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Murder at the Bank

It was 1984, a dark and eerie late autumn evening in upstate New York. The air had a gripping briskness in it, and the bare trees left a presence of death and decay. Everywhere painted leaves and chilling rain intermixed to make this day all the less appealing. Henry Sunboard sat in his office at the local bank. Wrestling a cigar in his mouth, he looked outside and saw a mysterious looking man. He was dressed in a black trench coat and approached the bank quickly. Abruptly Henry heard the sudden crack of a gunshot and wailing. His cigar dropped from his mouth, burning a hole in his trousers. He let out a piercing screech as the cinders fried his flesh.

He cautiously yet quickly moved into the main room of the bank. He noticed victims everywhere and realized that the man in the black coat must have done this. He was the only other person Henry had seen around lately. A small torn piece of paper saturated with blood caught his attention. Shutting out the screams of the victims he started to ponder the note. All he could make out was: “The raven croaks at noon on the twenty-fourth of June." The town mascot was a raven, he thought. Was this man plotting to murder the mascot? Why would he do such a thing? How could he do such a thing? None of this was making any sense to Henry and for a moment he just stood there confused. Looking around at the victims he noticed a small woman, brown hair, beautiful figure. He rushed to her side, fell to his knees, and started balling. The woman was his secret lover, Miss Lindsey Carbow. How his heart ached no one could possibly understand. Then he realized what he had to do. He had to stop this killer before he made another attack.

Outside Henry sprinted into the dark, treacherous night looking to find any sign of an unknown killer whose face was a mystery. The image of the carnage on the marble bank floor burned through his mind like his cigar to his leg. "What could I have done to help?" he thought to himself. Henry had to find this man and kill him, get revenge for killing his only love. Murderous thoughts were raced through his mind like a racecar at the Indy 500. Where was this man? Only God knew.

The Earth under his leather loafers were turning from being moist when he started to being a makeshift bog. The rain was getting stronger and the night colder. Any chance of finding footprints had been erased from actuality. Henry kept thinking about the note. He thought about how the mascot might die at noon tomorrow. This how he could find the man. Not by hysterically searching for muddy footsteps or by premonition but by the obvious clue left by the stranger.

"The day is Friday, October 12th 1976, John Sunboard is in the locker room prepping for his final homecoming game. As he dresses, his high school memories come racing to his mind. The four years of popularity, girls constantly crawling all over him, being elected homecoming king along with his beloved girlfriend Lindsey, the perfect years every high school guy dreams of. Thinking of this, he now realized that all of it was coming to an end. Shaking the memories from his mind, and remembering that he had a game to win, he put his helmet on. Casually walking out onto the field he hearing the crowed to go wild, knowing he was a star. He jogged over to the rest of his team and began the last minute warm-up. Then he saw her. Lindsey. She was over at the sidelines in her cheerleading outfit getting the rest of the squad pepped and ready to go.
It’s now thirty seconds to kickoff and John’s mind is racing. He knows this is his last chance, he can’t blow this. The game starts and he calls out the first play but just as he starts for a tackle he notices Lindsey missing from the cheerleaders. Where was she? Just as he started to tackle he saw his brother, Henry, in the visiting team’s bleachers kissing Lindsey. All he could think about was how this could have happened, and why, his only brother? John knew he had to do something about this, but in the middle of his last high school football game? He didn’t know when but he would get revenge with impunity on both Lindsey and Henry. Why would such a beautiful girl find a raven attractive?”

The rain was just now letting up as Henry rounded the corner to his street. Henry wasn’t anyone special. He lived in a little one bedroom one bath condominium just out of the Lake Placid city limits. As soon as Henry walked in the house he ran to the only phone, picked it up with shaking hands and dialed his brother's number. The phone rang once, then twice, every ring brought more and more panic. Finally after what seemed like forever the phone stopped ringing, but no one was on the other end. Henry could tell that someone had picked up the phone, but there was nobody there. Henry screamed John's name into the receiver, but heard only silence in return. Henry hung up the phone, and stood in the kitchen baffled. All of a sudden he had an idea. He raced out the door and spirited the 1/2mile run to John's house. Normally at about 11pm the sky is a bluish black color twinkling with stars, but now it was pitch black, no stars, no moon, not a light in the sky, just dark. As Henry ran, all he could think of was how he was going to break the news to his brother that his wife was dead, and that Henry was there when it happened.

When he got to the front door of John's house he viciously forced his foot through the door, causing it to fall to the ground. He ran inside the house and screamed John's name, but again with no response. The house was dark, cold, and looked as though no one had been there in days. He walked around the house, still trying to find John. As he came into the kitchen he found John's calendar on the table along with a shredded picture of Lindsey and him on their wedding day. Immediately Henry searched today’s date, seeing if there was anything written, to give him any clue of to where John may be. In the lower right hand corner there was something written. Henry took off his glasses and tried to make out what it could be. Henry sat down at the table. He got even closer and saw that the word "bank" was written on today's date of the calendar. Now Henry knew that the only bank that John was registered in was the "Bank of New York" which was where he worked. Henry had worked at the bank ever since it had opened that morning and not once did John come in that day. Henry looked around the room and noticed a rectangular piece of paper under the refrigerator. He got up from his chair and went to grab the paper.

On the paper was a list, including time(10:30pm), date(October 12th, 1984) and a list of items such as a knife, shotgun, ammo, and duct tape. Everything made sense to him now. He didn't understand why John would have killed his own wife but it was the only possible thing that made any sense of the evidence he found. Henry put the calendar, picture, and list in his back pocket and walked out the door. He was headed to his own house now.

When Henry reached his condo it was after midnight, still raining, and freezing cold. He ran inside his house, grabbed his car keys and took off again, this time to the bank. He got into his car and headed south towards the bank. Once he grabbed the security tapes and got back into his car. Back in the car he turned onto the highway and went west to the nearest police station.

About 5 minutes into the drive his hands shook more then earlier, and his breathing was rapid, and deep. He turned on the radio, trying to take his mind off of what was going to happen when he tried to explain everything to the police. Just about a minute later one of his favorite songs came on and he turned up the radio so that it could be heard from outside the car.

As soon as his hand was back on the steering wheel, there was another hand over his mouth and a gun to his head. He tried to scream only to have his head slammed against the driver’s seat. Immediately Henry knew who was in the car. As he struggled to get free John only tightened the grip on him and moved his hand to Henry’s neck. A second later Henry heard the emotional words of John saying, "It was eight years ago on this very night that I was playing in my last high school football game, and I saw you and Lindsey kissing. We got married on June 24, 1980, but the love affair between you two lasted. I knew that eventually I had to get revenge, and for the past eight years I’ve been planning for this very night. Good bye, Henry." And with that there was one last crack of a gun, then the skidding of tires, as the car swerved uncontrollably.

The next thing John felt was a sharp pain in his lower back almost as if he had been shot himself. The car screeched to a stop and police sirens sounded in the distance. When the police arrived they took one look at the crash scene and one touch of the neck to find that neither man had a pulse.





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