Good Boy

Man walking dog at night story picture

“Here, boy!”
But it was too late, and Henry watched in dismay as his Labrador scrambled through a gap in the train yard fence, and chased after the rabbit.
“Stupid dog,” he muttered, squeezing himself through the broken wire-mesh until he stood on the other side, peering into the moonlit darkness.  “George!” he hissed.  The dog barked excitedly to his left, so Henry walked gingerly over the weedy rail tracks towards a cluster of huts.  He followed a path around the huts but then stopped.  In front of him, scarcely fifteen feet away, stood two cars, their headlights lighting up a clearing where four men stood.  Two of the men were talking angrily.
“That’s not what we agreed!”
“I don’t give a f*ck what we agreed. This is the new price!”
“Then we don’t have a deal,” said the first speaker, turning to go, but the second pulled out a gun and shot him twice in the back of the head.  He fell senseless to the ground, blood spurting onto the grey dust. For a split second, nobody moved, but then in a thunderous flurry of activity, more guns were pulled out and shots exchanged, until finally all four men lay motionless on the ground.
Henry watched the scene in stunned silence until he felt a damp nose nuzzle his leg.  He looked down to see George looking up at him, trembling.  He reached down and stroked the dog’s head. “It’s OK,” he whispered. “All done. Good boy.”  George licked his hand.
They waited a few more minutes before Henry slowly ventured forward, followed reluctantly by his dog.  He stepped carefully between the men, checking for any signs of life, and was about to examine the cars when he saw a leather briefcase lying on the ground.  He picked it up and opened it to find it filled with used banknotes.  He let out a long whistle and closed it again.
“Well, George,” he said.  “Can't leave this lying here.”
The pair made their way back in the dark to the hole in the fence, and headed home, Henry clutching the briefcase.  His mind raced with thoughts: Had he left any clues behind? Should he not report the incident to the police instead?  What would his wife May say?  What would they do with over a million quid? He could stop working and finally make something of his life.  He smiled wryly at the thought of handing in his notice to that son of a bitch boss of his.
They arrived at his house, and Henry put the briefcase down on the porch before entering through the front door.  He had decided that the question of the money would need to be broached carefully with his wife.
“Where the hell have you been?” asked an angry female voice from the kitchen.  His wife entered the hallway and glared at him.
“Well hello to you too, May,” replied Henry. “We had a bit of an incident on the way. George…”
“Never mind about that!” interrupted his wife.  “Did you remember to get the peaches from the 24-hour Tesco?”
“What? Er, no, see…”
“You bloody idiot!” shouted May. “I need those peaches for the cake for tomorrow’s church jumble sale.  It’s always the same with you - head in the clouds.  Must I do everything myself?”
Henry held up his hands. “All right May, calm down!  I’ll go out now and get them. Coming, George?”
George’s ears pricked up at the sound of his name and then he bounded with excitement at the prospect of a bonus walk.  Henry attached the dog’s leash to his collar, waved at his scowling wife and slammed the front door behind him.  He stood for a moment on the porch, seething with anger, but then remembered the briefcase.  He stooped to pick it up.
“Well George, I hear they have rabbits in Australia.  How does that sound to you?”
George barked.