Ending my third novel

I've been struggling for weeks to find a good way of ending the third novel in my four (perhaps) book series.
   I finally got it today. It was perfect. Unfortunately I was driving at the time in Regent Street which is usually a place I would stick pins in my eyes before venturing. Not because of muggers or anything of that kind but because it's full of lunatics and fools vying with each other to find new and even more spectacular ways of killing themselves under the traffic.
  The unfortunately part was that a woman who was successfully, and quite impressively, eating an apple, talking into her mobile phone, decorating heself with make-up and, if that were not enough, threading herself sinuously through the traffic between the lights, saw me and halted.
   Her in-built radar must have caught my manic gleam of satisfaction, and presumably mistaking it for one of malice jumped out of my way. This immediately frightened a small dog which tripped an elderly man, who staggered forward, causing a child to shriek in alarm, simultaneously rousing the maternal instincts of his mother who nearly decked the old man who had by now nearly fallen down. This spectacle caused an immediate halt in the traffic nearly provoking a pile-up which in turn almost forced a truck, which shouldn't have been there anyway, to drive though the front window of a very famous toy shop.
  All in all a good day's work.