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Thompson’s Lost Plimsole

Part 21

Charles was jolted from his dream by the screams of the miscreant a few beds away. The nurses were trying to roll him over in order to attend to his dressings. The young constable was nowhere to be seen, probably having taken this opportunity to disappear for a smoke break, and away from the constant moaning and whining of his prisoner. The two nurses finished their duties and wheeled their surgical trolley through the swing doors. The doors swung closed, then opened slightly and then closed to the point where the natural order of closure would normally take place.  Suddenly, they were simultaneously thrust open again and held there, as two imposing figures blocked the opening. Each man at least six and a half feet of solid bulk. Donald and Derek Dray, the Dray twins.

The only way that you could tell the twins apart was by the identical scars on their alternate cheeks. They both took a step forward and released the doors, which failed to swing this time. This was due to the fact that the doors had slammed into the face of the police constable who had just been standing behind the twins, rendering him unconscious. Donald and Derek appeared to glide into the ward, as if the floor beneath them was moving. They arrived at the end of the bed containing their associate and waited for him to stop screwing his eyes up in pain and to notice their arrival. The former monk stopped groaning long enough to thank the twins for coming to see him and asked them to sit down. Donald took the seat next to the bed, Derek looked around and could see a chap sitting in a wheelchair. He promptly removed the bloke from his wheelchair, placed him on a nearby occupied bed and told the bloke to shut it or he’d extend his stay in hospital. He then sat down in the recently vacated wheelchair and wheeled himself to the opposite side of the monk’s bed.

“Alright, Benny?” asked Donald. “Are they looking after you? Mum sends her best wishes, she’s baking you a cake, she knows how much you like her cakes”. “The boys have had a whip round”, said Derek, “It’ll help your Mrs out whilst you are in here and of course, it goes without saying that we’re relying on you to keep quiet”. “I wouldn’t say anything at all” Benny quickly replied, “you know that, boys, you can trust me to keep shtum, I just don’t know which way to turn”. Alarmed at this comment, both men rose to their feet and loomed over Benny. “Now Benny” said Donald, “You’re not going to make us sorry for trusting you, are you?”. Again, Benny was quick to reply, “No, what I meant was, that I don’t know which way to turn. I can’t lie on my back because of the bullet wound in my arse, I can’t lie on my side because my leg is in the air, I can’t…” Derek cut him off. “You tit. We thought you meant you were going to spill the beans”. The twins laughed and Benny gave a half-hearted pained smile and then winced as his broken nose let him know that smiling was not on the menu at this present moment. “Right, we’re off” said Donald, “We’ve got a bit of tidying up to do at the shop. We’ll make sure someone comes to visit you every day and if there’s any trouble with that copper, you let us know. We’ve got a couple of friends at the police HQ who’ll sort things out for us”.

Benny thanked the boys for coming to see him and as they left his bedside, he resumed his groaning. Derek took the wheelchair with them and as they reached Mr Twist’s bed, the twins stopped and stared intently at him for a few moments. Charles found this business very disquieting, and for all of his past bravery, these were big men and with his false leg removed and a bullet wound in his shoulder, he was in no position to defend himself. However, Donald and Derek turned away from him and exited through the swing doors. The twins picked up the still unconscious police constable and placed him in the wheelchair. About twenty yards along the corridor, there was a branch to the right which was approximately fifty yards long and had a slight incline. The arrow on the wall pointed towards the mortuary. The twins looked at each other, then gave the wheelchair a gentle push, just enough to send it on its way.  


Published by crispinunderfelt

All round good egg. Humanist and red wine drinker.

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