DIMMER

by Bill Reed

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DIMMER

by Bill Reed

If you’re the head of a crime family, it wouldn’t seem the best thinking to send along the only grossly short-sighted one of your 23 sons to kidnap the guy. The upshot was Dimmer, the son, had to ask the victim what colour he was before he could dim-sightedly identify him. And then, having become a kidnapper, couldn’t identify an ATM from a security guard, and couldn’t distinguish the bank’s interior from his own family’s den, nor even the bank manager’s coat rack from his own father.
It wasn’t Dimmer’s fault entirely. If there had been dense smoke from a fire there or an impenetrable fog, he would have been able to see just as well, if not better, than any of his brothers, kidnapping or no kidnapping. It wasn’t for nothing that his services were in high demand, say, at sea in thick foggy conditions when captains far preferred him aloft to relying on any radar or down mines when the lights have gone out.
The bank manager already had the victim in thrall anyway.