Mrs. Churchill refilled her son’s cup.
Allen was sitting at the kitchen table drinking tea and pondering on the events of the day. He had been annoyed when his brother, Rod had told him he would leave him to pull down the old double bed and take it to the tip. The tipper was already overloaded and Allen was exhausted but he didn’t get time to argue. Rod took off in the van with a load of antique furniture and their offsider, Garry.
The bed looked huge. The mattress was heavy and even though he was a young six foot, rugby player when he wasn’t working in the family business it was all he could do to get it in the truck. The wood and wire base wasn’t much better but then he discovered the rest of the old bed was in four parts and was no problem. At first the thing behind escaped his notice but when he removed the bed head something fell to the floor. At the time he had his hands full and it wasn’t until he returned to clean up that he found the gun. He thought it would be worth money but he knew it had to be turned into the police. He put it under the seat of the tipper.
First he might check out what it was worth. Then he would probably turn it in. He had never been interested in guns.
The next day he had to pick up a load from a building site. The boss on the site ordered the men to load the tip truck and took Allen into his office for a cup of coffee. “Couldn’t believe my eyes, Allen Churchill, you play for the blues,” he said.
Allen laughed. “That’s what I do for fun; this is what I do to keep food on the family table.”
“Well you’ll get plenty of work from me if you want it. I can’t get enough good men.”
They heard a scuffle in the yard and when they went outside the two men loading the truck had disappeared.
It was much later that day when Allen discovered the gun was missing.
He decided that everything happened for the best, if someone took the gun it would probably be to sell so he decided to forget it. If it was two men they wouldn’t get much for their trouble.
A well know rugby union player called Jason Moss was shot dead in a drive by shooting outside a city nightclub.
Allen Churchill was taken in for questioning. It made the front page of the evening newspapers. His mother was in shock. Allen had never used a gun. How on Earth could his finger prints be found on a murder weapon?
The Evening News had produced pictures with Allen and the murdered man fighting and Allen being sent out for three weeks over the incident.
Allen couldn’t prove his story about the gun being stolen from the tipper. The men at the building site said they saw the gun but denied taking it.
“We left it where it was,” they insisted.
He was soon released as they didn’t have enough evidence to hold him.
“They can’t prove you had anything to do with it,” said Rod.
“Well he didn’t,” said Garry the young man who helped in the business.
“No, but I can’t prove that I didn’t. My reputation is ruined. They won’t have me in the team.”
“No, we weren’t going to say anything but you’re right. They don’t think you’re guilty but it brings the club into disrepute.”
“Oh so they’ve called have they?” asked Allen.
“Yes the coach called in to see mum,” answered Rod.
A few days later Allen got the news that the club was canceling his contract. That wasn’t all, he couldn’t get in touch with his girlfriend, she wouldn’t talk to him and her mother was taking her overseas for a holiday.
Continued in my book Murder and other Crime Stories.