“Hello, who’s calling please?””
“It’s Morticia, I am at the station. You can pick me up.”
This was puzzling. I do not know anyone with the name of Morticia and I was certainly not expecting to pick her up.
“Are you sure you have the correct number. I don’t think we know each other.”
“The number I have is ZX 24678.”
That is correct, that is my number. Who gave you the number?”
“I got it from a mutual friend of ours. He said to mention this number and that I have the goods with me in three different sizes. I am in a telephone box at the station in Little Huntingdon. The weather is getting worse, I think there is a storm coming. I will take shelter under the large oak tree opposite the station.”
“No stay where you are, I will come and fetch you.”
“I think it is already too late. There is a car approaching with tinted windows. And …….”
It was then that I heard the noise of glass breaking and bullets rebounding on the metal casing of the phone box, mixed with screams from Morticia. Poor Morticia: she did everything right. The code words suited, even the weather report – although it was a hot summer day and no sign of a storm. Just words invented to make sure I picked up the right person.
I decided to take the emergency escape If they had traced Morticia, they would soon be following. I ran out of the house and jumped in the car. The best method of defence was attack, so I drove to the station. I knew they wouldn’t hang around after killing her.
I could hear police cars in the distance. I saw the telephone box, Morticia’s lifeless body was laying in a pool of blood on the ground, three torn packages were laying at her side. I decided to have a quick look before the police arrived. That was my mistake. The brutes were still waiting, hidden behind the old oak tree.
“And you expect us to belive your story, Mrs. Relf?” said the police superintendent . You shot three innocent men point blank and an old lady in a telephone box all because you received a call on your telephone with special code words. I now place you under arrest for murder.”
So I am now writing these words in the local asylum. They said this time I would not be set free. My mental state had not improved as they thought, and I had started hearing things. I am not even allowed to have a telephone in my room. They found I fantasize too much, like hearing it ring when it is not connected. They just do not believe me and I am sure they are coming to get me. I can hear a phone ringing outside my room. They are coming to get me – aha.