Now free, the two dogs had gone to look for a way in. At precisely that time, Albert, backing away from Francis in the lockup, had suddenly realised he couldn’t hear the dogs barking, howling, and whining any longer. He figured the police had arrived and were moving into position or something, but when a movement outside of the window caught his eye, a whole new plan emerged.
Less than a minute later, Rex was running for all he was worth. The human had a head start, but that wouldn’t count for much: humans are rubbish at running. Rex suspected that was because they insisted on walking around on just their back legs.
He barked with joy, chasing the man yet again and feeling certain that this time he was going to get to bite some flesh. The bum was always a good target. It was at just the right height and people tended to be running away.
His own bark of excitement was echoed by one from Hans just a few yards behind. Rex turned his head to steal a quick look. His little friend was running for all he was worth. The bandage on his foot was half off now, and as Rex turned his head back to the front, he thought he saw it fly off into the weeds. They had reached the edge of the concreted area and were now on overgrown scrubland. The weeds and brambles, which must have grown rampant through the summer, were now dying back. They slowed Rex down more than Hans who was able to go under most of them while Rex was forced to go over.
Ahead of them, Francis was running in a blind panic. From the jaws of victory, he was somehow not only snatching defeat, but he was also going to get mauled by the dog and then arrested. He needed the machete. With that he could at least defend himself against the enormous hound. There hadn’t been time to grab it though. At least, that was how it seemed at the time, but now he had to question if he had simply panicked. Maybe he should have taken the machete and killed the dog right there and then. It would have dealt with the issue. Then he could have vented his frustration at the old man and left without anyone knowing.
His scrambled brain had forgotten the police would have caught him trying to leave, but as his laboured breath threatened to overwhelm him, a glimmer of hope appeared.
There was a river ahead!
It wasn’t a big one, but it was big enough. The dogs wouldn’t be able to follow, and if they did, he could already see the far bank was too steep for them to clamber up. He was just going to have to jump for it and hope for the best.
He stole a glance over his shoulder, then wished he hadn’t for both the giant German Shepherd and the daft sausage dog came bursting through the undergrowth ten yards behind him. Could he make it to the river before they brought him down?
Rex bared his teeth; this was it! He was two bounds away from leaping and could think of nothing other than bringing down his target, just like they taught him back at police dog school. Hans was barking something, but Rex’s head was too filled with adrenalin to make out what it was. It sounded like he was trying to get Rex to stop.
Francis closed to within a yard of the river and leapt.
Behind him, Hans, who couldn’t make Rex hear his message, ran directly between the larger dog’s feet, tangling them deliberately to bring him down.
While Rex crashed to the dirt, colliding painfully with the ground, and rolling multiple times, Francis had a brief moment to savour victory. Then his eyes widened as he sailed out over the water and saw what was beneath him.
‘What the heck, Hans!’ barked Rex, trying to get back to his feet so he could follow the man. He couldn’t believe it, he just couldn’t. He was just about to leap when the dachshund tripped him. It had to be on purpose. Shoving off again to get to the water’s edge so he could see the man and choose where to jump in, he stopped and let his jaw drop.
Between heavy panting, Hans managed to say, ‘I couldn’t come up with another way to stop you. I know this area. My human likes to walk along the river. There’s a path on the other side.’
Three yards beneath them, the limp form of Francis lay half in and half out of the water. Protruding from his back, where it had penetrated his chest, but also through his neck, one arm, and both legs, were the rusted spikes of several old shopping trolleys. He was impaled and very, very dead.
Constable Marin arrived a few seconds later, whistling for the dogs in that ridiculous way that humans do. The dogs were still staring down into the murky water which made it easy for the police officer to find the man she wanted to question. When he leapt from his red Mondeo and ran from them, it was obvious that he had something he needed to hide. When the duct tape clad man appeared from the boot, chasing, and catching him became an imperative. That imperative was gone now.
A crashing sound behind her heralded the arrival of her partner Patterson just as she was lifting her lapel radio to call dispatch: this was going to take some additional people and resources.
Evidence
Sitting on the bonnet of the police
