Turning Point

Jimmy Macdonald sat in the cell and looked at the wall. First thing
tomorrow he would be marched from the cell to the yard and, in the
words of the Judge, 'be hanged by the neck until he was dead.'

He wondered how he had ended up like this.
Well, of course, he knew that. He'd shot a policeman.

The plan had been to break into the factory on the Thursday night. The
wages would have been delivered, ready for payday on Friday - it would
be easy pickings. That was the plan anyway.

Freddy 'The Duck' Smith was the mastermind behind the raid. They called
him 'The Duck' because the way that his strange, enlarged nose
flattened out towards the end made it look like a duck's bill. Smith
was a small time crook with an eye on the big time. He wanted to be the
Reggie Kray of his local manor.

Jimmy Macdonald had first come across him when he was about ten years
old and he had been caught playing in the builder's yard that Smith
owned.

Smith had threatened to call the police and tell Jimmy's parents and
the boy had pleaded with him not to. Smith had then blackmailed the boy
into doing a 'couple of jobs' for him.

These 'little jobs' involved Jimmy crawling into buildings through
small windows and opening the door for Smith and his cronies to clear
the place out. Jimmy found that he got quite a buzz out of it too, and
that Freddy gave him a few quid was just the icing on the cake. This
was the start of Jimmy's career in crime that, twelve years later,
culminated in the job at the factory.

That night at the factory was where it had all gone wrong. Freddy had
been planning it for ages. He had done his research, nothing was
supposed to go wrong.

Jimmy had turned up at Freddy's yard with the rest of the gang. One of
them, Tony, had been watching the factory all day and confirmed that
the van carrying the wages had arrived late in the afternoon. The van
had entered the factory gates as normal, the wages had been transferred
inside the building and the van had left. Just like every other
Thursday that they had been there, watching and planning.

Jimmy's job on this raid was the lookout. They weren't expecting any
problems but they always posted one anyway, just in case.

Tonight, it was Jimmy's turn. Freddy walked up and handed him a
pistol.

'Guns?' asked Jimmy. He didn't like them, and it was rare for Freddy to
decide to use them on a job.

'Just in case,' replied the gang leader.

'Are you expecting trouble then?'

Freddy shrugged his shoulders.

'Not sure,' he said. 'I overheard a conversation in the pub the other
night that sounded like another firm might be trying to muscle in. Its
probably something and nothing, so don't you worry my boy.'

Gang warfare, thought Jimmy. That's all we need. He hoped that Freddy
was right in his assumption that it was nothing to worry about.

He tucked the pistol into the inside pocket of his jacket.

The gang jumped into the back of the old van that Freddy had supplied
for the job. The supply and disposal of vehicles was one advantage of
Freddy's profession. This particular one had been acquired a few days
previously and the arrangements had been made to get rid of it after
the job had been done.

The van stopped just outside the factory and the back door flew open
releasing its occupants. Jimmy took up his position near the gate and
unconsciously tapped his coat, where the gun was tucked.

Others from the van opened the factory gates and the van drove through
into the factory yard.

The van came to a halt and the rest of the gang began to get out. In a
well-rehearsed manner, two men began to force the entrance to the main
office. As the door sprang open, the scene was bathed in light as the
headlamps of half a dozen cars parked around the yard switched on
simultaneously.

The air was then filled with the sounds of shouts, whistles and boots
running across the cobbled stones of the factory yard.

Jimmy looked across at the commotion.

Police, he thought. Somebody must've grassed.

Jimmy decided to keep low, and try and stay out of trouble. He tucked
himself down behind some boxes and waited. He could hear shouting and
scuffles as the police moved in and began to round up the gang.

Panic slowly began to creep in to Jimmy's mind as he thought about the
possibility of doing a stretch inside. He began to toss up whether to
stay where he was, or to try and make a run for it.

He listened carefully to the melee that was taking place in the yard.
It sounded a fair distance away. If he was quiet, he should be able to
creep away unnoticed he thought to himself.

Jimmy slowly stood up.

As he did so, he noticed the beam of a torch moving across the floor
and walls. Within a moment it was shining directly on his face, almost
blinding him.

'Oi!' said a voice from behind the torch. 'Stop. Police.'

Jimmy panicked. Almost without thinking he reached into his coat and
pulled out the gun. He pointed it at the place where the voice came
from. The gun wobbled as the hand holding it shook with nerves. In the
darkness, Jimmy could just about make out the familiar shape of a
policeman's helmet.

'Now, don't be stupid,' said the voice. 'Put down the gun and come
quietly.'

Jimmy didn't know what to do. He didn't want to go to prison. The
policeman was on his own, there was still the chance he could run for
it.

Jimmy kicked over the boxes he had been standing behind and ran. The
policeman followed. Jimmy heard a whistle blow.

Jimmy ran this way and that, hoping to find a way to evade his
follower. He was now hopelessly lost. He realised that the alleyway he
was now running down was a dead end.
He reached the end and turned.

A small lamp lit the alleyway. By the light of this lamp Jimmy could
make out the policeman ready to close in and arrest him.

Jimmy waved the gun around wildly.

'Put the gun down,' said the policeman.

Jimmy pointed the gun in the air and fired.

'I'm not afraid to use it, copper,' he shouted.

'Come on,' said the policeman again. 'Don't be stupid. We don't want
anyone to get hurt.'

Jimmy could hear other footsteps approaching. Very soon there would be
more police here.

This was his last chance.

He pointed the pistol at the policeman and fired.

Jimmy followed the priest along the corridor.

His footsteps echoed in the narrow passageway as if they were
deliberately emphasising that they would be the last ones he would ever
take. The warder to whom Jimmy was chained tried to make conversation,
to try and calm him down, Jimmy supposed.

The door to the execution chamber was ahead and it swung open as the
group approached.

It was all so rehearsed, so ceremonial thought Jimmy.

As he went through the door, the gallows loomed in front of him. It
seemed so huge, so imposing. He stumbled up the steps and stood in
front of the rope.

They say that your whole life passes in front of your eyes when you are
about to die, and this was no different for Jimmy. He was so busy
thinking back on what had happened to him, friends and family that he
would never see again that he hardly noticed his hands being tied or
the mask being placed over his head.

As the noose was placed around his neck and tightened Jimmy Macdonald
was thinking 'Where did it all go wrong?'

* * *

The operations room at the police station was full. Policemen and women
sat at or on tables, or leaned against the wall as Sergeant Alan
Blackwell outlined the evening's plan.

They had good information, he told them, that there was to be a raid on
a local textile factory tonight and this operation was planned to catch
the protagonists in the act.

It was a big op, and most of the station staff had were part of it.
Most could do with the overtime. PC James Macdonald certainly
could.

Since his Dad had died, he had been looking after his Mum as well as
himself.

He leaned against the wall listening to the Sergeant. The plan was to
hide up in the yard of the factory and catch the thieves by surprise as
they tried to break in. A small-time local villain, Freddy Smith, known
as the Duck, was thought to be behind the raid and it would be a real
coup if they could put him away.

'Okay,' said the Sergeant finally, 'I want you all ready by four
o'clock and we'll move into position at the factory a few at a time so
as not to arouse suspicion.'

During the latter part of the afternoon, various cars arrived and left
the factory as the participants in the night's raid were dropped off
and took up their positions. The police were aware that the factory was
probably being watched so they waited until the wages van had been and
gone before finally moving several unmarked cars into the yard at the
front of the factory.

PC Macdonald sat in one of the cars and thought back to when he had
decided to become a policeman.

Funnily enough, thought James, it was Freddy Smith, the man behind the
job tonight, that first got him excited about joining the police
force.

When he was about ten years old, he and some friends had been playing
in a builder's yard that was owned by Smith.

They were making themselves a den amongst a pile of bricks when they
found the bag. It was a leather holdall and had been hidden in the
middle of, what looked from the outside, a large pile of bricks.

Inside the bag, they discovered, were various pieces of jewellery and
several items of silver.
The boys whistled as the saw the contents.

'Is it nicked?' asked one of them.

'Duh!' said James, slapping his head. 'Course it is.'

'Lets get out of here, before we get caught,' said the other boy.

They agreed that was a good idea and crawled out of the brick pile.
They were making their way off the site when they heard a shout and saw
someone running towards them.

'Oi! Stop,' called the man. 'I'll report you to the police for
trespassing.'

James looked back at the man, and failed to see a piece of rubble that
was in his path. The trip sent him tumbling and allowed the man to
catch up to him. James was hauled unceremoniously to his feet. His
friends had gone.

'What's your name?' asked the man.

James looked at the man. He had a large misshapen nose that flattened
out towards its tip making it look like a ducks bill.

'James,' said James.

'Right, you're trespassing on private land so I'm going to report you
to the police.'

James looked at the man. He felt weird, almost as if whatever he did
now could have a profound effect on the rest of his life.

'Go on then,' he said. 'Get the police. We can wait here for them to
arrive.'

The man seemed to have second thoughts.

Suddenly he shouted 'Get out of my yard! If I ever catch you here
again, I will call the coppers, don't you worry!'

James ran out of the yard as fast as he could and raced home.

From that day onwards, James had dreamed of the day he would join the
police force and arrest Freddy Smith. When he left school, he joined
the local force and enjoyed his time as a beat officer. When the call
had gone up for volunteers for a job to finally collar 'the Duck' he'd
jumped at the chance. He remembered himself standing in front of the
mirror when he was about ten practicing the caution he would give when
he arrested Smith.

A call went round that a van, believed to contain Smith and his gang,
was on the way.
James felt his stomach tighten.

A couple of minutes later the factory gates opened and a van drove
in.

It stopped just outside the main factory entrance and the rear doors
opened.

James watched from the car as about half a dozen men climbed out of the
rear of the van. Two of them went to the factory entrance and began to
force the door.

'Go! Go! Go!'

Simultaneously the headlights from the unmarked cars flooded the yard
with light, turning night into day, and the police officers previously
hidden around the yard began to run towards the gang.

Pandemonium followed as the crooks tried to make a run for it. James
grabbed one of them as he ran past, twisting his arm behind his back as
he did so, before marching the man to one of the Black Marias that had
positioned themselves across the gate when the operation began.

After depositing his charge, James noticed a pile of boxes about thirty
feet or so from the gate. He took out his torch and walked slowly
towards the pile of boxes.

He shone the torch at the boxes, sweeping the narrow beam across the
floor and up the wall.

As he got closer, he thought he saw something moving. A shape emerged
from behind the boxes and James moved the torch upwards illuminating
it.

The torchlight revealed a man standing, looking at James.

James moved the beam up, until it shone into the man's face.

'Oi!' he shouted. 'Stop. Police.'

James could see the panic on the man's face.

The policeman reckoned that he was probably about the same age as
himself. The man reached into his coat and James watched, stunned, as
he pulled out a gun and pointed it at the policeman.

James stood there for a moment, not knowing what to do. A voice inside
told him to try and talk to the man, persuade him to give up the
weapon.

'Now, don't be stupid,' he said. 'Put down the gun and come
quietly.

The man moved towards him and, for a moment, the policeman thought that
the man was about to give himself up. Then the man kicked over the
boxes and ran.

James followed the man, blowing his whistle as he ran in the hope of
getting some backup.
The man dived down various alleys, trying to escape capture. James
followed, and eventually the man ran into a narrow alley that came to
an end at a solid brick wall.

The man turned and, once again, waved the gun in the policeman's
direction.

'Put the gun down,' said James. Where was his backup? he thought.
Somebody must've heard his whistle.

The man continued waving the gun.

'I'm not afraid to use it, copper,' shouted the man. He pointed the gun
in the air and fired.

The noise echoed around the alleyway.

'Come on,' said James. 'Don't be stupid. We don't want anyone to get
hurt.' He could hear footsteps behind him. Backup, he thought. At
last.

Suddenly he heard another loud bang.

James looked at the man. The gun was pointed directly at him. He was
suddenly aware of a pain in his chest and looked down to where there
was now a small hole in his jacket. He looked back at the man. For a
moment, he thought he recognised him. For another moment it seemed that
he was holding the gun, watching as the policeman's legs buckled.

As he hit the ground and darkness began to envelop him, PC James
Macdonald was wondering where it all went wrong?

THE END