Clive And The Young Man Left example essay topic

How much he said as he swung round in his oversized leather chair. Like I said, unless you want Alright, you win, fifty thousand it is then. He was getting too old for this sort of thing. A happy man in his mid-forties Clive Richardson was the owner of Richardson Autos, a business set up about fifty years ago by his father. Now, the future did not seem so bright, but this had gone far enough. I am glad to see your common sense has prevailed.

The reply came from a young man, with jet-black hair and a slightly tanned complexion. I will wait for the money in the post, delivery in three days. Indeed confirmed Clive and the young man left. Melissa, can you send Charles and Rupert in please Certainly Mr. Richardson, right away Sir. Clive employed Charles and Rupert under the job description handymen but really they did anything that needed to be done. Okay listen up, Ive got a problem.

Follow the man who just left and deal with him in any way with which you feel appropriate, I just dont want to see him here again. We will sort out your wages when the job is completed. Sure thing, and with that, the two handymen left the car showroom in pursuit of the red BMW that had just pulled away. They turned out of the showroom to see the BMW two cars in front of them; the road was too narrow to try risk overtaking anyone so they drove onwards.

Suddenly the BMW took a sharp turn to the left and before they knew it the handymen had missed the turning, and lost their target. Clive, this is Charles. Weve lost him. This is his address, Twenty-four Birch Tree Drive, go there and dont mess up this time.

Okay. It was a humble abode, with a well-kept garden and bright red front door. It did not look like much from the outside, which was what the young man, Tony James, wanted peopl to think. As they pulled up outside, Charles and Rupert thought they had the wrong address, but sure enough, this was it. They went round the side, then, checking that nobody was watching them, climbed over the back gate.

It was very different from the inside; the spotless kitchen gleamed and shone, it was quite a contrast to the outside. They searched the house; there was no sign of any living thing, apart from the gerbil in the living room. They were about to leave, when a sudden thought struck Charles. Tell you what, he said Why dont we smash that light bulb and leave the gas on Why Rupert asked, puzzled. He would not have won a prize for the most intelligent man in the world. Because then when he gets back and turns on the light, he won't be able to see an awful lot, will he Cool man, lets do it.

As they left there was a smug air about them, like a pupil who has just handed in a piece of work that he knows will achieve ten out of ten. At that same time the Tony James was browsing the shelves of holiday magazines in Thomas Cook, wondering in which country he would empty his bank account, he finally decided on America, California, and left the travel agents. He hopped into his BMW and headed off towards his house, unaware of the peril that lay in store for him. He pulled up outside his house and stepped out of the car, not noticing the two suspicious looking men sitting in the Ford Transit van parked across the street. As he turned the key on the lock a strange smell wafted up his nostrils. Wondering what it was he followed it towards the kitchen.

All at once he noticed the shards of glass on the floor. It being too gloomy to see where they had come from he flicked the switch on impulse. It was the last mistake he made. Charles and Rupert waited for what seemed like an age, and suddenly as if in slow motion a great fireball ripped through the house in a blinding flash of white light.

For a moment their eyes were dazzled, and then they saw the damage that they had caused. If someone could have been inside the house, untouched by the flames they would have been amazed at how fast the fire consumed everything and anything in its path. It was like a starved tiger, feasting on its prey after not having eaten for days. The flames licked at the base of an art-deco sofa and then slithered over its surface like a python, the sofa in its unbreakable grasp.

The python now had ultimate control over the lower part of the house, and began to curl round the banisters and up the carpeted stairs slowly but unstoppably causing ultimate destruction. In the distance the wail of fire engines could be heard. Ten minutes later the fire was under control and nearly extinguished, but Tony James was no more, and the police investigation had already been halted, the fire had been blamed on an accidental gas leak. The killers had been successful in their job and were going to collect their pay. But what Clive did not know was that the secret of his illicit affairs in stolen cars had not been taken to the grave by Tony James. He had made more prints of the photos and left them in a high security safe, bequeathed to one person who knew exactly what to do if the worst happened. B. Jones 03/11/99.