A FAIR COP

Pulled his head back by the hair and fired two more shots into his face making sure he was dead. I’d been told to kill him by the Suit in the seat next to him because he said too much.
I followed another gunman up the stairs between the rows of people and out the auditorium. We moved quickly along the corridors, past people coming out of doors and others walking on their own or in groups carrying books under arms and bags over shoulders.
We stopped.
‘Would it be easier together or alone?’ I asked my friend who wore a red tracksuit top.
‘I don’t know,’ he said, ‘but we have to get out quickly they’re going to be here soon.’
We split up.
I walked out of double doors into the night, reached a car parked had a back door open, a man sitting in the front, behind him a young boy in a child seat I sat next to.
‘Take me away,’ I said to the man.
‘I can’t, not with the child in the back.’
‘Okay,’ I said, took an apple from the food hamper, had a bite said, ‘thanks,’ and got out the car.
Stood thinking which way to go and that I needed some clothes. Walked across open ground, my feet bare, met a woman gave me a blanket I put round my shoulders.
Got to town saw a multi-storey car park closed but with a staircase I could reach by climbing a wooden frame fixed to the nearest corner.
I’d worked my way inside of the frame was about ten twelve metres high when a group of men walked past on the pavement below. The last man passing looked up saw me stopped walked back called to the others pointed and said, ‘there he is.’ I held my hands up, ‘it’s a fair cop.’
As they led me away I held my hands out in front of me wanting them to cuff me, not trusting they wouldn’t say later they’d shot me when I tried to escape.
My lawyer, a small balding man with glasses, followed after saying, ‘where you taking him? I have a right to know.’