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He stood relaxed behind his securely closed screen door, waiting expectantly for the tall stranger to explain his presence so early in the morning.
'How are you this wonderful, fine morning? Would you be Brian Mussellton?' The Visitor asked pleasantly.
The elderly man of the house nodded his head to acknowledge the veracity of the question. '…...and who might you be and what is it that you want of me? Especially so early in the morning.' He replied somewhat suspiciously.
'You formerly worked at Stellar Engineering in Darwin. NT.' More a statement, not a question.
'Please identify yourself before I answer any more of your questions. If not, then you can go. Now!'
'Umm.....George Bennett.......Formerly of the Northern Territory Police Force. I now work for a Private Investigation Firm........Integral Intelligence Services, Mr Mussellton....'
Not bad off the top of my head , the tall man thought to himself.
'Well, Mister Bennett. Have you some form of identification......and to set the record straight, I've never been to the Territory......though I plan to get up around those parts now that I'm retired....I've hardly been out of this State. I've been in the Public Service all my life and have just recently retired.......I should get to NT and other beautiful parts of this country if my plans for my retirement years work out.......there must be another Brian Mussellton, as good looking as me one would hope with a name like that, whom you seek......' This said with a smile on his face.
That was the last words that the man ever uttered. Pleasant and comical as they were!
He was shot twice through the chest at point blank range with a 9 millimetre Pistol. The force of which threw him backwards up the Hallway of his modest double fronted, double garage, brick veneer home of forty years.
The Shooter stood momentarily at the door watching the pool of blood enlarge to soak the timber flooring of the narrow entry Hall. He glanced at the neatly made holes in the insect screen as the bullets had torn through the flimsy material of the screen door.
A scream of utter anguish and terror bought him back to the present.
He slipped the pistol into its holster under his arm as he walked quickly from the property.
He thought absently to himself of how predictable and silly people were. If he had asked his 'target' straight out was he Brian Mussellton who had recently retired after a life-time in the Public Service, the chap would have gone on the defensive straight away and not furnished the details that he had, in order for the Shooter to be able to positively identify his man. This was insurance as the photo that he had been given of his quarry was grainy and blurred. Obviously taken from a great distance and in somewhat of a hurry!
Silly. That's how he viewed the general populace! Just plain stupid and too trusting.
He slid into the driver's seat and started up the car as he noticed several people pointing their smart phones towards him. People still in their night attire, bought out onto their front porches and driveways by the unmistakeable sound of two shots; one straight after the other reverberating around the quiet street in the brisk morning air.
A foreign sound to many.
He would abandon this vehicle within five minutes, only a couple of blocks from here. He'd also discard the hat, the wig, the false 'mo' and glasses and the business coat and tie.
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