Catnapped at gunpoint – Bentley 54

[For a quick guide go here: Quick guide.]

[There's some back story here: Story so far at 30 Nov 2020 and read more recent Bentley episodes especially this one.]

[Other back story through in-links.]

Things were complicated. Guns were drawn. Bentley had opened a joint audio channel. Just to keep track.

“I’ve killed before,” said Aston to Bentley and partly to Lawrence.

“I know,” said Bentley. 

“So have I,” snarled Lawrence, keen not to be left behind.

“Seriously?”’ asked Bentley, taken aback.

“Well… you know,” said Lawrence.

“Is this about the gerbil?” said Bentley, astonished.

“No, no, not the gerbil - that was an accident, why don’t you believe that that was an accident? The other time.”

“Oh. Oh. Doncaster?” said Bentley. “He didn’t die.”

 “Nearly did,” said Lawrence. “Definitely counts.”

“Does it hell,” said Bentley. “The rules of killing someone is based on 'are they alive or dead when you’ve stopped doing whatever it is you were doing to them’. There isn’t an in between state. That’s by definition not killing someone. You can’t be 80 pay cent alive and 20 dead.”

He looked back up at Aston. “Sorry for my son,” he said. “Stupid as custard. I blame his mother.”

“I heard that,” said Shiela over the audio channel. “It’s your fault you wouldn’t pay the school fees.”

“The damage was already done,” snapped back Bentley.

“Oi!” said Lawrence.

“ I taught him A level maths!” said Shiela.

“If you’ve quite finished with this,” came Norman’s voice over the line, “I have a gun...”

“So have I!” three others chimed in.

“...and this is no time for domestics.”

“There never was any time,” said Shiela, “That’s where we went wrong, Bentley.”

“Wish we’d kept this on squawk now,” muttered Bentley. “Right,” he said aloud, “Let’s get this sorted. Let’s all just take a deep breath and slowly lower our weapons to the floor.”

“No,” said Aston.

“No,” three others chimed.

“Right, good. Glad we did that,” said Bentley. “So I take it you want the key, Aston? the key to the box, right?”

“Right,” said Aston.

“Well, to be clear right now it isn’t here. I need to get it - if I’m going to get it, and I’m only going to get it if we get to the bottom of why you want it.”

“The contents of the box,” said Aston, “is mine.”

“But what is it?”

There was a pause. “Birth certificate,” said Aston. ‘That’s all I’m going to say.”

Except it wasn’t. Gradually it emerged that the birth certificate had been put into its box many years ago and there were legal instructions, that the box would not be opened without both the key and a certain ring in evidence. A ring with three diamonds set among small jet stones. This approach had been established by the last holder of the birth certificate, although Aston would not go so far as to say either who it was who had the birth certificate, nor who the birth certificate pertained to. He just said it was valuable to him and therefore he should have it. Moreover, the current deadlock of fire arms pointing at otherwise innocent people would entirely make his intention come to pass. If not he could order each person to be wasted without recrimination and finally, he told Bentley he’d find the key and that would be that.

“Why did you give me the ring?” he asked. “And who was it you shot in the back of the store, when I was there, when you gave me the ring?”

“Firstly,” said Aston, “It was a mistake. Secondly, you’ll never know. And you don’t need to know. And your life would be ten times worse if you did know.”

“You can’t make that decision for me,” said Bentley.

“That particular ball is in my court,” said Aston. “You have no choice.”

There was a sudden scuffle heard over the audio line. From the sounds of it Norman has dropped his guard and Natalie was making an attempt at overthrowing him. Bentley shouted at her to stop, to calm down and be peaceful but it was to no avail. There was a gunshot.

“Natalie!” screamed Bentley.

Aston took advantage of the distraction. With a shout he kicked the gun out of Lawrence’s hand, picked up a chair with one hand and brought it crashing down over the man's shoulders. Aston then reached out and grabbed the cat, finally levelling his gun at Lucky’s head. 

“Where is the key?” said Aston.

Bentley was still distracted by what was happening down the line which was now deathly silent.

“Natalie? Natalie!”

He could only hear heavy breathing. Not the good kind.

“The key,” said Aston, waving the cat erratically towards Lawrence who was trying to get up off the floor.

“Don’t!” said Bentley. “Don’t kill the cat.”

“The cat,” said Aston slowly. “It’s in the sodding cat.”

“I’m alright,” sobbed Natalie at the other end of the line. “He’s unconscious.”

Aston turned and walked out the room with the cat under his arm.

“Wait!” said Bentley. “You’ll need a carrier. You won’t get anywhere trying to take her like that – she’ll have your hand off and be away.”

And so Aston left, with cat, cat food, a Tupperware box of cat litter and Bentley’s wish that he’d have a good time in his continuing search.

When he’d gone Bentley turned to Lawrence.

“Fat lot of good you are,” he said.

"Is the key really in the cat?" asked Lawrence.

"What do you think?" asked Bentley.

"Dunno. That's why I'm asking."

“Hello?” came the voice of Jeremy Knowles. “Can I put this gun down now?”