'Just calm down Marty. I'll be right over, and, and, don't worry - I'll think of something'.

'Shit,' Jack Ryan exclaimed as he slammed down the receiver. How many times was this? Was Marty ever not in trouble? And why did he, Jack, still feel so responsible? Well, this time it wouldn't be so easy, this time Marty had gone too far.

The two brothers had little in common. Jack managed a small electronics business and was paying off his house. Marty had never worked - that Jack knew of - and lived literally from one social security payment to the next.

Jack also looked younger than his thirty years, regularly working out at the local gym, wheras Marty, who was five years Jack's junior, looked tired and worn from years in reform schools and detention centres.

After their parents were killed in a car accident when the boys were still at school Jack had adapted well to life with foster parents but Marty couldn't, or wouldn't try.

And now Marty was in trouble again. This time he owed money. A lot of money. Jack wasn't stupid. He knew the kind of people Marty like to hang out with. This time he didn't know if he'd be able to help his brother.

Locking the house he headed outside. If only I could get Marty away from here, he thought, as he opened the mailbox and retrieved a handful of envelopes. At the first set of lights he sifted through his mail and paused at an official looking letter embossed with some sort of crest.

Before he could open it he was tooted from behind. Jack drove off with one hand on the wheel as he struggled to tear open the envelope. Finally he retrieved a letter. From the Lotteries Office. He had won the lottery.

'$250,000 - I've won $250,000!' he yelled as he pulled off the road unannounced amid a blast of horns. He was relieved to find the winning ticket still intact inside his wallet, secreted within the leather folds where only he could find it.

This windfall would solve all Marty's problems, Jack thought as he slipped back into the traffic. Now he could buy that new car he'd been thinking about, and pay off the mortgage.

His options were growing more attractive by the minute and he marvelled at how quickly he arrived at Marty's dilapidated block of flats on the other side of town.

In his haste to see his brother, Jack didn't hear the approaching steps of a person who brushed quickly past him outside the building. Jack glanced back as the stranger took off across the lawn and jumped into a black BMW. I'll get one just like that, Jack thought as he turned towards the entrance.

Climbing the stairs two by two until he reached the third floor landing, he was surprised to find Marty's door slightly ajar. When Marty didn't answer his knock, Jack pushed it open and went in.

Marty was lying on his back on the living room floor, his eyes glazed, a syringe protruding from his left arm. Jack raced to the telephone.

He sat with Marty for twenty minutes until the ambulance arrived, terrified he would lose his brother this time, his stomach in knots.

And then at the hospital, Marty was pronounced dead.

Despite all of his problems Jack had believed there was hope for his brother; that somehow, one day he would turn Marty's life around. After all, they were brothers, flesh and blood.

He sat stunned as the police asked him countless questions.

No, he wasn't aware his brother had access to drugs.

No, he hadn't planned to visit him today but Marty had called and asked him to come over. And no, he definitely didn't believe his brother committed suicide.

Suddenly Jack remembered the person running from Marty's apartment block.

'I saw a person leaving the building as I arrived. He almost knocked me over as he raced out. When I got upstairs Marty's door was open.'

'Can you describe this person, Mr Ryan?' asked the police officer.

'I didn't get a good look but he was tall and, you know, all muscles. He ran pretty fast across the lawn and jumped into a black BMW.'

'Perhaps he was just running late for an appointment Mr Ryan. It doesn't give us much to go on.'

Jack didn't like the officer's attitude. 'I know Marty had gambling debts and that he'd been threatened. I was hoping I could help him, somehow.'

The officer looked suspiciously at Jack but said, 'we'll make some inquiries, Mr Ryan, but at this stage it really looks like suicide. Perhaps his debts simply got too much for him.'

Jack picked up Marty's meagre belongings, his empty wallet and a ring his parents had given him as a child, and walked slowly out to his car. He knew Marty - he gambled a little, sometimes a lot. But he never took drugs. He couldn't afford it, for a start.

Sleep didn't come easily for Jack that night. He lay awake for hours staring out the window into the night, thinking about their childhood, their parents.

After their death he had promised Marty he would always be there for him. This time he wasn't. This time he was too late.

By the early hours of the morning Jack had convinced himself that Marty had been murdered. And somehow, he would find out by whom.

Weary, but determined, he stumbled out of bed and dressed, left the house and headed across town, again.

Overwhelmed by regret Jack had temporarily forgotten the lucky lottery ticket. But as he put the key in Marty's front door he reached for his wallet and looked inside. Yes, the ticket was still there.

Sadly he replaced it. What did it matter now anyway?

The bright blue and white police tape was lying flat outside Marty's door. It was obvious the police weren't taking Jack's pleas seriously. And the apartment was in the same disarray as it always was. Jack navigated through the piles of clothes and take-away pizza boxes on the floor looking for something, anything to prove that he was right.

He searched each room, opening cupboards and crouching down to look under each piece of furniture. As he was about to give up he spotted a crumpled piece of paper in an overflowing ashtray.

"Big Jim" was printed in Marty's handwriting. Who was Big Jim?

When he reached home Jack called his office to say he wouldn't be in for a few days and then grabbed the yellow pages, searching for private investigators.

Finding a total stranger would be difficult enough, but if this guy was a killer then finding him was a job for someone else.

Most of Jack's calls were answered rudely by investigators unimpressed by the early hour. Finally he spoke to someone who was able to identify "Big Jim" as "Jim Griggs" a local businessman. But he wasn't so eager to help.

'Sorry mate, I wouldn't get involved for quids. You'll have to try someone else.'

Finally Jack was given the name and number of someone who might be willing to help. Alan Dredge. Investigator and sometime bouncer.

After carefully detailing the events of the previous day and Marty's history, Dredge asked him a few questions.

'Have you been to the police?'

'They're convinced Marty committed suicide - there's no point talking to them again. I need to know who killed Marty and I'll pay for the information'.

Unaccustomed as Jack was to this type of situation, he thought he handled himself well. Dredge was eager to get started and told Jack he'd get back to him in a couple of days. Jack wondered what he would do with the information - once he got it. But he knew he had to know.

Marty's funeral was a small affair consisting of Jack, three of Marty's racing buddies and a teary eyed Lainie Reilly who introduced herself as Marty's girlfriend.

Jack had noticed the attractive blonde at the front of the chapel sobbing quietly throughout the service and offered her a lift home.

'I'm an actress, temporarily out of work. Marty and I met at a bar a few weeks ago. I just can't believe he's gone,' Lainie sobbed, 'I really thought we had something, you know.'

'He didn't mention you,' Jack said reaching for a handkerchief for her, 'but then I really didn't know Marty's friends.'

It was comforting to know that someone else was upset by Marty's death and over a glass of scotch Jack confided to Lainie his desire to revenge his brother's death.

Lainie agreed with the idea. Marty didn't deserve to die, she said. As Jack pulled a business card from his wallet the winning lottery ticket fell to the floor.

Sadly he told Lainie about his win, how it would have meant so much to Marty. Maybe she would go out with him some time. Lainie suggested dinner at her place, the following night.

Dredge called Jack the next morning and confirmed that Jim Griggs was indeed behind his brother's murder. He worked from an address down on the river.

Just as Dredge had told him, the business was fronted by what looked to be a genuine veterinary clinic.

Jim Griggs owned a number of racehorses purchased whilst still an honest vet. But these days he was better known in racing circles for more illegal pursuits.

Jack remembered reading about James Griggs. How he had spent years on the wrong side of law and had never been caught. Well now he could add murder to his list of accomplishments, thought Jack.

He mailed a cheque to Dredge, hoping he had enough in the bank to cover it. Suddenly he remembered the lottery ticket and took it out his wallet. Relieved, he promised himself to take care of it first thing in the morning.

'I don't really have any ideas,' Jack said to Lainie over dinner later that night, 'but Marty deserves better than a cheap burial. This "Big Jim" guy should pay.'

'Yeah, I agree. You should destroy him, that's what you should do,' said Lainie confidently.

'I know, but where do I start? Jack replied.

'Hit him where it hurts.'

'But I don't know anything about gambling. All I know is electronics,' Jack shrugged.

'Well, why don't you do something with the electrics at his place, you know the wiring or computers or something?'

'How?' asked Jack, 'the place is sure to be alarmed - and there's probably a security guard.'

'I'll take care of the security guard,' Lainie replied confidently, 'I'll just use my acting ability to distract him while you break in.'

Jack looked at Lainie with respect.

'You'd do that for me?' he asked.

'For Marty, Jack, for Marty,' Lainie replied, reaching for another tissue.

Lainie looked to be in her early twenties and had a pretty face. Jack hadn't failed to notice her great body either. He hoped she was attracted to him too.

But right now though he needed to think. To formulate a plan that was free from risk - if such a plan existed. Maybe he could do something with the electricals, he thought. Lainie might have an idea there.

Rewire the circuits maybe? Better still, why not start an electrical fire? Yes, that was a better idea, much quicker and cleaner. He'd be able to get out before the fire even started and be on his way.

The thought of all Big Jim's records and equipment going up in smoke brought a smile to Jack's face for the first time in days. And a fire would cover up any suspicions. He shared his idea with Lainie who was enthusiastic.

'The police would think it was arson and Griggs won't report the incident and risk being caught,' Jack said between mouthfuls as Lainie listened intently, nodding in agreement.

They decided the next Tuesday night would be a good time to carry out their plan and in preparation spent several nights watching the business from a parked car a few metres away.

During the day Jack made discreet inquiries to security firms and a friend at the Council provided him with plans of the building. Finally a large security firm confirmed they had installed a system for Griggs.

Fortunately Jack had installed a similar system at his own office and knew he would have no trouble disarming it. The security box was just inside the back roller door which, Jack discovered, was secured by two large padlocks.

He would need bolt cutters to cut the chain that held the padlocks, while Lainie occupied the guard. Once inside he would have just fifteen seconds to disarm the security system.

As Tuesday approached Jack spent more time at the gym each day, working out. And although he was nervous, his determination was strong. In fact he was looking forward to the challenge.

Lainie seemed excited about her part in the adventure and at the last minute suggested they hire a car for the evening, for anonymity.

With Jack crouched in the back seat of the small dark green sedan Lainie drove them to the veterinary clinic and parked out front. Jack waited nervously as Lainie wandered up to the security guard, a friend's cat cradled in her arms.

'Excuse me, is this the vet?' asked a weepy and heavily disguised Lainie to the security guard.

'I'm sorry lady, the clinic closes at six. You'll have to come back tomorrow.'

Lainie looked at her watch. 'But isn't there an emergency number?' she pleaded, stroking the cat's ginger fur, 'she's not well - I couldn't bear to lose her.'

Jack took one last look at Lainie's Academy Award winning performance before slipping out of the car and around the back of the building. His gloved hands swiftly cut the chain and he slid the padlocks off.

He snapped the padlocks and lifted the roller door a metre or so. Within seconds he was inside the building. Quickly he located the alarm quickly and disarmed it, with only seconds to spare.

Perspiration was dripping down his face as Jack's eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness. He made his way through the offices and located the switch box on a far wall half hidden by a filing cabinet.

But something was wrong.

The offices were bare. The desks were empty. No computers, no paperwork.

Quickly he checked the filing cabinets. They too were empty. The offices had been cleaned out. Someone had known he was coming, but who?

Jack started to panic. He had to get out and fast. Jogging back to the open roller door he was suddenly struck from behind.

Dizzy but half conscious he slid to the ground as a sharp pain raced through his left arm. Without warning his body started to stiffen as desperately he tried to move his arms.

Stricken with terror Jack found himself totally immobile. Paralysed.

As he lay on the floor a dark figure appeared, scattering papers and pouring liquid over everything. Jack recognised the smell of petrol just before he passed out.

Jack's unconscious body was rolled over and his wallet extracted before the dark figure escaped through the roller door, igniting the room behind him with the flick of a match.

The fire brigade took only minutes to respond but were unable to save the burning building. The police arrived seconds later.

A police officer turned to the big and burly security guard.

'They've only recovered one body. Can you tell us who was inside the building this evening?'

'Only Mr Griggs, as far as I know,' replied the guard. 'He was doing his paperwork - he always does his paperwork on Tuesdays.'

The officer looked up from the notes he was taking. 'Not Jim Griggs?' he asked, incredulously.

The security guard nodded gravely as the officer's partner joined them. 'The coroner says it'll be impossible to identify the body - burnt beyond recognition.'

'Apparently it was Big Jim Griggs.'

His partner looked impressed.

'I'll just take a few more particulars if you don't mind, Mr ...?' the first officer said, turning back to the security guard.

'Dredge, D-R-E-D-G-E.'

'And you didn't see anything unusual?'

'I was patrolling the other end of the building when I smelled smoke and by the time I arrived down here the building was well alight.'

'I opened the roller door but the flames were too fierce. Poor Mr Griggs. There was nothing I could do.'

'Horrible way to go,' the officer remarked to his partner as they made their way back to their car.

'Griggs was a nasty piece of work,' his partner replied, 'the Chief will be pleased to wrap this one up.'

Dredge smiled to himself as he walked over to the black BMW where Lainie was waiting. He pulled the door closed and in the darkness she threw her arms around him.

'We did it Dredgy, we did it. And Mr Griggs will be so appreciative! Did you get the ticket?'

Dredge nodded as he opened Jack's wallet and searched inside. The winning lottery ticket had been hidden well.

'Just as well we kept an eye on him Dredgy - it would have been awful if he'd cashed it in already,' Lainie remarked.