Day 282 – Half Hour Hitman – Part 23

Currently I am in Switzerland (Lausanne) and wrote my story in a notebook on the train home from Saas Fee. When I get a chance tomorrow I will type it up and post it tomorrow.

Well after erm more than a month I have finally typed it up – god it was difficult reading my own handwriting! It’s bad guys. It’s really bad. I hate this series now.

Word count: 616

It was Fortrose’s birthday. Forty-three – there had been no cards through the door this morning, but Fortrose was not bothered. The older he got, the less he cared about birthdays and anniversaries. He had gotten up as usual and gone through his usual routine of breakfast, brush-teeth, shower and leave.
He was just pulling into the car park of work when his phone started ringing – partly looking at it, he could see it was from an unknown number. There wasn’t time to park and answer the call and he didn’t want to have an unknown missed call bugging him all day. He hated it when he missed calls from unknown numbers. It was the most irritating thing to him, especially today. He made a quick decision to answer the call.

“Hell, DI Fortrose.”
“I think it’s time we spoke in person. Meet me in an hour. Find a space you know you will be alone in. I will find you.”
“Who is this?”
“I will find you.”
The caller hung up. Fortorse was now wide awake with curiosity. He had heard the voice before. There could only be one thing that this related to.
Fortrose got out of his card and proceeded as normal. He knew that chief was watching his back. Dearling with the case underhandedly and secretly though hard, brushed up his secrecy skills.
He got to his desk. The usual team were there. They muttered a hello back as he announced his appearance. There were no cards here either. That was good. Fortrose wanted nothing more than a normal day. However, with the mysterious phone call that morning, he was sure to be in store for anything but.
Fortrose wasted the next fifty minutes. He got coffee, checked his email, went to the bathroom.He made four phone calls and then he decided he should find that place to be alone. All morning he had been thinking where to go but only one place kept cropping up in his mind.

Ten minutes later he was standing on an old piece of rail track secluded by trees. Three murders had taken place here in the last two years. It was the perfect place though Fortrose had no intention of being corpse number four.
From here Fortrose heard cars speed by on the road not too far away. The clunkity clunk of trains arriving and departing could also be heard from here. It was comforting. He may being watching by someone he didn’t know but somehow absolutely trusted.
Fortrose scoured the area for signs of someone else.
“Hello,” a voice behind him spoke.
Fortrose looked around and saw a man in jeans and plain tshirt smiling at him.
“Hello. Do I get your name?”
“No. Please call me by the name people know me as. I am the Half Hour Hitman.”
“Half Hour Hitman?”
“I am an assassin that kills in under thirty minutes.”
“So why come to a police officer?”
“Andy is alive. So long as I am alive, he will be too.”
“Do you have him?”
“I cannot answer that.”
“Cannot answer?”
“Cannot answer.”
“Why are you keeping him – it’s kidnap!”
“Perhaps, but my reasons are good enough. You will know in time. So will he.”
“What do you want from me?”
“I wanted to give you a happy day. I know what it is to be forty-three. I know that knowing you were doing the right thing was good enough.”
Fortrose was genuinely touched.
“Thank you, but – how do you know? How do you know so much?”
“Close your eyes.”
Fortrose did.
“Because I am an assassin…”
A cool breeze hit him and he opened his eyes. The Half Hour Hitman was gone.

~ by S.G. Mark on July 15, 2012.

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