Life hasn’t been fair to me. After leaving school, I tried to join the police. They said I was one centimetre too short, but I knew I’d bombed out on the IQ and aptitude tests, too. Throughout school I was handy with my fits. Actually, I enjoyed knocking the other boys senseless. My dad got me apprenticed as a boxer. After wasting a couple of years, I finally worked it out. I could bash up amateurs, but I was no match for trained boxers.
Unskilled, I was lucky to get this job in a crummy motel as receptionist on the night shift.
Geez, I hate work. But I always keep my eyes open, looking for easy money.
From midnight to 5 a.m. the rest of the staff clear off, and I’m the only one on duty. Aside from the newspaper van at 2 a.m., nothing disturbs the plodding rhythm of my shift. I invariably read the paper to fill in an hour. There, on the front page of The Cairns Post, was a CCTV photograph of two men, one of whom was my double; muscles, bull neck and all. The article stated that these two had overpowered the staff at Aphrodite’s Jewels in Spence Street, filling two canvas bags with virtually everything in the shop.
I remembered checking in my double at 10 p.m. He looked and dressed just like me. My thoughts were interrupted when this man rang the desk, asking for a six-pack of Bundy-Coke.
Finally, a lucky break. I’d be rich, I thought excitedly, as I knocked at his door.
The door opened a crack, revealing a sliver of a gloomy interior. ‘Leave it outside,’ said a gruff voice.
‘Open up or I ring the police.’ I jammed my toe in the door and dropped his room service order. It was nothing to bash the door open, knocking the occupant to the ground. I hoisted him up by the collar. ‘Where’s the haul?’ He played dumb, so I knocked him into an end table. As he lay there bleeding from the head, I only needed a glance around the room to find one canvas bag. A quick look inside confirmed kilos of diamonds and gold. As I turned to leave, I saw his mobile, wallet and keys. I grabbed them.
Out in the motel carpark, I pressed the crook’s car key and easily located his car. I reefed the car door open and heaved the canvas bag on the passenger seat. I climbed in, and cruised slowly out onto the highway. All I had to do is drive cautiously to my cousin’s place in Aloomba, spin her a tale, and lie low. Before long I’d be able to sell off the spoils and never work again. I grinned wolfishly.
Flashing lights in the distance wiped the smile off my face. I held my nerve and hoped that they were rushing to an emergency farther along the highway. After a long minute or two, it was obvious that I was in their sights. I hoped that it was just a broken taillight or something. Don’t panic, I told myself, just act relaxed, you can do this. I indicated and pulled off the road.
‘Can I help you, brother?’ I asked the policeman in a matey tone.
He and his partner dragged me out of the car, cuffed me and took the crook’s wallet from my pants pocket before I could think straight.
‘What? Why are you…’
‘A witness remembered your licence plate, Mastermind.’ My heart sank.
‘Look, I only borrowed the car!’ They laughed, reminding me of the CCTV footage. ‘That’s not me! I swear!’ Sweat poured down my face. My armpits suddenly felt soaked.
They checked my victim’s licence. ‘You’re Raymond James Harris?’ It sounded like a statement. I shook my head in denial.
‘Anything in the boot?’
‘Dunno. It isn’t my car!’ I was getting in too deep, too fast. Fear, and the humiliation of standing, cuffed by the side of the road, caused me to start shaking.
They opened the boot and gasped. I was positioned next to the driver’s door and couldn’t make out what they were saying or see in the boot. They seemed to reach a decision and I heard an incomprehensible radio call in police lingo. The man who’d made the call turned to me. ‘Smart move, Harris. Driving around with your murdered partner and the other canvas bag in the boot.’
I opened my mouth to explain everything. After all, what had I done? Beaten up a crook and borrowed his car. That’s nothing. They got nothing! My lips moved, but no sound came out. The policemen didn’t bother to hide their superior smirks.
I could hear a police siren in the distance. It was getting closer.
© Tropical Writers Inc 2025