Claude and Gussie: Part Two



“Fine. I’m through here. Let’s walk toward the car together. You can follow me about 2 paces back,” he said.

“Yes sir. And your name please? I am Miss Gussie Thomas, a maid for the Winthrop family in Pleasantville, New York,” she said, offering both her hand and her left foot.

“My name is Claude Jefferson. I am a doctor in Greenville,” he said.

The two shook hands and then made off toward the car together. The car was a 1976 BMW sedan with all of the features. She said to herself, “This must be my lucky day.” She knew he wanted more than just cleaning; he probably wanted to “play around” two or three times. She figured she could make $2400 or so just for lying on her back.

They started going toward her home and finalizing the plan when suddenly he pulled a small .22- caliber hand gun and threatened to kill if she did not go home with him. She screamed emphatically “Help! Rape!” out of the window of the car. She kept screaming Help! Rape! Thief! until he slowed down the car beneath an underpass devoid of cars.

As he raised the gun, Gussie jumped out of the car and ran toward the lone telephone. He fired the gun. A bullet hit her leg. He fired again, three times, and hit her in the leg, back, and head. Then he heard a siren wailing. He looked behind him and saw that down the road two police cars were closing in.

He jumped back into the car and hauled ass at about 100 mph. He eluded the police and went back to his home and gathered all of his money, IDs, credit cards and passport. He pulled out an old toupee, fake mustache and beard, put all of this on, and hurriedly left the house, telling his manservant, the one with the old wrinkled head, that he must get out of the country, and fast.

He planned to flee to the South Sea Island of Malaysia and set up a practice, again. In 6 years, he figured, “I’ll be a free man.”

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