In Trust – Bentley 42

 

[For back story go here: Story so far at 30 Nov 2020 and definitely this one.]

[Relevant back story also in embedded links.]

Bentley poured over the pictures. He also magnified them as best he could, trying to see if there had been any significant photoshopping or cutting and pasting used to convince him. If it was faked it was a very good fake. There she was in York as he expected, but when did she meet with Thimble if they had been together the whole time? There she was in Brighton, but if that were the case why hadn’t she mentioned that she’d had direct contact with Aston? Or that she’d gone into precisely the same shop that he himself had gone into? The words of ‘me and my shadow’ lilted into Bentley’s mind, but this wasn’t in any way romantic or entertaining. It just put his back up and caused him to worry for her motive.

Natalie was a young woman but even her ability to be in so many places in such short time gave Bentley pause. If she was this good at travelling around she must be receiving some serious support. She must be being given some serious motivation. Unless, again, the whole thing was fake.

“I know what it looks like,” said Bentley, “But I’m not sure what to make of it.”

“All you need to know is she can’t be trusted,” said Jeremy Knowles over the line.

“Yeah, I got that already,” said Bentley. “She said she was my granddaughter but even Shiela’s not a fan of that.”

“I think she’s something to do with Lawrence. But even then there are questions.”

“What the hell is going on?” asked Bentley aloud and probably to the world in general.

He was answered, or at least may have been about to get an answer, from Shiela whose name now flashed up on his phone’s screen. “Gotta take this,” he said to Jeremy and closed down their audio call.

“We need to move,” said Shiela immediately. “Next week.”

“Oh, OK,” said Bentley uncertainly. “Move how? We can’t actually go anywhere. And I don’t think that’ll change by next week.”

“Doesn’t matter,” said Shiela. “No one’s moving beyond where they need to go.”

“Right,” said Bentley. “Except you’re going to have to talk me through this.”

And so she did. Shiela’s plan was to move the ring which was currently in Brighton up to York. She still wouldn’t let on as to why they were going to do this, but it seemed very important and had to be done by real people rather than sticking it into an envelope and trusting some company or other. Through using Norman’s list and Bentley’s timetable Shiela intended to link together the trip, enabling permitted journeys to relay the ring north. Bentley was impressed by this even if he didn’t get why.

“What exactly does the ring do?” he asked on a slightly different tack.

“Need to know basis,” said Shiela sharply.

“But…”

“No buts,” said Shiela. “We’ll be in touch with the final timings but you need to make sure you’re across the timetables just in case we have any last minute alterations.”

Bentley hung up. He was more than usually uncertain of his next move. He had the information required, that was a given. He could step up and do the job and there would be no problem. But should he actually do it when he didn’t know what the outcome would be? He could do everything Shiela asked and still be none the wiser. Or worse still, he could do it and find himself dropped into some kind of trouble or other from a very great height.

He sighed and re-opened the audio channel with Knowles. “Something’s about to go down,” he said, “I’m not sure exactly what it is but it’s happening next week. I can give you more details if you want but I don’t even know what you can do with it.”

“I can make it worth your while,” said Knowles.

“Means nothing,” said Bentley. “Someone’s already made it worth my while without telling me to do anything. I need something more than an incentive like that.”

“I’ll get back to you,” said Knowles and rang off.

Bentley sighed and got up. He went to make a cup of tea and tripped over the cat. He saved himself by sticking his hand out but knocked a tin of biscuits off the sideboard as he did so. The tin missed the cat by a paw.