May Day! Part 30

[byslantedlight.livejournal.com]

“The Leatherhead.”

“Eh?”

“Off Jermyn Street.”

“Ah...”

Doyle rolled his eyes. “It’s a club. Not as fancy as some of them, but it’ll take the likes of Maurice Seaton, and apparently Maurice Seaton...”

“... will take the likes of your Charlie.”

“Right. I thought he was settling down, but... he’s a constant enough guest that he’s practically a member himself.”

“Better taste in pick up joints than you’ve got, anyway. Didn’t fancy it yourself? ”

“Sod off, Bodie.”

“I’m just saying... You said he was an old mate of yours...”

“So ‘elp me, Bodie...”

“Alright...” Bodie backed down, hands raised peaceably, threw the keys across the roof of the Audi, and got in the passenger side.

“You know, we could have picked up one of the cars,” Doyle said, accelerating out of the carpark. “At least if we’re reinstated we could have a decent motor.”

“This is a good bit of kit, this!” Bodie looked affronted, “It might have been sitting around in the garage for a while, but there’s nothing wrong with it!”

“And Cowley’s planning a Christmas party to surprise us this year.”

“He could be...”

Doyle grinned, unable to help himself, was pleased when Bodie smiled back at him. They’d track down Foley, find out what was going on, burn those bloody photographs, and then take themselves home for a good long...

“Mind the bus!”

Doyle swerved, clearing the Route Master with inches to spare, and pulled up to park illegally just down the street from the Leatherhead Club.

“The only thing is,” he pulled the keys from the ignition and swung them around on his finger, thoughtfully, “What the hell’s Murphy doing with them?”

Their eyes met for a frozen moment, they looked away hurriedly.

“No.”

“No. Definitely not.”

“That envelope...”

“The pictures?”

“We’ve got the pictures.”

“We’ve got one set of the pictures...”

They sat staring at the elegant steps of the gentlemen’s club, at the red awning that fluttered gently in the breeze, at the varnished door with its neat brass plaque.

“We could see what Cowley’s got to say for himself,” Doyle gestured with the RT.

“We could, or... bloody ‘ell!”

Doyle turned, caught sight of what Bodie had seen. Maurice Seaton walking towards the club with none other than Andrew Williston. Talking calmly, they climbed the steps, opened the door, and disappeared inside.

“Told you – Cowley’s throwing us a surprise party,” Bodie muttered.

“Well he’s got a funny... fuck!” The door to the Leatherhead Club had swung open, and Andrew Williston stumbled frantically out, clutching a large brown envelope, breaking into a fast run, and pursued by Murphy.

“Go!”

May Day! Part 31

[sc-fossil.livejournal.com]

May Day! Part 31

The Audi pulled away from the kerb amidst the squeal of tyres. Doyle shifted fast enough to lay strips of rubber when he shifted from first to second and Bodie swore Doyle took the corner on two wheels.

"There!" Bodie shouted, seeing Murphy's back as he disappeared into the park ahead.

Doyle slammed on the brakes and Bodie leapt from the car before it completely stopped.

"Go 'round and cut him off at the opposite side!" Bodie shouted over his shoulder as he sprinted after Murphy. He didn't need to look back to see if Doyle did as bid. The scream of the tyres told him Doyle was already away.

The chase was on.

Bodie's feet pounded on the path as he followed Murphy. Williston had enough of a lead that Bodie couldn't see the man, so he relied on Murphy to keep track of their quarry. He zigged when Murphy zigged and zagged when his fellow agent zagged. The chase continued on various paths through gardens and hedgerows. Bodie hoped Williston would take the path that led him to where Doyle lay in wait. No such luck. He caught sight of Murphy as Murphy made the turn and cut into the hedge maze.

"Bloody hell," Bodie thought. "I hate mazes. Never can get the way of them." Still, he didn't pause, but plunged between the opening rows of thick greenery.

The hedgerow maze wasn't the largest Bodie's been in. He remembered a couple he'd tried as a young lad, only to become hopelessly lost in moments. This particular maze was tall enough to be just over his head, keeping him from seeing where Williston and Murphy had got to. He paused, listening intently. He heard the pounding of feet off to his right, so he took next turn and ran. Bodie turned left, then right, then right again, and still hadn't caught up with Murphy.

A shot rang out. Bodie turned completely around, realising the shot came from his left. He let out a disgruntled sound and used his shoulder to force his way through the branches. One wayward root caught at his right foot as he pushed through and he tumbled to the ground in the inner square of the maze.

Bodie rolled to his feet, gun in hand. Murphy stood over Williston, who had a hand clamped on his arm. Blood seeped from the bullet wound. Bodie spared a quick glance at Williston, but his gaze was immediately pulled to the squares of paper now littering the ground around their feet.

Reaching down, Bodie picked up the nearest piece and his eyes widened when he saw the subject matter of the photograph.

"Oh, no. It can't be!" Bodie said, looking over at Murphy.

"What?" Murphy asked, bending down to scoop up a picture. "Well, I'd never have believed this unless I'd seen it."

"I'm seeing it but I still don't believe it. Are these genuine?" Bodie mused.

"As real as the ones of you and Doyle."

"Ha - bloody - ha," Bodie growled, not at all amused.

"No wonder Cowley has you and your partner chasing your arses all over London."

Bodie yanked the picture from Murphy's fingers and compared the two photographs. "Your own arse hasn't exactly been lounging about, sipping tea and watching cricket."

Murphy grinned. "We make a good pair."

"Not a chance. Doyle'd have your bullocks for breakfast." Bodie returned the grin. "Speaking of which, where is my wayward partner? He's missing all the fun."

"Right here, mate," Doyle called out, entering the inner square. He cast Bodie a grin and picked up a photograph from the grass. "Christ."

"Yeah."

The three men moved closer and three pairs of eyes took in the images on the photograph.

"I'd never have believed it," Doyle admitted. "Still, she takes a dandy picture."

"Always thought she was a fine looking woman." Bodie snickered. "He doesn't photograph badly either."

"How can you tell from this angle?" Murphy asked. "Isn't that his-?"

"Looks about the same size as Doyle's," Bodie added.

"Oi!" Doyle pulled the picture away. "I'll have you know that Cowley's cock is no where near as handsome as mine!"

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(See my apology on my post on the last part.)