Phone Call

Manny O'Donnell never considered himself to be rich. He's the CEO of one of the two largest computer companies in the country, but even then, he believed that he was still quite a way from opulence. Ask anyone else, however, and they'd talk of his mansion (high on a hill with miles of gardens all around), his servants (so many that he himself didn't know the exact number of them on his grounds), his cars (a new one every other month), and the money, money, money (so much that he could drown if he stepped into his safe). No one ever asked him why he didn't consider himself rich. Probably no one cared, either. But he knew. He knew that the amount of his luxuries was no more than that of his old buddy, Jack. Maybe even less. Ol' Jack Napston. They'd gone to college together. Shared a dorm room, decided on the same major, graduated, and even got their first job working with computers together. And they found that they'd had the same aspirations - to build the greatest computer company the world's ever going to see. And both had succeeded, but each with his own company. Manny ran one of the two largest computer companies in the country. Who ran the other? Jack.

The summer evening was beautiful. Manny loosened his robes so that he could enjoy more of the breeze. From his balcony he could see most of his property. The trees and bushes and grass rolled on toward the horizon in neat trimmed rows. His fiancée had called today. He'd been out at lunch, so she left a message. Why not take a break from the corporate world and go mountain climbing with her next week? Call her back.

Manny struggled with this suggestion for the entire day. Leaving for a whole week meant that his company could be left in the dust if Jack was to pull off some deal. Manny trusted no one in his company apart from himself. He'd left strict orders that if he had to go abroad for some business meeting or something, no one could make decisions in his absence. He would deal with all matters that arose when he returns. No, he decided. His company needs him. He couldn't let Jack win. He just couldn't.

He called his fiancée. "Kara? Yes, I'm fine. I want- Yes, yes, I took care of it. Right. I called to let y- What? Yeah, of course. Don't worry about it. Now, listen! I called to tell you I can't go next week. Why not? Some deals are pending for next week. One of those deals could be the one that will boost the company above all competi- Well, yes. Who else? Jack. Okay, I'm sorry, honey. I'll make it up. Okay? All right. Bye. Yeah. Bye." Now that that was settled, he could devote all of himself to his work. But it bothered him that Kara sounded so sad after he told her the news. Oh, he might as well call her back and comfort her. Maybe make an empty promise or two about going on trips with her in the future. They worked before.

Manny walked back over to the telephone. Picked up the receiver, dialed the digits. Funny, there was no ring. Then he heard a voice, "-ston is going down tomorrow." A second, lower voice answered, "Fine with me. Where do I killim?"

"In the alley shortcut to the park south of here. Guy always goes for
a stroll in the park at around 7. He'll arrive at the alley sometime
between 7:20 and 7:40."

At this point a chill ran down Manny's spine. Jack Napston was the only person he knew who took daily evening walks in the south park. Manny held the phone now with sweaty hands, clutching it, afraid to make just the tiniest of sounds lest the men hear him.

"Use de silencer?"

"Of course, idiot!"

"Hey, don't call me an idiot!"

"Listen, just shut up and kill Napston. When this is through, meet me
at the usual spot, west edge of the park for your pay. Just make sure
you do the deed nice and clean, like all the others."

"Alright. No problem. You kin bet it'll be clean. Is that other rich
boy after Napston?"

"You don't worry about that. Leave it to us. You just kill them."

"Herh, heh, gotcha."

Manny had heard enough. These men were planning to kill Jack Napston, his old college buddy. He quickly hung up the phone, still sweating cold sweat all over. Jack Napston would be killed at about this time tomorrow. He had to call the cops. Or Jack, and tell him not to take a walk tomorrow evening. That a man was going to shoot him with a silenced gun. But would Jack believe him? He'd most likely just sneer and joke about it all. He'd never take it seriously. Hmph. In that case, maybe he shouldn't call the cops. Maybe he just won't call Jack. Why not just let him die? Overhearing the conversation was just an accident anyway. If he never did, Jack would die. It wasn't his business to go about saving peoples' lives. Especially people who were the main rivals to his business. If Jack was to leave the picture, Manny's own business would explode and expand like never before. He would be the only person with such power. Jack's company would crumble without his cunning organization. Yes. Why mind other people's business? He should just tend to himself.

Manny felt better. It was almost a load off his chest, because that load was going to die by some mysterious assassin's gun tomorrow evening. Now he'll call Kara back. Tell her that he can indeed go with her. She'll be thrilled. He dials the numbers. "Hello? Kara. Hey, Manny. Listen, I'd feel bad about not going on this trip with you, so I've decided to take a break and spend this next week with you on that trip. Yeah, ok. Great! See you Monday!" Hahaha, two birds with one stone. Jack Napston and his bothersome company will be out of the picture, and he just made up to his fiancée.

The next evening, as Manny was sitting in his armchair, watching the Simpsons, a special news bulletin appeared. "This just in. Millionaire Jack Napston has been found not an hour ago in an alleyway near the south park. He has apparently been shot in the back 3 times by a handgun. The police are still investigating for clues about the killer." -bye Jack. Hello, easy street.

Manny was so intent on watching the TV that he never heard anyone steal in from his open balcony window.

Ploot.

Blat.

Psich.

Three well-aimed bullets shot through the soft armchair and lodged themselves into Manny's head, neck, and back. He slumped into the chair without a sound. Forever.

As the assassin walked back toward the open balcony, he turned back around toward the still form of Manny, and the still-on TV, and said,

"Herh, heh. This guy was way easier than his friend. At least his
friend made a run for rich boys."