Year 7s were asked to write a crime short story. Deepa Rajesh went above and beyond and created this masterpiece!
London was booming and the streets were full. Everyone was oblivious to what was going to happen. Too wrapped up in their own petty affairs. If you walked across the inner city, then you would find a smallish man begging for money just opposite Dorlity’s Money Bank. The lightning struck and the thunder answered. It was going to be a stormy night. He threw on his scarf and waited for someone to offer him alms. He was decidedly underdressed for a November morning. It would only get colder from here but he insisted on wearing summer-time clothing. This man might have caught your eye or you may just feel sorry for him. If you lingered around for a bit, you would see something rather curious. That same begging man. He sat with a grey cloth covering him. This helped conceal his 3 piece white suit. Tucking his Rolex watch up his sleeve, he accepted a one pound piece. Now, it is important you know this man’s backstory before you start to judge him. He does it for the best reasons.
Micheal lived in an orphanage He was left there as a child. It was a grand building with vast grey pillars and smooth marble tiles. The person who ran the orphanage was a kind young lady called Mrs Amesdale. No-one knew her real name and no-one wanted to know. She did so much that it was best not to bother her. He called Micheal Micheal and cared for him as though he were her own son. There were other kids in the orphanage who preferred to go by their own nicknames. They all became fast friends when they met.
“‘Ello ‘ello ‘ello,” said a new boy to Micheal, “My name's Fingers. They calls me that cos of me-” He held up his hands. On the ends were slim, towering fingers. Micheal was fascinated by them. Not long after Fingers joined, two others came.
“I’m Big Tim.” stammered a very tall boy to Micheal. Surprisingly for a boy of his strength, he seemed rather shy.
“Hi. My name’s J.” exclaimed a short, head-strong boy. He did not look like someone you would mess with. Soon, another boy came. His name was Camo because he could paint himself into anything. His parents were fashion designers so he had some fabric in his rucksack. As soon as Micheal saw it, he started making it into a costume. That, with some added makeup provided by Mrs Amesdale, made him look just like a ghost. J showed them all how to pick locks and could make the most wondrous inventions. Big Tim had strength. Fingers could take the coat off someone’s back and have them not notice. All his friends had special skills. What was his?
One day, when the boys were nearly fully grown up, a man came to the door. He said he needed to collect the rent for the building. Mrs Amesdale had to tell him that they owned the building. The man showed her some papers with her signature saying that she sold it. They apparently agreed that they would live there on rent. Mrs Amesdale said that the signature was forged and threatened to take them to court. The man tried to calm her down and ushered her into a room to sit down. The boys were upstairs and listening to the conversation. First they heard the door close. Then the bullet. They ran downstairs but they were too late. The man had gone and Mrs Amesdale was dead. They called the police who accused them of murder and said that this ‘man’ didn’t exist. So they ran. They ran and they ran far, far away. They took money, their belongings and memories. They attended the funeral of their beloved Mrs Amesdale. Tears in his eyes, Micheal approached Mrs Amesdale’s grave and placed a wreath on it, disappearing as swiftly as he arrived. He swore that he wouldn’t give up without a fight. Fingers said that the logo on the agreement sheet was from Dortily’s Money Bank. 20 years later, they would still stop them.
When no-one was looking, the beggar threw off his blanket and walked with his nose in the air to the old abandoned orphanage. This place had become known as Base to him and his friends. He showed what he had gathered in his cup. £2.63. They had plenty of money of course, but needed more.
“How else are we going to Dorlity?” moaned a boy with a uniform on. His nametag read ‘J’. They gathered around the table.
“It’s ok. I know how to get some money.” said the man in the suit.
“How, Micheal, how?” groaned J
“Jody’s Jewel House just put up a new display.” A blank expression crossed J’s face.
“A display of jewels, J! Jewels! That would be enough to fund our plans and buy us all a one way ticket to Spain.”
“Let’s ask Big Tim, Fingers and Camo first.” J suggested doubtfully. They all, unsurprisingly, agreed with Micheal. He explained how they were to do it. Camo was to be decoy for them. They would all be in and out in 5 minutes tops. Seeing Camo’s frightened face, Micheal suggested waiting with him in the car. An expression of relief crossed Camo’s pale face. They all knew the plan, now. All they had to do was execute it.
As Camo pulled up their small brown Mini, he checked that everyone had their disguises. “Masks. Check. Black sweaters. Check. Bag. Bag?” All eyes turned to Fingers. “Don’t tell me you forgot the bag!”
“Gotcha!” said Fingers producing the bag from his pocket.
“Don’t do that. Ok be careful everyone. The guards will change their positions in 3...2… and 1, go, go, go!”
They jumped out leaving Micheal and Camo in the car. J picked the lock and he, Big Tim and Fingers, entered. Big Tim took out the guards in one fell swoop from above and Fingers bagged the jewels. Then, they left. Or rather, they tried. One by one, the guards started filing in.
“Step aside…” said Big Tim cracking his neck.
Meanwhile, Micheal saw the police approach. No, no, no! They couldn’t ruin the plan. He heard the sound of sirens all around him. They were surrounded. Leaving Camo, Micheal created a distraction. Danger lurked everywhere. Two men were staring at them from behind, three in front and one on the left. Micheal could only hear the blood pounding in his ears. He ran to the market and jumped on top of a stall. He leaped up to the roof of Cally’s Car shop. A man came up from behind him. Micheal leaned backwards and threw the man in front of him with one quick move. But, there were too many. Micheal had to go back to the car and warn Camo. Camo had huddled himself into a ball under the steering wheel. At the sight of him, Micheal knew he had to turn himself in. Without warning, Camo jumped out of the car and pushed Micheal into the shadows and out of the way and gave himself up. Micheal limped away. He was pretty banged up, physically and mentally. The last thing he saw of his friend was him on his knees and the bullet going through the back of his head. The rest of the team hadn’t witnessed this but realised they might put their friends in danger by going to them. They went straight back to Base. When Micheal returned without Camo, they all bowed their heads in respect. Micheal said a prayer and told the others that they don’t need to stay. Lying through his teeth, he told them he could do it on his own. First it was J then Fingers and Big Tim followed. They gave Micheal something that he hadn’t had in a long time. Something that made him feel happy and sad at the same time. A hug. That one action of compassion lit some kind of fire behind Micheal’s eyes. His flame of determination had gone out only to be relit and stronger than ever.
“We- we are going to take Dorlity-” he paused to spit, “DOWN!”
A cheer went up. They were going to do it. For Mrs Amesdale. And for Camo.
“Got any ideas, cap’n?” asked Fingers with a glint in his eye.
“Yes,” replied Micheal, firmer than ever, “Yes I do.”
“It’s the big one.” Micheal said into his earpiece, “If anyone wants out, now is the time. No questions asked, no grudges held.”
Of course, Micheal’s team were loyal and wanted to stay every step of the way. Suddenly, a noise went off. A familiar noise The alarms at the Dorlity’s Money Bank. They’d been tripped! In minutes the police were on the scene of the crime. Then… they struck. Fingers and J jumped onto a truck of money and held on for dear life. Micheal was feeding them information through their ears and his team knew that he knew what they were doing. Then, the truck screeched to a halt and the people on top lurched forward. Was this the end? Were they going to be apprehended by the police? Micheal to follow? The answer is...no. Fingers was clutching the front of the truck with his fingers and just caught J by the ankles.
“Thanks.” said J
“Any time!” grinned Fingers
Meanwhile, Micheal was conversing with them through their ears about where to go. Big Tim was his eyes. J and Fingers moved stealthily past the door. First stop: the uniform room. They picked up two pairs and slipped them over their own overclothes.
“Looking lovely as ever.”
“Why, fank you me dear!”
Next stop: the vault. None of them, but Micheal, knew what was in the vault. When they reached it, they saw that there were multiple guards. Acting on instinct, J whipped out his phone and showed Fingers something.
“Play this.” he said vaguely indicating what to press, “I’ll distract them, you go.”
FIngers agreed and pressed the first button he saw. Suddenly, loud, pop music was blaring out of the phone’s speaker. J was already out there and had to say something.
“I told you to play the alarm!” he hissed under his breath to a confused Fingers. To the guards he said casually, “Hey there. Did you know that this song is our new ‘security meeting’ alarm. Crazy, innit?”
“What’s with the accent?” asked a bemused Fingers.
“Just go with it!” replied J in a low voice.
“Huh? Yeah. We gots to report to the front. I’se yer replacement ‘till you’se come back.”
The startled guards decided to go with it, but took J with them.
What do I do??? Mouthed J
Fingers shrugged in an ‘Idunnomate’ way. So J went with the guards.
“Don’t say much, do ya?” joked J. They glared at him.
Fingers stood in front of the vault for a few seconds until they’d left.
“Camera’s?” He questioned into his earpiece.
“Video loop on. You’re free to move.”
“Good,” replied Fingers, “Cuz I’M REALLY FREAKING OUT HERE!”
“Don’t worry, Fingers,” said Micheal calmly, “You just need to get in the vault, download the data and send it to me. Check your pocket.”
Fingers obediently slipped his fingers into his pocket and pulled out a stethoscope.
“Your pockets are so big I could fit it.” Fingers still looked confused and said as much.
“Look, Fingers, you can do this yourself. J taught us how to do this. He knew that you could do it so left you. Now it’s your time to shine. What do you say.”
“‘Kay, if ya say so, Mikey.”
He started trying to crack the code. Tick, tick, tick, click!
“I- I- I cracked it!” exclaimed Fingers ecstatically.
“HURRAY!” Micheal and Big Tim. They’d done it!
“Okay we only have about 5 minutes until the guards realise that J was lying. J... I couldn’t save Camo and now J’s gonna-” his voice cracked. Big Tim consoled him.
“‘S gunna be okay, Mikey. I’se gunna do it, we’se gunna get out, the world’s gunna be cupcakes and rainbows.”
This cheered Micheal up. He smoothed down his crisp, white shirt and closed his eyes. I can do this. I can do this. I can do this. He took a deep breath. “I can do this.” He whispered to himself, barely audible.
“Ok... I’m jus’ gunna go inside.” Fingers said. He swiftly navigated his way through the vault. He looked behind a wall. Taking in a short, sharp breath, he told Micheal what he saw.
“Yeah, ‘s wot I said.”
“Okay, Fingers find the hard drive quick and then get straight out of there.”
Fingers dug around a few of the bodies, holding his nose.
“Found it!” he said, downloading it onto his laptop he kept in his pocket, “Under a Mister John Darvigle.”
“What? How do you know that?”
“On this fingy there’s the names, pics an’ descriptions of all these people. It says how and why they died. Hmmmm... Murder. Murder. Murder. Mur- they’se all murders!”
“This is great! I mean it’s terrible how many people have been killed but with this information, we could get Dorlity’s Money Bank closed for good! Send them to me.”
“Alrighty then, guv. Sending... sent. You’se got it? Good. Don’t wanna spend more time in ‘ere than I ‘ave to. Leaving... Uhhh... Mikey? We’se been compromised. Pleasure meeting ya. Biggie too.” and with that Fingers gave himself up. He broke his computer so they couldn’t trace his emails and went like Camo and J had.
“What? Fingers? Speak to me! Fingers?” Tears pricked Micheal’s eyes. How many people had he killed indirectly. Camo, J, Fingers. Micheal simply fell on the floor. He cut his leg on some glass but didn’t react. So this was how it was gonna end. His team dead in the hands of the police and him dying of infection.
“Not everyone.” said a warm, comforting voice. Big Tim!
“Got nowhere to go. Not without you.”
Big Tim helped him up. Micheal had a bad cut on his right leg. Big Tim carried him back to Base. The police were outside. They knocked on the door. All Big Tim could do was dress and treat the wound, pack Micheals bag and give him a plane ticket to Spain. Micheal tried to protest but Big Tim just smiled and let him out the back door. This time, Micheal didn’t wait to watch his friend die at the hands of the police. He kept his head held high and ran to the airport.
Of course, the police were smart enough to realise he went to Spain. There were two other tickets on the table. They hunted him down but were never able to find him. Micheal spoke Spanish fluently and was able to get a room in my lodging house, The Runaway’s Resort. When I asked him for his rent, he simply produced a journal. It was filled to the brim with notes and his life story. Big Tim, J, Fingers, Camo. Mrs Amesdale. I read it thoroughly and decided not to ask for his money. I re-wrote this story and hoped that one day someone could understand his pain and grief.
Of Mice and Men, Curley's Wife by Summer Davey:
I turned and faced the mirror to brush my silky soft hair and touch up my red lipstick and then I turned for the door. When I got to the Dance Palace there were big grand doors with two men in black suits standing intimidatingly in front of them. As I got closer they looked me up and down, one looked at the other and winked then the doors opened and I felt like a princess when I walked into the room. It was filled with people and beautiful dresses and food and drinks piled high on every table. It would have been anyone's dream to live in this place; I had to pinch myself to remind myself I was really here.
After a little bit of socialising, some champagne and dancing to my favourite song, everyone started to gather around in a circle. People became self conscious and asked if they looked ok. The men in the suits were telling people to move. I stared at the door. I thought, who might be coming through this door? Could this be my happily ever after, my dream?
Excited screaming suddenly filled the hall as the doors opened and a man walked in. People started to cheer and clap. He walked past me, looked me up and down and smirked. My heart stopped. I couldn’t believe that just happened- he looked at me! He smirked, turned back and looked at me. When our eyes met he cocked his head to one side and one of his eyebrows raised ever so slightly.
He nodded his head to the balcony, gesturing for me to follow, so I walked behind him and as we walked to the balcony he said “Are you interested in performing?” I said without hesitation, “I would love to, it has always been my dream to perform! I would love to be in the pictures!” He said “You look like a natural. I will send you a letter so you can come perform with me.” I looked at him and blushed red and hot. He said “what do you say”? I said yes I shouted “yes”! I would love that I could not handle the excitement and I was so happy I just wanted to sleep till the letter came to my front door. I was so excited I couldn’t stay a moment longer and headed home.
When I got home I slipped out of the dress and got into the bath. I had a nice warm bath, washed my hair then thought about what was going to happen. When was the letter coming? What was my old lady going to say? I decided not to tell her that I met him or anything about the letter. I got into bed and had an amazing dream. My dream was I got the letter and I got in a limo and he brought me to the pictures; he held my hand as we walked up to the front doors and stepped on to the stage- I was the star of it all!
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English WorkYear 7s were asked to write a crime short story. Deepa Rajesh went above and beyond and created this masterpiece! London was booming and the streets were full. Everyone was oblivious to what was going to happen. Too wrapped up in their own petty affairs. If you walked across the inner city, then...Read full story
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