Teamwork

Teamwork

“On dee second thought, how 'bout we make new deal? Pay me ten bucks, I keep lookout, you keel Ronald. Why should I have all dee fun?”

Sterling thought the new plan over . . . for almost two seconds. “Now I owe you thirty dollars.”

“That's not thee way . . .you right, Meester Sterling. You queek adder.”

“No names, Chico.”

“Sorry, Chico forgeet.”

< < ^ > >

Sterling looked around his hospital room for a weapon. Every possibility he saw, he dismissed; whatever he considered he rejected.

He thought, I've never killed anyone. Ronald killed Trudy. I saw him shoot her. So did Floyd, the teller. I saw her slump to the floor. I thought she was dead. I didn't know for certain. If she's alive, it's only attempted murder. There again, not by me.

I shot Ronald, but that was in self defense. He had a loaded gun. The ambulance siren distracted me. I missed his heart. Maybe I'm just not a killer. At least not with a gun.

This time I'll use a pillow case. Strangle him with it. No finger prints. They'll think he died in his sleep. Wait. That won't work. With my left hand all bandaged up, it would be impossible to kill him. The slightest touch causes me tremendous pain.

Sterling continued searching for a weapon. He picked up the TV remote, examined it and put it down. He looked elsewhere. Then his gaze returned to the remote. He picked it up again and opened the battery cover. This is useless, unless I batteried Ronald to death. I wonder if that's where the term, 'assault and battery,' came from.

Hmm. This cover has a sharp edge to it. If held like a knife, it becomes a one. Rose Anne cut me with a piece of glass. This piece of plastic is similar. I can see it happening. I plunge it into Ronald's windpipe with all my might. Ronald exhales through the porthole in his neck with the words he struggles to scream not forthcoming.

< < ^ > >

I must kill Ronald now, because as soon as he's able, he'll tell the cops I did it. That I blackmailed him to hold up the bank, that I blackmailed Trudy to go along with the plan. Her main function was to make sure the gun was on top of the money in the bag and to not act suspicious.

< < ^ > >

Sterling followed Chico to the door. Chico stuck his head out . . .

“Is the coast clear?”

“I don't know about dee coast, but hallway eez clear.”

< < ^ > >

There were two beds in Ronald's room. He was in the bed on the right. The bed on the left was empty, except for a pillow. Sheets extended to the floor, on both sides and the bottom of the bed.

< < ^ > >

It was barely enough light to see in the room. No sense wasting time looking for Ronald's street clothes. They're probably covered in blood anyway.

Sterling could make out the shape of a sleeping body, snoring lightly. He disconnected the tubing leading to Ronald's forearms. That alone might be enough to kill him, but I need to be sure.

< < ^ > >

I did it. I killed him. And I thought I couldn't kill anyone. I think I killed him twice. First, with the pillow from the other bed. There's no doubt. He never moved. I smothered him, then I stabbed him with the remote cover.

The whole time, he never moved.

He slept through it. How dare he sleep through my killing him! I demand recognition.