The Chess Set

Chapter 3

Billy was cold and tired and hurting, sitting in the London park. It had been more than a day since his last fix. He needed to get some money soon, or he would die. Well, he knew that he probably wouldn´t actually die, but with every cell of his body screaming out in pain, the distinction didn´t really matter.

From a public telephone, he called his dealer. That done, Billy again took a seat on a park bench, eyeing the passersby for an easy mark. It wasn´t as if he was some kind of hood, he told himself. He didn´t particularly enjoy robbing people. But `desperate times´ and all that. It wasn´t his fault that he had to have the drug - that his body needed the chemical bliss that only it could provide. He was just doing what was he had to. That was all.

He´d done robbery twice, both times coming away with money. Nobody had been hurt. Billy had liberated enough funds for his fix, and his targets had an exciting tale to tell their friends. It was a fair enough trade, he figured.

It was a cold day, and the cold made the pain of his withdrawal acute. Billy grew more edgy with each passing minute on the chilly park bench, huddled in his thin jacket. His senses were heightened in his current state. He could almost scent his prey as people hurried hither and thither through the park, hunched and bundled against the cold. It wouldn´t be long now.

Billy noticed a woman passing by with a handbag. He couldn´t wait. She would be the one, he decided. He imagined that he could smell the fresh pound notes inside her purse. Fifty paces behind, and walking fast to catch up, he looked around carefully for witnesses. There were none. Thirty paces behind, he could see that her hair was blonde and curled under the cap she wore. She wouldn´t give him any trouble. Twenty paces behind, he noticed the flash of a ring on her finger - possibly even a diamond. Drugs for a month, if so, he thought, almost salivating at the prospect. Ten paces behind, he was so close he could see that she had a ladder in her tights. Soon. Very soon.

So intent on his target, Billy didn´t see the man - an older man in a dark suit - coming up the path. Billy stopped short, surprised as the man called out. The blonde woman waved at him and called back. Billy hurried, veering from the path. He sat down on a nearby bench, trying to get his breathing under control as the blonde woman and the dark-suited man went off together. That was close. The two of them together would have proved too big a handful.

The adrenalin rush from the hunt had momentarily curbed his cravings, but soon the small pains were again shooting through his body. He needed to get something soon or it would be far worse. Hell of an early warning system, he thought wryly, clutching his middle as a flash of pain hit him. His hands were shaking, he saw. He needed something soon.

A man passed by then, dressed strangely - wearing a long cloak of some sort. Perhaps he was going to a fancy dress party, Billy speculated. Or maybe he was just a nutter. He watched the man hurry down the path. Young and fair, the man had a slim build and very light hair. The cloak had a rich look about it, and Billy thought the man´s face and demeanor seemed posh. Posh meant money, he thought, picturing a wallet stuffed to bursting with fifty-pound notes.

Billy shivered in the cold, his body craving more than ever. This man was younger and more fit than his previous targets. Perhaps he wouldn´t be able to make him give up the money. For a long moment, Billy thought maybe he should wait for a different target. A sudden cramp in his gut reminded him of the urgency of his need. Picking up a large stone from the ground, Billy slipped it into his pocket. He´d never used a weapon before, but he might need one now. This man was young and strong and wouldn´t give up his money easily. Billy didn´t want to hurt anyone. His body was telling him in a most painful way that he couldn´t wait another minute. The stone would have to do. He told himself he wouldn´t hurt the man. He´d just knock him down so that he could get the money.

He followed the man, who was walking quickly and purposefully through the park. Billy trotted fast to catch up, this time watching closely for witnesses. Thirty paces from his prey, he could see the man wrapping his cloak tighter against the cold. Billy shivered in his thin jacket. Twenty paces from the man, Billy could see that his target wore shiny black boots. Billy jogged silently in his cheap trainers. Ten paces from the man, he could see that the cloak had a plush fur collar. Billy tried to keep his breathing steady as he eased the stone from his pocket. He watched the man closely now, smiling to himself. The man had no idea Billy was there. Fool, Billy thought, with public parks the way they are nowadays.

With a quick lunge, Billy struck, knocking the stone sharply against the back of his target´s head. The man crumpled instantly and completely, dropping to the cold ground in eerie silence. Billy looked in wonder at the human form at his feet, completely still in an almost tranquil sort of way.

The fact that he had just killed for the first time was lost on Billy as he set upon the prone man, rifling his pockets. Frantic hands pawed the still figure, finding no wallet. Billy groaned. He wanted to kick the man, putting him to all this trouble for nothing! He tried to calm himself, plundering his prey for anything that might be of value. Seizing a small leather bag, he found some foreign coins. Probably rubbish, but maybe they were worth something. Shoving the bag into his pocket, Billy continued the search. In a deep pocket on the inside of the cloak he found a rectangular package wrapped in paper. He shoved it into his own pocket without taking the time to look at it. Someone might come along the path at any moment. Finally, in the man´s trouser pocket, Billy discovered a polished stick about a foot in length. Perhaps this fellow was a foreign conductor or something, Billy thought, throwing the useless thing away in the grass. There was nothing left. Billy longed to take the warm cloak, but wouldn´t let himself. It might be identifiable. Hurrying from of the park, not bothering to look back, he stopped only for a moment to toss the bloody stone into a rubbish bin.

Billy finally got his fix by selling the coins. They´d been worth more than he thought - they turned out to be gold. The pawnshop clerk didn´t know what country they were from, either, but he knew they were gold. Well funded, Billy managed to acquire enough drugs to sit happily in his rented room, deep in uncaring chemical bliss. It was a good week. A wonderful week. Best week ever, he thought. Unfortunately, it couldn´t last. The drugs ran out. Once again in need of money, Billy´s eyes fell upon the rectangular package, still undisturbed upon his battered chest of drawers.

Billy opened the wrapping, wondering what riches it might contain. More gold? His eyes lit up at that thought. Hell, he thought, it could even be drugs. That would save him a trip, he laughed, tearing off the paper wrapping. He was disappointed to find only a wooden box containing small stone carvings. He recognized it as a chess set of some kind, and doubted that it was worth much. It had to be worth at least one fix. It just had to be. Billy just needed something to get him through until tomorrow. Then he´d decide what to do next.

Billy decided on a pawnshop halfway across town, afraid of anything being traced back to him. His body was starting to crave again, and the ride on the underground seemed to take forever. Finally, he made his way through the streets to the shop, hands shaking and skin crawling.

The man behind the counter was young and fit, and looked suspicious when Billy came in. The shopkeeper only coughed up a pony for the chess set - the mean bastard. He even had the nerve to ask for proof of ownership. If Billy hadn´t been in so much agony, he would have certainly showed that man something. He would have showed the git, he would.

A lousy twenty-five pounds, Billy thought, clutching the bills. There was a sudden jarring motion as the train stopped. Only one more station to go. Billy stared at the crumpled banknotes in disgust. At least it was enough for one more fix.