Intensive – Bentley 64

 

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

[Old back story is here: Story so far at 30 Nov 2020 and read more recent Bentley episodes especially this one.]

[Other back story through in-links.]

[If you're enjoying this you can now buy me coffee here!]

Something medical was bleeping. Lawrence found it irritating but he guessed it must be necessary or it wouldn’t be doing it. He also assumed it was doing his dad some good, although obviously he really wished it wasn’t there at all and that maybe this dad could just get up and walk around as per usual.

Things weren’t good. That was clear enough. With the shooting having occurred over a week away and Bentley still on a ventilator Lawrence didn’t require a medical opinion to know that his dad was seriously ill. That made it sound like he’d just picked something up, rather than just been gunned down.

There was a movement behind him and Shiela came in. They half-smiled at each other through their masks but nothing more. She pulled a seat over, not too close, and Lawrence obligingly moved closer to the open window. They were all in medical grade masks so the only way really to communicate was to measure they height of each other’s raised eyebrows. The result was a sympathetic, concerned and very occasionally surprised looking silent conversation. Inevitably it ended with a few words however:

“Doctors say he’s the same,” said Shiela.

“Yeah,” said Lawrence. “He’s holding on, though. Well, fighting I’d say. Not giving up.”

Shiela nodded.

“Do you know who it was?” She asked.

Lawrence shook his head. “Long gone before anyone turned up,” he said. “Couple of bystanders had half a description, but the guy was wearing a black mask and wore a black jacket. Could be anyone.”

“Probably was,” said Shiela. “And then of course they were just the hired hand. Even if you found the person who pulled the trigger you might not have found the person who wanted him dead.”

“Load of police around still,” observed Lawrence. “Or at least a few too many for my liking.”

“I thought you were one of them?” asked Shiela.

“Very funny,” said Lawrence. “They’ll have me up for impersonation if I’m not careful.”

“Oh no,” said Shiela. “You weren’t convincing enough. They’d never make the charges stick.”

Lawrence grimaced under his mask, sighed and got up. 

“Take care of him,” he muttered. “I’m going to get a coffee.”

The machine was cheap and the coffee tasted cheaper, but Lawrence had no other choice in the matter. If you wanted coffee this was as close as you were going to get. He shoved in his ten pence and waited for the cup to fall. It was only as he bent to reach the hot liquid that he noticed the person standing next to the machine.

“Worked it out yet?” asked Aston.

Lawrence came upright. “What the hell are you doing here?” he asked.

“Calling on a friend,” said Aston. “No, really. How is he? And how’s Shiela?”

“He’s not good. She’s pretty upset. Not really saying anything and that’s the worst.”

“They’ll be back, you know that right?”

“Who are they?”

“There’s a kid out there we were trying to find,” began Aston. “Shiela had something to do with him. Your old man was meant to be on his way to a meeting about it.”

“So it was a set up?”

“Yes I’d say so,” said Aston. “Either they didn’t want the meeting to happen or someone got wind of it and intervened.”

“But we don’t know who, do we?” Said Lawrence.

“I know someone who does,” said Aston. “Thing about railway stations these days, lot of cameras everywhere. Sure they might just pickup someone wearing a mask and a jacket, but sometimes, they might just be enough.”

A small ray of sunlight began to break over Lawrence’s world. There was a chance after all. He could do something that might just make a difference, something that would, at least start to bring his world back into focus. If he could find the gun man, or at least br the one whose work led to that discovery then he could forgive himself for the mess he’d made elsewhere in this family.

“What do I need to do?” Said Lawrence.

“CCTV footage,” said Aston plainly. “Very simple really. You used to do it sometimes when you worked for me in Hastings, right? All those years ago? Can’t imagine you’ve forgotten the basics.”

“I’m guessing Jeremy Knowles’ crazy golf security is a bit different from a railway station though, don’t you think?”

“Maybe different,” said Aston, “But also there’ll be bits that are the same. You just have to do your research, pick your time and know who to talk to. You can do it.”

Yes, thought Lawrence. Yes, he could do it. At last, he would step into his inheritance and solve everything.

"And what are you going to do," he asked nervously.

"I'm going to get his cat," said Aston.

“Right,” said Lawrence. “Right. Just one thing. Don’t tell my mum.”