's lack of interest had meant that no-one even walked down the prom the way they used to.
    Two elderly figures moved stoicly along, lost in a world where the prom was freshly painted and it wasn't a dangerous place to be. Two men, both white haired, were walking along, moving slower than they probably needed.
    ‘You seen Dave at the club then?’ asked Mac, his cane not really making much contact with the ground.
    ‘Nah, Tommy said he was on his last legs at the home,’ replied Percy.
    ‘Bastard still owes me a tenner.’
    ‘You’ll never see that again.’
    ‘Remember when he lost that bet with the sergeant and didn’t have any money?’
    Percy laughed, ‘Yes, and the sarge beat him to within an inch of his life!’
    The pair stopped by one of the booths that peppered the prom and stared out to sea, both lost in the memory.
    Out of the shadows of a viewing booth a youngster stepped into their path. They stopped.
    ‘Money. Now. And your watches.’
    He was cocky, not even a hint of threat in his voice until.
    ‘Now, grandads!’ he screamed, phlegm flying from his mouth and shoving the stickless septegenarian backwards.
    Carefully the old man reached an antique hand into his coat pocket and began rummaging for something. After a few moments he began to remove it.
    The second gentleman, Mac, took the opportunity and lifted his cane into the air, whirling it left to right and connecting with the boy's temple with a crunch.
    The youngster crumpled to the ground and grandad number one pressed a button and the blade of a knife jumped out to slice through the sea-fretted air.
    Percy lunged forward towards the prone kid lying face-down on the ground and slid the knife into his back under the ribs.
    A hiss escaped from between the kid's lips and he fell forward to the floor, his hands grasping out for anything, his jaw opening and closing like a fish dragged from the sea. Almost as soon as he hit the floor Percy lowered himself carefully to the boy’s side, staring into his eyes as he began to turn faintly blue. Percy shook his head and gently placed his leather-gloved hand over the boy’s mouth and nose and watched as he slowly, silently suffocated.
    ‘Lung?’
    ‘Lung,’ he nodded, taking the wallet from the tracksuit bottoms. For a moment he broke his gaze as he checked the contents of the wallet. He took out a picture of the boy with his girlfriend or wife and child. ‘Is this how you support them?’
    The kid’s mouth was still bobbing as his face began to turn blue. Percy tossed the photo at him and hauled himself back to his feet before putting the wallet in his coat pocket.
    The pair moved off a little faster than before.
    ‘Where'd you learn that?’
    ‘The Sarge.’
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