Burglar

Rex is a burglar who rob people's houses and sell items to antique shop. He has a girlfriend who is on benefits so he helps her out with the money. The girl has a child from another man who is a drug addict and he always pesters her for money.

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3. Chapter Three

Rex didn’t move, he was standing by the window.  Tina was leaning across the sofa pleading with Shawn to let Steven go.  Holding the knife and Steven with one hand, he used the other to open the front door.

“Give me the money,” he shouted.  He was now in the doorway, one hand holding Steven and one holding the knife.

Tina hurriedly took the money from her pocket and threw it at Shawn.  It landed on the floor just in front of him.  Again holding Steven and the knife with one hand, he scooped the money up with his other hand and backed out into the corridor. 

“You fucking bitch,” he shouted finally and flung Steven into the room.  Then he ran down the corridor and away.  Tina grabbed Steven and pressed his little body to her.  She was crying hysterically and almost squeezed the life out of him.  Rex looked down the corridor, Shawn had gone.  He closed the door.  He went to the window and soon saw Shawn running out of the tower block below.

“That man should be in prison,” said Rex.  He went over to Tina and hugged her and Steven.  Tina calmed down and stopped crying.  He knew that everything would be forgotten in a week and she’d welcome back Shawn with open arms.  It had happened before and she’d always forgiven him eventually.  He sat her down on the sofa with Steven on her lap and went into the kitchen to make her a strong cup of coffee.

“Look, it’s not late, d’you want to go for a burger with the little fella?” he suggested.

“He’s taken my hundred pounds,” she said, beginning to cry again.

“I’ll give you another ton.  Don’t worry about it.”  He took out his wallet and counted out another one hundred and placed it on the coffee table in front of her.

“Oh, Rex, you’re so kind.  She sat Steven on the other side of the sofa and stood up and walked over to Rex.  Her arms went round his waist as she kissed him slowly full on the lips.  He kissed her back and she felt his crutch for any sign of growth.  Feeling his hard on, she gently pulled him towards the bedroom.

As he lay on top of her, pumping her hard but slow, she allowed her tears to flow in climatic heaven.  Steven stood by the bedroom door, curious by the moaning, and watched his mum wrap her legs around Rex’s naked waist.

 

Rex got home at eleven o’clock.  There weren’t any lights on so he guessed they were all in bed.  He went to his room, this time switching on the lights as he went, checking for any of Ronnie’s little mines.  There were none.  He lay on his bed and thought about the journey he’d made back from Tina’s that night.  He had gone a different way due to road works, and had passed a large mansion called Fleece House.  Though it was only eleven, he had seen no lights on.  The place looked ripe for doing.  The house seemed secluded and the nearest neighbour was about a mile away.  As everybody in the mansion was asleep or at least in bed, he decided he would burgle the mansion that very night.

He popped the boot of his car and looked in the bag of tools.  He was relieved to see the revolver lying there proud and strong.  He got in his car and drove towards Fleece House.  The wall round Fleece House was not brick and therefore offering no toe holds, it was dry stone wall and was virtually a ladder.  He parked the car under a big tree that grew on the other side of the wall and went to the boot.  He lifted out the bag of tools and flung it over his shoulder.  Then after locking his car and putting tight fitting rubber gloves on, he climbed over the wall.  There were more trees, though not as big as the one he stood under.  He walked through them towards the house.  He came out of the trees and saw the house across a well kept lawn.  The house was raised about ten feet from the edge of the lawn, a brick face with flowers and shrubs growing up it.

Rex didn’t fancy climbing it so looked around for steps.  He could see none so walked around the house until he came to some.  He walked up the steps and found himself on a paved terrace.  The front door was directly in front of him.  And to the left were a bench and table.  He moved round the house looking at the windows, until he came to one that looked vulnerable.  He put the bag down and peered through the window, it was dark inside.  He decided this would be the window, it was about four feet high and three wide.  He took the masking tape from the bag and stuck some on the glass in front of the window’s opening handle.  Then he got out the crowbar and knocked it gently on the taped glass.  The glass smashed but didn’t fall to the ground creating a noise; it was held firm by the tape.  He removed the taped glass and soon the opening handle was exposed.  He opened the window.

It was at that moment in time that he heard a snarling a short distance away.  He looked along the terrace, straining his eyes to see what it was and caught sight of a large black figure about fifty feet away.  Satan rushed at Rex.  But Rex was too fast and went into the house through the open window, closing it in Satan’s face.  Satan barked for half a minute then vanished.  The bag was still outside on the floor.  Rex decided he didn’t need it.  He walked across the room to the open door and closed it.  Then he switched the light on.

He was in some sort of study.  There were full book shelves on one side of the room, a large desk at the far end and a leather settee in front of a large thin TV in the corner.  I’ll have that TV for starters, he thought.  After unplugging it, he picked up the TV and carried it to the window.  Then he went over to the desk.  There were three fountain pens, and by their weight and colour could only be solid gold.  He slipped them into his jean jacket pocket.  There was a bronze bust of a woman on the desk.  It looked old so he put it by the window.  Then he went through the drawers of the desk.  He found a little leather case in one drawer, and when he opened it he saw a gold ruby ring.  Also in a drawer he found a glass paper weight with a beautiful pattern in it.  It looked very old.  He put the ring and paper weight into his other pocket.  The books on the book shelves looked old too.  He took six that looked the oldest.  It was time to go.  But where was that dog?

Rex went to the window and by the light shining through it looked out on to the terrace.  No sign of a dog.  He slowly opened the window, poked his head out and looked in both directions.  No sign of a dog.  He climbed through the window and from the other side he leaned through and dragged the TV out, then the bronze bust and finally the six books. 

Suddenly he felt something hit his back, like two poles made of heavy lead.  He was sent flying forward across the terrace.  When he hit the pavement he heard the snarling and felt an intense pain in his right inner thigh.  He looked down and saw the head of a Doberman pinscher between his legs.  Satan had bitten him in the thigh and was holding on.  Rex began to thump the head of Satan, but it was no use, he just bit even harder.  The gun?  It was in the bag that was six feet away.  How could he get to it?  The pain in his thigh was killing Rex.  In desperation he dragged himself towards the bag by his arms.  Satan was now shaking him, making the pain even more intense.  The bag was now in reach. His hand entered the bag and the first thing he grabbed was the crowbar.  With all the power he could muster, he hit Satan over the head with it.  There was a yelp and then Satan was knocked out.  Rex pushed the limp dog off his legs and tried to stand.  It was difficult and very painful, but he managed it.  He put the crowbar into the bag and putting the bag over his shoulder, he headed for the steps.  He was dragging his right leg behind him, but he made progress and soon he was going down the steps.  He left the TV, bust and books behind, there was no way he could carry them now.  How he managed to climb the wall God only knows, but he did and was soon in his car.  With the inside car light on, he looked down at his thigh.  He was scared now; the blood was flowing out profusely.  He had to go to hospital if he wanted any chance of living.  So he started the car and made for the general hospital.  It felt as though he was sat on a heated seat, but knew it was his own warm blood that was providing the heat.

He drove right up to the A&E entrance and walked in through the doors and collapsed.  The doctors and nurses soon took care of him.  He had to have surgery.  They found out about his home and family by his mobile phone and contacted them.  Harold didn’t feel up to visiting, but Carol and his mum did.  They sat by his bedside when he came out of surgery.

“Mum, where am I?” he said, as soon as he opened his eyes and saw his mum.

“You’re in hospital darling.  You’ve had surgery for a dog bite.  You’re all right now.  I drove your car home, so don’t worry about that.  I found your jean jacket on the back seat and the things in it.”

“Did they contact the police?”

“Yes.  They’ll be here soon.  What are you going to tell them?”

“I was walking home when I was attacked by a stray dog.  Hello, Carol, nice of you to come.”

“Just get better quickly you oaf,” joked Carol.

They all laughed.  When visiting time was over, Rex looked around him.  He was on his own, in a clean and spacious room.  He was on a high floor because he could see outside, buildings below him through the window.  There was even a small TV on a metal arm in front of him.  A nurse came in.

“Nurse, when will I be leaving?” he asked.

“Providing there’s no complications, in a few days or so.”

“I feel okay now.  Can I leave now?”

“I wouldn’t advise it.  But you’re free to do what you want.  Anyway, I’ve only come in to tell you that there is a policeman here who wants to ask you questions.  Do you feel up to it?” said the nurse.

“I suppose so.”

The nurse left and in a few seconds a uniformed policeman came in.  He was holding a small notebook and a pen.  “Rex Firth?”

“Yes.”

He stood next to Rex’s bed.  There was a chair but he didn’t bother with it.  “Can you answer a few questions?”

“Of course.”

“How did you sustain your injury?”

“I was walking home and a dog attacked me.”

“And where did this take place?” asked the policeman.

“At the top of my street, Fredy’s street.  When the dog left me, I got into my car and drove here.”

“Can you describe the dog?”

“Yes, it was one of those Bull Terrier things.”

The policeman nodded.  “Yes, we get a lot of complaints about them.  Is there anything else you want to say?”

“No.  I just hope you get the brute before he attacks someone else.”

“We’ll work on it.  Thank you for your time.  Bye,” he said, before walking out the door.

Three days later they discharged him.  He had stitches in the wound and he had to change a dressing every 24 hours.  He got a taxi home.

 

The morning after the burglary, Eddie went outside to sit on the bench.  He sat down and looked over the garden.  Just then something caught the corner of his eye to the right of him.  He turned his head to look and saw a TV, bronze bust and a number of books lying on the terrace beneath an open window.  He got up and went over to investigate.  The window was damaged and there was blood on the pavement.  We’ve been burgled, thought Eddie.  He told Maria, who was cleaning his room, to fetch Edgar who was in the garden.  He agreed with Eddie, they had been burgled.

“Why the blood?” said Eddie.

“Whoever it was must have cut themselves on the glass.  I’ll contact the police,” said Edgar.  “The one thing I don’t understand is why they left these things here.  Why didn’t they take them?”

It was puzzling.  Up in Edgar’s bedroom, lying on the bed and feeling sorry for himself, was Satan.  He was sporting a big bump on his head.

The police came that afternoon.  They dusted for finger prints and Edgar told them what was missing, a gold ruby ring that was an antique and an old paper weight and three gold fountain pens that were also antique.

Francis Rosco freewheeled on his bicycle, the last few yards, to stop by the main gates of Fleece House.  He had cycled three miles and had risked life and limb against blind lorry drivers and speed maniacs in their cars.  He propped up his cycle against the wall and looked at the notice on the gates: ‘BEWARE OF DOG’.  He half expected to see a wolf come running up to the gates, snarling, teeth showing and dripping blood.  He pressed the buzzer a few times and waited.

Maria, who was in the kitchen preparing their lunch, heard the buzzer and wondered who it could be at this time of the morning – eleven thirty.  Lunch was at one and gave them an hour break until two in the afternoon.

Francis liked what he saw when Maria strode down the grey grit driveway towards him.  He could see that she was in the blossom of her life, sexy figure, long black hair and a pretty face.

“Can I help?” she said, when she reached the gates.

“I’ve come in reply to the job advertisement in the newsagent’s window about an assistant gardener.  My name’s Francis Rosco.”

She knew what he was talking about; it was her who had placed the ad under Edgar’s supervision.  She looked at him through the bars and saw what looked like a carefree teenager, a bit too young for her. Questioning his age in her mind, she knew she hadn’t had a sexual relationship with a man for many years.  She didn’t miss it that much; she was kept busy at Fleece House.  Pulling a large key from her apron pocket, she unlocked the gates.  Francis opened it and stepped in. 

“I’m Maria, housekeeper,” she said.

They walked towards the house.  “It is Mr. Blenkensop who wants assistant gardener, Edgar Blenkensop.  He’s in garden at moment.  Do you mind looking him with me, or you want wait in house?”

“I’ll help you look for him,” he said.

“We’ll try greenhouse first.”

Walking down the kitchen garden path, Francis was impressed by the neat rows of well weeded vegetables.  They looked in the large green house, but he wasn’t there.  They tried the big shed where the lawn mower and rotovator etc. was kept, but no sign of him.  They walked to the front garden and soon saw Eddie sat on the terrace. 

“He might near pond.  It’s just through these trees.”  As they walked, Francis looked down at her breasts.  They weren’t overly large, a nice size, and he imagined kissing those dark, soft nipples, rolling them between his lips and even sucking milk from them.  That thought made him smile.  They reached the pond and saw on the other side Edgar lying on the ground.  A wheelbarrow full of earth was just by his side.

“Edgar?  You all right?” called Maria. 

There was no answer, so they rushed round the pond to get to him.  He was still warm and breathing.

“Edgar, you hear me?”  She shook him, but he remained unconscious.   

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