The Greater Fool

  But that cannot be the future; there’s only one way this can end. There’s just a single path to redemption, and I must take it.

  And so it is that I crouch down, wrap my arms around Mutch’s knees, and hump his semiconscious weight farther over the edge so that he’s on the verge of toppling over. I glance down at the waiting black cabs, the policeman, and Boris the Club doorman, all of them tiny and silent in Pall Mall far below. I lie on top of the soon-to-be late Detective Inspector Mutch, wrap my arms around his neck, close my eyes, and pull us both over the edge.

  The End

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  The Greater Fool

  About Joseph Hannay

  Joseph Hannay worked in London for more than twenty years. He now lives quietly in Surrey with his wife and two children. He enjoys (and admires) the work of Ian McEwan, Graham Swift, Richard Ford, J.M. Coetzee, and many others.

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