The Paranoid Thief Read Online Free Page B

be set off
hours later when Mr. Hilden knew the whole family would be home. The death of
the jogger had been the simplest way to get the wheels of corporate justice on
the move. Any murder automatically put a person on the top of the list, rating
a visit from the city’s Special Forces. Once an informant squealed out
Randolph’s location, the specialized group would have mobilized and entered
Randolph’s office minutes after Mr. Stanton left. A truly professional job, Randolph grudgingly admitted. He turned
his face to peer at the snot-nosed lawyer whose slack-jawed face gave Randolph
every confidence in the court system. With a look skyward for help, Randolph
already could feel the imaginary needle of death slide into his arm.
    “Mr. Hamming, how does your client plead?”
The Judge questioned, his voice colored with loathing to further imprint what the kid’s choice of words should render.
    “Uh, hmm,” the young man stumbled. He
opened his collar with a finger and then straightened his tie. With a look to
Randolph with fear plainly visible in his eyes, he never even attempted to pick
up the ear piece to communicate with Randolph before he said with a squeaky
voice, “Guilty as charged Your Honor.”
    “So entered,” the judge declared and
slammed his gavel down, totally ignoring that Randolph’s lawyer had never
spoken to his client. “Mr. McCann,” the judge began. “Alias
Bill Lenton , John Thornton, and Bob Towner. This court of law has the pleasure of sentencing you to death. As you have
pleaded guilty, the sentence will be carried out in three days’ time!” With a
final drop of his gavel of justice, the judge called out, “Next case,” while
Randolph, though ranting and raving within his restraints, was lowered out of
the courtroom.
    Ceremoniously charged with murder meant top
security measures were applied to the prisoner to make certain he couldn’t
deprive the grief-stricken families the pleasure of watching him die. But in
Randolph’s case, as he had been convicted in the death of a corporate head, the
kangaroo court took extra measures to be certain their prisoner didn’t off
himself before the city could record his death. For executions of his notoriety were a profitable business , one guaranteed to bring in
thousands of video sales at twenty credits a pop. This left no opportunity for
Randolph to apply his very useful skills as a professional thief and escape
artist, which left him, in three days’ time, taken to the injection room by the
same robotic transportation unit and redundant guards. Unable to control his
emotional state, however embarrassing it may have been while moved to the
special viewing room, Randolph excitedly implicated Mr. Hilden in the deaths of
the Henderson family and the park jogger. Even so, while he cited over and over
he’d never take a human life, Randolph knew it would only be seen as a
slanderous gesture.

 
    The robotic device of cold steel rolled
without judgment of Randolph’s disgraceful display of self preservation moved
into a sterile room of white and rotated its passenger so that he faced a
closed curtain. This curtain hid the faces of those possibly victimized by his
criminal deeds. And although Randolph knew he had been judged rightly on most
of the minor and major crimes, it wrenched asunder his soul to die for another
man’s crime! Indifferent to how it might look on video, Randolph fought his
restraints, regardless of its futility, and pleaded his innocence at the top of
his lungs unto deaf ears even after a neck ring had been forcibly applied to
help immobilize his head and press his jaw closed.
    “Please...” Randolph begged through pressed
lips. “I didn’t do it! I’ve never killed anyone! Please!” He begged on without
any conscious thoughts on how history would view his apparent cowardly cry.
While he continued to strain every muscle to regain his freedom, Randolph saw
through teary eyes the change of staff, which meant the