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 Post subject: THE FRAUDSTER
PostPosted: Sun Feb 20, 2022 4:07 pm 
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Joined: Wed Jun 09, 2021 5:20 pm
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THE FRAUDSTER!

Jim Morrison woke early on that morning, it was still dark. Hopping out of bed he made his way to the bathroom, then to the kitchen. He put the kettle on and while it was boiling he strapped on his prosthetic left foot, well have you ever tried hopping with a scalding cup of coffee in your hand? Strange how he still felt sensations in his foot when in reality it was disintegrated in a field somewhere in Afghanistan, yet he felt an irresistible urge to scratch it.
Still, life was about as good as it could be, his purpose built bungalow served as the base for his private investigation business. He noticed a message had come through on his answering machine, pressing play a familiar voice crackled from the machine Tom another ex serviceman who made his living debt collecting for many businesses.

“Jim, I’ve got one for you, a slippery character called Sammy ‘the snake’ Mchugh. He’s been running around, getting money from all different sources. Some of them are a bit suspect if you know what I mean and they have all contacted me to try and trace him. If you decide to take him on, I’ll split the reward fifty-fifty with you, it’s ten percent of the recovered debts. So far we think he has about five hundred K.”

Jim wasted no time, and headed down town to start his search, starting at the ‘Shakespeare’ in the lower end of the high street. He had contacts in all the pubs, usually the landlord who would readily impart information to him on any ne’er do well, which they wouldn’t ever tell the police.
By the sixth or seventh call he had discovered that Sammy was a ‘Jack the lad’ in the area, who would sell his own grandmother for the price of a pint. Just lately he had seemed to come into a substantial amount of money, had bought a flashy merc and was living in a luxury flat in the town.

Now all Jim had to do was find him.

Cambray Court was a huge residential complex, in the centre of town. A secure entrance with a Commissionaire at the desk inside, whose job it was to ensure that everyone who came to visit was ‘bona fide’ if not they did not get in. Jim decided to gain entry some other way. Wandering around the car park he spied three mercs, one of which seemed to fit the bill. It had lots of chrome, a drop head coupe, and sufficiently gauche for the ‘nouveau riche’ Sammy the snake.

After what seemed a lifetime, a slightly built man, short hair, with rodent like features came out of the building walking very quickly and headed for the merc. Got him!

The merc drove out of the complex, Jim had all the information that he needed, now to make a plan.

The next morning a workman in smart overalls was working in the car park at Cambray Court, raising the drain covers and cleaning the debris.
The flashy merc wasn’t there. After an hour or so and many drains cleared twice, it drove in. Jim waited until Sammy was just about to enter the building, then he approached.
“Scuse me mate, what flat are you?”
Sammy looked a bit flustered.
“306 Why?”
“Well there’s a blockage in the drainage system and I need to check the free flow of water from the roof drains. As you are on the top floor you could let me have access to the inspection cover.”
Sammy entered the code and the door opened, Jim went with him to the lift. Exiting on the third floor, Sammy indicated the roof access.
“That’s what you want mate”
“No I want you!!” Jim grabbed Sammy’s arm and twisted it up his back, marching him to the front door. “Get it open”
Sammy realised that physically he was no match for his opponent he put the key into the lock. As the door opened he squeezed through and wrenched his arm free. Slamming the door as hard as he could, hoping to shut Jim out. Unfortunately for him Jim had put his left foot in the door and when it met the solid prosthetic it rebounded, catching Sammy on the side of his head. He fell to the floor out cold.
Jim went in and started to search the flat for evidence. In the wardrobe there was a suitcase. Opening it he drew a sharp intake of breath as he surveyed cash. Packed neatly in thousand pound wads he could plainly see that there was far in excess of the five hundred K that he had been told.
Thinking quickly, he picked up the suitcase, stepping over the comatose body in the hallway, he stopped to take the keys for the car out of the front door.
“Might as well” he said as he headed for the lift.
Getting into the plush motor he proceeded to “Joyride” in the lovely sunshine he went past his bungalow laughing to himself.
“Don’t need that life anymore”
So there he was instead of a payday of twenty five thousand, he had at least several hundred thousand plus a car and nobody was going to report it.
“Fraud isn’t that bad is it?” he thought “especially when you take it off the fraudster.”

He took the road to London and a new life.


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