Chapter Eight: ‘Day Eight’
Following a brief visit from his wife today, Alan’s only other visitor was a suited and booted gentleman who carried a look of officialdom about his person. Alan later identified the stranger to the ward as being his solicitor. Alan later told me that he’d asked his solicitor to visit so that he might draft his last will and testament and tidy up business and other matters he needed attending to.
The solicitor’s visit lasted almost an hour and their voices were kept low enough to avoid being overheard. I listened hard but heard absolutely nothing. During their meeting, the solicitor drew the curtains around his client’s bed. I couldn’t stop myself thinking why their conversation was carried out in whispers; much lower in volume than when his lover Margaret had drawn the bed side curtains. The thought that a man could be more secretive about personal money matters than his sexual predilections amused me.
The solicitor’s visit lasted almost an hour and their voices were kept low enough to avoid being overheard. I listened hard but heard absolutely nothing. During their meeting, the solicitor drew the curtains around his client’s bed. I couldn’t stop myself thinking why their conversation was carried out in whispers; much lower in volume than when his lover Margaret had drawn the bed side curtains. The thought that a man could be more secretive about personal money matters than his sexual predilections amused me.
I could instantly see the look of relief that crossed Alan’s face after the departure of his visitor.
After the midnight hour, I made two cups of tea and sat at the side of Alan’s bed again. Once more, we talked into the early morning hours. Alan confirmed that he’d prepared his will that afternoon, but didn’t say anything further to indicate his final wishes.
Then, wholly unconnected with anything we’d been speaking about, he said, “What would you have been prepared to do, Bill, if someone raped the woman you love?”
“Somewhat surprised by the question, I replied, “I’ve never given the matter any previous thought, Alan, but of one thing I’m sure; I’d certainly do something about it! I’d not let it pass without doing something about it!”
After the midnight hour, I made two cups of tea and sat at the side of Alan’s bed again. Once more, we talked into the early morning hours. Alan confirmed that he’d prepared his will that afternoon, but didn’t say anything further to indicate his final wishes.
Then, wholly unconnected with anything we’d been speaking about, he said, “What would you have been prepared to do, Bill, if someone raped the woman you love?”
“Somewhat surprised by the question, I replied, “I’ve never given the matter any previous thought, Alan, but of one thing I’m sure; I’d certainly do something about it! I’d not let it pass without doing something about it!”
“I accept that you’d do ‘something’, Bill, but I wonder how far you’d be prepared to go to right the wrong done to a loved one?”
Only then did Alan reveal the nature and import of his question. He told me of the time when Margaret had informed him of the hurt and shame she’d carried around with her for so long. It was a shame so personal that it had left her depressed for many months, and she still bore it with reluctant attachment.
It had been the occasion of the birth of her son, Timothy, which had brought it all back to her; a time when all happiness of the new life she’d just given birth to ought to have quelled the bad things in her past.
When her son entered the world, Margaret was resentful that Jerry Swales, the man who’d raped and violated her, was still a part of her life. What was worse, she knew that Swales would remain so, every time she looked upon her son and saw his likeness look back at her from the face of innocence. Even their noses were perfect replicas. This thought tormented her greatly.
Only then did Alan reveal the nature and import of his question. He told me of the time when Margaret had informed him of the hurt and shame she’d carried around with her for so long. It was a shame so personal that it had left her depressed for many months, and she still bore it with reluctant attachment.
It had been the occasion of the birth of her son, Timothy, which had brought it all back to her; a time when all happiness of the new life she’d just given birth to ought to have quelled the bad things in her past.
When her son entered the world, Margaret was resentful that Jerry Swales, the man who’d raped and violated her, was still a part of her life. What was worse, she knew that Swales would remain so, every time she looked upon her son and saw his likeness look back at her from the face of innocence. Even their noses were perfect replicas. This thought tormented her greatly.
Alan told me that once he learned of Margaret’s rape, he found himself feeling extremely protective towards her and Timothy. He found himself expressing profound anger on her behalf for the violation she’d experienced, and the single thought inside his head was one that shouted ‘revenge!’
Some four months after Timothy’s birth, Alan made another work visit to Ireland. He had business matters to attend to in Waterford again with one of his good customers and he spent the weekend lodging in Kilmeaden, on the Waterford Road to Portlaw and Carrick on Suir. Travelling ahead of Alan to Ireland by two days was Charles Dwight. His passage and expenses had been paid for by Alan as part of a commission the couple had secretly entered into.
Charles Dwight was not the kind of person that any respectable business man would have as a travelling companion. Neither was he a person one would be seen in polite company with, and yet, he was the ideal companion for Alan during this business trip to Waterford.
Some four months after Timothy’s birth, Alan made another work visit to Ireland. He had business matters to attend to in Waterford again with one of his good customers and he spent the weekend lodging in Kilmeaden, on the Waterford Road to Portlaw and Carrick on Suir. Travelling ahead of Alan to Ireland by two days was Charles Dwight. His passage and expenses had been paid for by Alan as part of a commission the couple had secretly entered into.
Charles Dwight was not the kind of person that any respectable business man would have as a travelling companion. Neither was he a person one would be seen in polite company with, and yet, he was the ideal companion for Alan during this business trip to Waterford.
Charles had a police record as a juvenile for a few offences of theft and criminal damage, and had kept his criminal record sheet clean since being sixteen years old. Despite having committed numerous crimes of violence over the past twenty years, he’d never once been caught and held to account for any of them. As far as evading police detection was concerned, Charles Dwight had learned early on in life that preparation and detailed planning was the true art of non-discovery. He trusted nobody, accepted nothing at face value and always worked alone. He’d insist upon being paid a half of his fee one month in advance before any act of criminality he’d been commissioned to do was performed. Naturally, payment would be strictly cash.
Alan knew that despite what Swales had done to Margaret, she’d never go as far as agreeing to sanction violence against the rapist so, Alan kept her in the dark about his intentions.
Alan had obtained the name of Charles Dwight from one of his drivers. The driver had a mate who’d once secured the services of Dwight to have another chap badly worked over. Charles Dwight was a man who could accurately be termed as an ‘Angel of Revenge’.
Unfortunately, Alan never knew how savage Charles Dwight could be. Dwight was prepared to inflict any manner of specific hurt on a targeted victim for a nominated fee, but he never deliberately went beyond grievous bodily harm. He’d never killed one of his victims; although he’d come perilously close to manslaughter on a couple of occasions. Every one of Dwight’s victims would never forget having been visited by him, but none ever knew why! Had Alan been aware of how violent a man Dwight could be, he would never have used him.
Alan had obtained the name of Charles Dwight from one of his drivers. The driver had a mate who’d once secured the services of Dwight to have another chap badly worked over. Charles Dwight was a man who could accurately be termed as an ‘Angel of Revenge’.
Unfortunately, Alan never knew how savage Charles Dwight could be. Dwight was prepared to inflict any manner of specific hurt on a targeted victim for a nominated fee, but he never deliberately went beyond grievous bodily harm. He’d never killed one of his victims; although he’d come perilously close to manslaughter on a couple of occasions. Every one of Dwight’s victims would never forget having been visited by him, but none ever knew why! Had Alan been aware of how violent a man Dwight could be, he would never have used him.
Alan told me that the weekend of the hit had been planned down to the last detail by Dwight. While Charles was doing what he’d been paid to do, Alan would remain wholly unconnected to the event. While Dwght was engaged in his criminal commission, Alan was entertaining his business contact fifteen miles away in Waterford City. Alan had indicated to Charles Dwight that the least he knew what he planned to do to Jerry Swales and how he planned to do it, the better. He stated that all he required from Dwight was the satisfaction of knowing that Swales had been badly hurt and proof that the job had been carried out.
Before Alan had travelled to Waterford, and unknown to him, Charles Dwight had spent the previous two days renting a farmhouse, five miles from Portlaw. Charles knew that he’d receive another £3,000 from Alan on top of the £3,000 he'd already received, after his assignment had been completed. On the night in question, as Alan ate a meal and socialised with his business contact in Waterford City, the six-foot one inch, 18-stone Charles Dwight put his plans in motion.
Dwight had done his homework well. He’d established that never a Friday or Saturday night went by when Jerry Swales wouldn’t drive into Waterford City before midnight to participate in a bit of gambling at the roulette wheel. Jerry had developed this gambling habit a year earlier and now found the costly practice highly addictive.
Dwight parked up near the Swales’ residence and awaited his prey leaving. It was after 11.30 pm when Jerry Swales left the house, jumped into his sports car, and drove towards the main gates.
When Dwight saw his target approach, he started his car and drove ahead of his victim at high speed towards the Waterford Road from Portlaw. The Waterford Road was the only main road into Waterford after one and a half miles of narrow road out of Portlaw had been travelled.
Dwight parked up near the Swales’ residence and awaited his prey leaving. It was after 11.30 pm when Jerry Swales left the house, jumped into his sports car, and drove towards the main gates.
When Dwight saw his target approach, he started his car and drove ahead of his victim at high speed towards the Waterford Road from Portlaw. The Waterford Road was the only main road into Waterford after one and a half miles of narrow road out of Portlaw had been travelled.
Charles Dwight arrived at the spot he’d chosen along the darkest part of the narrow country road, one mile outside Portlaw, minutes before his victim approached. This was the place he planned to slow down and stop Jerry Swales as his victim’s sports car came into view. Dwight had spread a branch across the narrow road which Jerry couldn’t drive over without damaging his low undercarriage and risking his own safety.
When the Squire’s son saw the ‘fallen branch’ across the road at the very last moment, he applied his brakes hard. His vehicle skidded and did a U-turn in the middle of the country road before coming to an abrupt halt in a ditch.
Dwight approached Jerry’s car and saw his victim slumped over the steering wheel in a semi-conscious state. For a moment he feared the worst, until Jerry suddenly started to painfully moan. Charles Dwight put on a balaclarva black woolen helmet, just in case another car passed by and was able to recognise him in their head beam.
Dwight approached Jerry’s car and saw his victim slumped over the steering wheel in a semi-conscious state. For a moment he feared the worst, until Jerry suddenly started to painfully moan. Charles Dwight put on a balaclarva black woolen helmet, just in case another car passed by and was able to recognise him in their head beam.
“Come here, young man,” Dwight soothingly said sarcastically as he helped Jerry from the car and laid him down at the side of the road. Jerry was still in a semi-conscious state and wasn’t aware of all that was happening around him. Charles Dwight left him for two minutes, went to his parked vehicle that was situated off the road and extracted a heavy metal instrument from the boot before returning. He then approached the prostrated body in the middle of the road wielding a crow bar menacingly; determined to do grievious damage!
Three minutes later, Jerry Swales lay there on the road with blood-stained hands and crushed knee caps, having endured the greatest pain and suffering he’d ever felt. The blood poured from a gash in his skull, which had been struck in the assault.
Three minutes later, Jerry Swales lay there on the road with blood-stained hands and crushed knee caps, having endured the greatest pain and suffering he’d ever felt. The blood poured from a gash in his skull, which had been struck in the assault.
Charles Dwight had smashed both knee caps with the crow bar until the bone had cracked and crushed; leaving a jagged part of it protruding through the skin. Not content with crippling his victim, Dwight then finished off his task by doing similar permanent damage to each of Jerry Swale’s hands! In his rage, Dwight was wholly unaware that he’d also caught his victim with the crow bar on the head and how close he’d come to killing him!
As the attack was taking place, Jerry screamed in agony and passed out when the pain became too much for him to bear. Before he left the scene, Charles Dwight took photographs of his damaged victim as proof that he’d carried out the job he’d been hired to do.
Jerry Swales was to lay on the side of the narrow road for a further fifteen minutes after Charles Dwight abandoned him there. Eventually, another motorist found him and telephoned for an ambulance to take the badly injured man to the nearest hospital to receive emergency attention.
Jerry Swales was to lay on the side of the narrow road for a further fifteen minutes after Charles Dwight abandoned him there. Eventually, another motorist found him and telephoned for an ambulance to take the badly injured man to the nearest hospital to receive emergency attention.
Having requested that he be spared the specific details of Dwight's assault, and with his business having been satisfactorily concluded in Waterford, the very next day Alan met up with Charles Dwight for the final time.
The couple met by arrangement at the ‘Tower Clock’ on the waterfront. As proof that he’d done the job, Dwight gave Alan the photographic evidence he'd taken of Swale's injuries. Upon seeing the photographs, Alan winced at the sight of the apparent bodily damage Dwight had inflicted.
The couple met by arrangement at the ‘Tower Clock’ on the waterfront. As proof that he’d done the job, Dwight gave Alan the photographic evidence he'd taken of Swale's injuries. Upon seeing the photographs, Alan winced at the sight of the apparent bodily damage Dwight had inflicted.
“It looks far worse than it is!” Dwight remarked when he saw Alan’s face recoil on seeing the bloodied wounds of Swales. Sensing that Alan now regretted having commissioned such an act, Dwight added, “But he’ll not forget our meeting; that I’ll guarantee!”
Alan said that he handed Dwight the remainder of his fee and added that was the last time they ever saw each other.
After Alan had told me his story of the ‘hit’ he’d paid for, he looked at me and said, “I suppose you now think me evil to have gone to such lengths, don’t you, Bill?”
I didn’t reply. To tell the truth, I didn’t know how far I would have been prepared to go in Alan’s circumstances. I was still trying to get my head around the tale I’d just heard.
“We’ll talk again tomorrow, Alan”, I said, adding, “I’m tired now and ready to get some shut eye. Goodnight.”
“Goodnight, Bill,” Alan replied.
Alan said that he handed Dwight the remainder of his fee and added that was the last time they ever saw each other.
After Alan had told me his story of the ‘hit’ he’d paid for, he looked at me and said, “I suppose you now think me evil to have gone to such lengths, don’t you, Bill?”
I didn’t reply. To tell the truth, I didn’t know how far I would have been prepared to go in Alan’s circumstances. I was still trying to get my head around the tale I’d just heard.
“We’ll talk again tomorrow, Alan”, I said, adding, “I’m tired now and ready to get some shut eye. Goodnight.”
“Goodnight, Bill,” Alan replied.
