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Justice Served

justice-served

18th September 2016: “You said these investments were safe, Keith!  You said I can’t lose.  How come I have lost everything…all my money, and home because I was fool enough to listen to you,” stated Ian, feeling gullible for this moment in time.

“I didn’t actually say the investment was safe, now did I,” Keith replied.

Ian Hooper was finding this conversation with his investment broker, Keith Moon, exceedingly distasteful.  On top of other faults, Moon has suddenly developed a state of amnesia.

“Even if you didn’t say the word safe, you strongly implied it!”  Hooper’s voice was rising, verging on the state of Hysteria.

“Okay, okay, just calm down.  You know you should never trust a sure thing.  Didn’t you read the small print in the leaflet?  There’s always risks.”

“Screw the leaflet, I relied on what you said, not what’s printed in some leaflet, by lawyers and tax experts,” stated an irate Ian Hooper.  “You said the interest would pay my mortgage.”

“Yes, but the interest has paid your mortgage re-payments for years, but I can’t be held responsible if the market crashes, can I?”  Moon stressed firmly.

“You said investments were covered by insurance, so how come I walk away broke, homeless and in debt?”  asked Hooper trying to stay calm.

“When the market crashed, many companies went into liquidation, as is the case of this insurance company,” replied Moon trying to justify himself to his client.  “Look, I am sorry your investments did not work out this time, but it is the gamble we all take.”

“I want my money back,” stated Hooper.

“Well, naturally you want your money back.  Wouldn’t it be nice if we could all get our money back after we made a bad investment?  But it is not going to happen,” Moon spoke firmly.

“It is simple, you indicated the investment was sound, so I invested every penny I had to buy my new house, now I have lost everything…that is not acceptable,” Hooper said in a firm deliberate voice.  “I will give you one week to refund my money.

“You will give me a week.”

“That is what I said.”

“What if I don’t do what you want?”

“You won’t like what happens, I can promise you that.”

“Are you threatening me?”

“Call it whatever you please, just make sure you have my money in a week.”

Moon hung up on Hooper.  “He’s got some nerve; threatening me like that.”

26th September 2016: A week had gone by and time for being polite was now over.  Ian Hooper rang Keith Moon’s investment office’s on the hour every hour for three solid days and was told each time he was unavailable, he just couldn’t get past the secretary, some cold hearted bitch.

28th September – 4th October 2016: Enough was enough in Hooper’s mind, he started a campaign of terror aimed at Keith Moon.  First he smashed the windows of his Ferrari, and then scratched it deeply with a screwdriver, where it stood outside his Hampstead home.  Night by night more damage was caused, windows broken, rubbish tipped in front garden, wall knocked down, gate torn from its hinges, and still he would not take my calls or pay the money he owed.  No amount of damage seemed to stir him.

Finally Hooper left a message on Moon’s answering machine.  “I have nothing to lose you have taken everything.  If I can’t have a home neither can you… 24hours to pay up, or you can join the ranks of the homeless!”

Moon treated the threat with the contempt it deserved; ignoring it.

5th October 2016:  Keith Moon awoke to a blackness so thick he feared he was blind, as if he was being buried alive.  His heart was hammering, his lungs burning.  His house was on fire.  A voice spoke, “I warned you.”  He recognised it straight away as that of Ian Hooper.

Holding out his hand, hoping to avoid a collision with the wall, making his way across the room.  The thick velvet curtain across the window was smouldering.

As Moon paused to gaze at the face of Hooper standing by the doorway, “Why?”

Hooper, looked on and smiled, for he had his justice on Moon.

Moon could see the moonlight shining through the glass door.  He had no alternative but to throw himself through the door, scrambling to his feet, turned and stood motionless still watching his house burn… A feeling of helplessness, washed over him.

Moon ran over the gravel driveway, to the road fully aware of the gravel pinching into his bare feet.

There he sat watching his dream house burn, amidst the sound of flashing lights and fire brigade vehicles, spraying water.

A shrill cry sounded out.  Moon’s brain kicked in, realising it was his mobile phone.

“Hello?”

“How does it feel to be homeless?” Ian Hooper spoke, those being his final words.  For he had his justice on the man who took everything from him!

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