Debbie

Temple had fought at Anzio and up through Italy into Germany. He had seen men die from explosions and bullets. He had been wounded twice. However, none of this had prepared him for the shock of seeing Cantwell and his wife shot down in front of him.

He caught sight of the figure fleeing down the alley and after shouting to his next door neighbour to take care of Cantwell and Debbie, he ran at speed after the man.

Willis, realising the implications of what he had done and with adrenalin flowing, ran as he had never run before. He had left a hired car at the far end of the alley but knew that Temple would be on him before he could start the engine. He raced to the end of the alley then, without considering where he was going, turned left into another street. This was wider and tree lined. He dodged between the trees then seeing a car drive out from a driveway, he slipped behind the fence - Like as not the house was empty. He edged his way along a tall thick privet hedge until he gained the shelter of a brick built garage. There he sat down on the ground re-loading the Browning.

Temple got to the end of the alley, he also turned left. The street was deserted save for a car driving slowly passed. Temple waved for it to stop. The driver halted jerkily.

"Seen anyone running down the road?"

"No, no one at all. Should I have?"

"There's been a police incident and we thought the man had come this way."

"Sorry, old chap, can't help, seen no one, like I said. Anything I can do?" Temple shook his head. He watched the car move away. He knew he had lost the man. He returned to the scene of the shooting. An ambulance had taken both Cantwell and his wife to the hospital. Two police cars, lights flashing were outside his flat, neighbours were gesturing and talking loudly. There was a general commotion.

Truscott saw him first and rushed to him: "Gov, whatever happened? What's been going on?"

Temple told him what little he'd been able to see from the doorway. He told Truscott to radio to the station the description of the man and the rough direction in which he had disappeared.

Whilst Truscott was doing this, he went over to the car. A pool of blood was on the well of the passenger seat. Pathetically, a blood-stained magazine lay on the driver's seat. A picture of a pretty young housewife proudly holding a white shirt in one hand and a box of Persil in the other was now spattered with blood drops.

Temple backed out. A sudden surge of rage came over him. He decided it was time to go to the station.

Disaster Strikes

That evening, Cantwell took Debbie in the car to Temple's flat. He reassured her that he would only take about a quarter of an hour, he had no real news to report. Then, they would drive out to the Saddler's Arms for a drink and a pasty and chips. Debbie smiled and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

"Alright, Tom, you take your time. I've brought a magazine to read. It'll keep me occupied."

She watched him walk up the garden path that Temple shared with the ground floor flat. She turned to reach for the magazine lying on the back seat. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of a tall man in a dark duffle coat standing on the opposite side of the street. She thought nothing of it. Eagerly, she turned to the latest copy of 'My Home'. She admired the woman on the front cover - hair peroxided and sleek, full red skirt and matching lipstick. She decided that the next time she went to the hairdressers, she would take a copy of the magazine and ask for her hair to be styled like this. She turned to the fashion pages and became engrossed.

True to his word, Cantwell emerged from Temple's front door after almost exactly fifteen minutes. They had very little information to exchange and Temple did not want to detain Cantwell and his wife from their evening out.

***************

Willis placed himself away from the lamp-post in case the light came on. He glanced at his watch, still some ten minutes before lighting up but in these backwoods, you could never be sure. He checked the car number plate against what Redbourne had given him. It matched with the car parked opposite him. The woman must be one of Temple's floozies, he guessed. He could not exactly recall what Temple looked like. This was his car and this was where Redbourne said he lived. Thus, the man now walking towards the car must be Temple.

Scarcely bothering to take aim because the road was narrow and the target directly in front of him, Willis fired three shots in rapid succession. The first hit its mark but he was distracted by the figure of a tall well built man appearing in the doorway of the house. The final two shots hit the side window of the passenger side of the car.

Too late, Willis realised his mistake. He heard the woman scream and he backed away into a small alley leading off the street. Then, he ran at speed to where he was not sure.

Temple later said he saw everything in slow motion. He heard the shots, saw Cantwell fall and watched as Debbie slumped forward against the dashboard.

Neighbours from all sides came running towards him. He yelled for them to call an ambulance and the police. His heart sank as he reached Cantwell's still form and he saw Debbie's head crimson with blood.