May Day! Part 26
May. 27th, 2008 11:23 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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discoveredinaljDoyle caught site of the old lady standing at the bus stop, staring dourly at them through a pair of thick-rimmed glasses and a forest of grey curls, and elbowed him away, flashing him a smile to take the edge off. Sure enough, Bodie glanced around and caught her eye, gave her a wink and shoved Doyle back, before ceding the driver’s seat and striding around to his own side.
“Williston?” Doyle asked, as they settled themselves and he turned the key with just a little more gas than necessary. Nosy old biddy.
“Might as well – all we’ve got apart from him is Seaton himself, and I don’t suppose Cowley’d be too pleased if we wake him up before ten on a Saturday.”
Doyle glanced at where his watch should have been, and then over at Bodie. Well, if he couldn’t have Bodie’s breath in his ear... He reached out and grasped Bodie’s hand, which had been lying decorously in his lap, lifted it and pulled it nearer to him, so that Bodie had to twist in his seat.
“Oi!”
“What?” he asked innocently, running his thumb over the soft skin on the underside of Bodie’s wrist. Bodie swallowed, and Doyle liked, as ever, that he’d made that happen. He turned the watch just a little further towards him, so that he could see the face more clearly, could enjoy the contact just a little bit longer, and then he released him. “Should catch the shop open now as well,” he said, letting himself smile just a bit as he glanced at Bodie. “Mind you, he’d be more amenable if we give him some time to make his first sale.”
“Meaning?” Bodie rearranged his jacket around him pointedly, pulling the sleeves back into place with a sniff.
“Breakfast?” He could feel his stomach echoing, coffee notwithstanding and even that a long time ago.
“Breakfast!” Bodie gave up his pretend offense, rubbed his hands together in delight. “I know just the caff...”
Bodie’s caff turned out to be just around the corner from Bagley Road, and they settled in at a window table, savouring the brightly lit fug, mugs of tea in hand. Bodie watched idly as Tom White wandered past twice, glancing casually in at them, and then trudged glumly back to where he’d managed to park just across the road.
“Be shift change soon,” he observed. “Wish they’d give us Ruth – or even Sandra. Might almost make it worth our while.”
“Ruth’s up in Newcastle,” Doyle reminded him as their plates arrived, raising his mug in thanks to the man who brought them over.
“Ah, cheers mate!” Bodie speared a tomato, put it in his mouth, and reached for the salt and pepper. “Yeah, she and Sherry are on the Mulligan case, aren’t they...So how do you know Foley, anyway?”
Doyle paused with a forkful of egg and toast halfway to his mouth, looked up at him quizzically.
“Well, not your usual contact, is he? I mean, Brownie’s one thing, and that Peterson bloke who lives in the sewers, but Foley?”
“Foley’s alright,” Doyle said, adding some bacon to the fork, and filling his mouth with it.
“I didn’t say he wasn’t.”
“He’s alot brighter than he made out this morning.”
“I’m sure he is.”
“Look, you wanted a snivelling grass, so he gave you a snivelling grass.”
“Actor is he?”
“As a matter of fact...”
“Where do you find them?”
Doyle grinned, lifted his plate and slid the rest of his fried potatoes onto Bodie’s by way of extra distraction.
“There’s something doesn’t fit, you know,” he said, pushing his empty plate away, and pouring himself another tea fom the pot.
“Everything?” Bodie suggested, around potato and bacon.
“Yeah...” Doyle frowned. He didn’t know what it was, but he knew there was something. Maybe seeing Williston would sort it out, but... “Come on.” Losing patience he downed the tea in a single long mouthful, and pretended to ignore Bodie’s plaintive moan.
“It’s a wonder I’ve not got indigestion, you know! Oi – what you doing?”
Doyle strode across the road to a displeased looking Tom White, who wound down his window and brightened considerably when he saw what was in the bag thrust at him. Doyle shook his head as he tucked into the bacon toastie and a styrofoam cup of coffee. “You’re looking a bit rough mate – been out all night?” he asked ingenuously, and happily ignored the two fingers Tom spared him as he wound the window back up.
He turned to find Bodie grinning approvingly behind him, and they walked up the road shoulder to shoulder. Funny how your world could fall apart and things still, somehow, be alright.
Williston’s shop was a silent glare of televisions in the window, a murmur of record players and cassette decks on shelves, and rolls and rolls of probably every type of wiring ever invented. There was a counter with a glass cabinet to one side of the room, where Williston was talking to a short, enthusiastic looking man, and a closed door at the back of the room. They fingered things randomly while Williston finished up with his customer, then, while his head was down as he made an entry in his accounts book, moved to stand either side of him, blocking both his light and his escape.
“Can I help you gentleman?” he asked, clearly startled.
“Andrew Williston?”
“Yes?” he ran his eyes up and down Doyle, then turned to Bodie and looked more impressed. “Have you come to arrest me?” he asked approvingly, and Doyle sighed and rolled his eyes. Foley’s mate. Of course.
“Maurice Seaton.”
“Clark Gable?”
Doyle smothered a grin, and said hurriedly, as he saw Bodie’s fists clench by his side, “Maurice Seaton – is he a... customer of yours?”
Williston raised his an eyebrow at the emphasis, but shook his head. “I don’t believe I know a Maurice Seaton.”
“Major Maurice Seaton,” Bodie suggested, “I think you’ll find you do.”
“In fact we know you do,” Doyle added, hoping against hope that Williston would prove an easy nut to crack.
“No,” Williston shook his head, “I read some Morris West once, but it wasn’t really my thing. Maurice Chevalier, so sad about him, but that was really quite some time ago now. But I don’t... Well except Morris – Major Morris Cowley. But I’m sure he’s far too old for either of you... What did I say?”
Doyle closed his eyes, then looked at Bodie.
Cowley.
Bloody Cowley.
“Williston?” Doyle asked, as they settled themselves and he turned the key with just a little more gas than necessary. Nosy old biddy.
“Might as well – all we’ve got apart from him is Seaton himself, and I don’t suppose Cowley’d be too pleased if we wake him up before ten on a Saturday.”
Doyle glanced at where his watch should have been, and then over at Bodie. Well, if he couldn’t have Bodie’s breath in his ear... He reached out and grasped Bodie’s hand, which had been lying decorously in his lap, lifted it and pulled it nearer to him, so that Bodie had to twist in his seat.
“Oi!”
“What?” he asked innocently, running his thumb over the soft skin on the underside of Bodie’s wrist. Bodie swallowed, and Doyle liked, as ever, that he’d made that happen. He turned the watch just a little further towards him, so that he could see the face more clearly, could enjoy the contact just a little bit longer, and then he released him. “Should catch the shop open now as well,” he said, letting himself smile just a bit as he glanced at Bodie. “Mind you, he’d be more amenable if we give him some time to make his first sale.”
“Meaning?” Bodie rearranged his jacket around him pointedly, pulling the sleeves back into place with a sniff.
“Breakfast?” He could feel his stomach echoing, coffee notwithstanding and even that a long time ago.
“Breakfast!” Bodie gave up his pretend offense, rubbed his hands together in delight. “I know just the caff...”
Bodie’s caff turned out to be just around the corner from Bagley Road, and they settled in at a window table, savouring the brightly lit fug, mugs of tea in hand. Bodie watched idly as Tom White wandered past twice, glancing casually in at them, and then trudged glumly back to where he’d managed to park just across the road.
“Be shift change soon,” he observed. “Wish they’d give us Ruth – or even Sandra. Might almost make it worth our while.”
“Ruth’s up in Newcastle,” Doyle reminded him as their plates arrived, raising his mug in thanks to the man who brought them over.
“Ah, cheers mate!” Bodie speared a tomato, put it in his mouth, and reached for the salt and pepper. “Yeah, she and Sherry are on the Mulligan case, aren’t they...So how do you know Foley, anyway?”
Doyle paused with a forkful of egg and toast halfway to his mouth, looked up at him quizzically.
“Well, not your usual contact, is he? I mean, Brownie’s one thing, and that Peterson bloke who lives in the sewers, but Foley?”
“Foley’s alright,” Doyle said, adding some bacon to the fork, and filling his mouth with it.
“I didn’t say he wasn’t.”
“He’s alot brighter than he made out this morning.”
“I’m sure he is.”
“Look, you wanted a snivelling grass, so he gave you a snivelling grass.”
“Actor is he?”
“As a matter of fact...”
“Where do you find them?”
Doyle grinned, lifted his plate and slid the rest of his fried potatoes onto Bodie’s by way of extra distraction.
“There’s something doesn’t fit, you know,” he said, pushing his empty plate away, and pouring himself another tea fom the pot.
“Everything?” Bodie suggested, around potato and bacon.
“Yeah...” Doyle frowned. He didn’t know what it was, but he knew there was something. Maybe seeing Williston would sort it out, but... “Come on.” Losing patience he downed the tea in a single long mouthful, and pretended to ignore Bodie’s plaintive moan.
“It’s a wonder I’ve not got indigestion, you know! Oi – what you doing?”
Doyle strode across the road to a displeased looking Tom White, who wound down his window and brightened considerably when he saw what was in the bag thrust at him. Doyle shook his head as he tucked into the bacon toastie and a styrofoam cup of coffee. “You’re looking a bit rough mate – been out all night?” he asked ingenuously, and happily ignored the two fingers Tom spared him as he wound the window back up.
He turned to find Bodie grinning approvingly behind him, and they walked up the road shoulder to shoulder. Funny how your world could fall apart and things still, somehow, be alright.
Williston’s shop was a silent glare of televisions in the window, a murmur of record players and cassette decks on shelves, and rolls and rolls of probably every type of wiring ever invented. There was a counter with a glass cabinet to one side of the room, where Williston was talking to a short, enthusiastic looking man, and a closed door at the back of the room. They fingered things randomly while Williston finished up with his customer, then, while his head was down as he made an entry in his accounts book, moved to stand either side of him, blocking both his light and his escape.
“Can I help you gentleman?” he asked, clearly startled.
“Andrew Williston?”
“Yes?” he ran his eyes up and down Doyle, then turned to Bodie and looked more impressed. “Have you come to arrest me?” he asked approvingly, and Doyle sighed and rolled his eyes. Foley’s mate. Of course.
“Maurice Seaton.”
“Clark Gable?”
Doyle smothered a grin, and said hurriedly, as he saw Bodie’s fists clench by his side, “Maurice Seaton – is he a... customer of yours?”
Williston raised his an eyebrow at the emphasis, but shook his head. “I don’t believe I know a Maurice Seaton.”
“Major Maurice Seaton,” Bodie suggested, “I think you’ll find you do.”
“In fact we know you do,” Doyle added, hoping against hope that Williston would prove an easy nut to crack.
“No,” Williston shook his head, “I read some Morris West once, but it wasn’t really my thing. Maurice Chevalier, so sad about him, but that was really quite some time ago now. But I don’t... Well except Morris – Major Morris Cowley. But I’m sure he’s far too old for either of you... What did I say?”
Doyle closed his eyes, then looked at Bodie.
Cowley.
Bloody Cowley.
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no subject
Date: 2008-05-27 11:16 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-05-27 12:04 pm (UTC)I'm really hoping it won't end up being a Cowley-testing-them fic though... just sayin'... *g*
no subject
Date: 2008-05-27 11:28 am (UTC)And Doyle still hasn't admitted where he first found Foley *g*
With Callisto in the driving seat, I look forward to the next part *rubs hands together*
no subject
Date: 2008-05-27 12:07 pm (UTC)You know, I've decided I'm quite fond of Foley - I might have to give him his own fic when this is all done! I've ended up with a definite idea about him and Doyle, and that's not the sort of thing that's likely to work out in a round robin!
*also rubs hands*
no subject
Date: 2008-05-27 12:42 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-05-27 12:48 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-05-27 12:52 pm (UTC)Why do I now have Hedwig and the Angry Inch in my head singing "Six inches forward five inches back?" *g* Oooh plot twists again. I see someone has already claimed else I would have played again.
It's fun to see all the threads tie back together. Bodie hadn't really asked directly about Foley and Doyle still hasn't answered. Hambel brought the keys back and Cowley is still in play!
Thanks! :D
no subject
Date: 2008-05-27 12:57 pm (UTC)Bodie did ask about Foley! He said So how do you know Foley, anyway? - it's just that he let Doyle get away with avoiding the question...
I have to admit, I was thinking it seemed too obvious now to have the one stranger left in the fic be the ultimate baddie - personally I reckon it was someone we've already seen, someone being sneaky... So now we know who they all are, we can figure out what really happened... well, that's what I reckon, anyway... *g*
no subject
Date: 2008-05-27 01:27 pm (UTC)I said he hadn't asked about Foley, I meant before this part of course. In my bit I had Doyle think he was about to ask, but he didn't.
This here "plot" business would be so much easier if we were all in the same room... or one big megabrain... Oooh... *only one cup of coffee so far*
no subject
Date: 2008-05-27 01:00 pm (UTC)I'm home, so you never know. I might want to play again this week.
*g*
Date: 2008-05-27 03:46 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-05-27 04:32 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-05-27 10:06 pm (UTC)Borrowed from the next installment *g*
Seriously, I have no idea what's happening, but it's all good!