1877. The time had come
© Bruce Goodman 15 July 2020
Murder was what drove Jephthah on relentlessly. The thrill of a murder was exciting enough to last several years, but once such a thrill had worn thin Jephthah would select another victim.|
The last victim had been a little old lady who was in a back street looking for her cat. Jephthah had offered to help, and when she turned her back he smashed her over the head with the weapon. What the weapon was perplexed the police. They discovered neither the weapon nor the murderer.
It didn’t greatly matter to Jephthah who it was got killed. It was the act of murder that caused the delight. So far, over the years, he had done five people in. The gap between each victim was getting shorter. Clearly the gusto these days didn’t last as long. Indeed! The time had come! Jephthah seized his umbrella that disguised a heavy metal pipe and set out.
He had to find a lone person in a back alley; preferably a person who was utterly pleasant and happy to stop and chat a little. There’s a little old lady now! Ah! She’s looking for her cat. Same as last time. That would be boring.
There’s a man dressed in a suit and carrying a briefcase. He looks like a lawyer. Now, that could be thrilling!
“Nice day,” said Jephthah.
“Isn’t it,” said the lawyer.
They got talking. The awful thing was that Jephthah couldn’t get the man to turn his back so he could strike him over the head. So Jephthah decided to walk away in search of another.
That was when the “lawyer” walloped a massive blow on the back of Jephthah’s head. What the weapon was perplexed the police. They discovered neither the weapon nor the murderer.
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