A sudden breeze tugs at Joey’s wet clothes and as a small dark cloud covers the moon Joey lifts the gun and fires at the silhouette of the first wounded gunman who appears behind the detective – gun pointed at the detective’s head.
The detective fires simultaneously at Joey, who dives to his right and rolls down a slight incline, as the gunman tumbles down to land at the detective’s feet. He stares down at the body in shocked disbelief. He looks up to find Joey gone.
It is 10.30 when Joey gets home. Bone tired, he brushes past Janey and throws himself down on his son’s bed and almost immediately begins to snore. Janey looks at him in disgust.
Just before midnight there is a knock at the door and Janey answers to find the detective standing there. The sight of him takes her breath away.
“Is there something wrong, Detective?” she stutters.
“Can I speak to Mr Figaro Ma’am?”
Janey shouts Joey’s name but there’s no response. She hurries to the room and pummels Joey awake.
Joey groans in despair as he stares at his wife with blurry eyes. “Janey please …” he pleads with her.
“It’s the police Joey,” she says, her voice quivering.
He looks into her frightened eyes and gives her a brief hug, casts a last glance round his home, before stepping out to meet the cop. He moves slowly, dragging his feet, his head bowed down in despair.
He stops before the Detective, who stands with his left hand behind his back. Joey locks eyes with him, waiting for the handcuffs to appear, while Janey looks at him with tears rolling down her cheeks.
The detective digs in his pocket and comes up with a screwdriver and hands it to Joey, saying: “Thanks for your help Mr Figaro, but you left your screwdriver behind and I thought I’ll return it … just in case you might need it again.”
Bewildered, Joey stares at the shiny bright screwdriver. From behind his back the detective produces a bunch of roses and hands it to Janey. “For you Mrs Figaro, fresh out of my garden,” he says. “You’ve got a good man here Mrs Figaro. And you must get a good night’s sleep Mr Figaro,” he adds, before heading back to his car.
“What a nice gesture,” Janey gushes and pushes the roses under Joey’s nose. “Smell the roses Joey,” she says, and Joey smells the roses.
*****
Tell us what you think: Has justice been served, even though nothing goes to court? Is this just ‘an ordinary day’ where gangs rule?
