The Conspired Son (Chapter 1 - Uncut)
Posted: Monday, October 31, 2011
by MKDS
Storm Multi-Media Technologies Ltd
As promised on all my personal Blogs, Websites and Conduits, the exclusive release of the controversial First Chapter of "The Conspired Son" has been grantes a reprieve and as such I now post its contents for the consideration of the WryteStuff Community - Please be AWARE there is a medium amount of Maturity within the main body of the Chapter. As from 9pm GMT today 31/10/11 "The Conspired Son" will have its very own BlogSpot on the Internetwork before it is Submitted for Publication on completion of the 3rd Chapter. Please Comment after reading, Rate it, too, if you wish, but most of all - Please enjoy.
1.
The Arrival
In a tidy office on the East Wing of the Houses of Parliament, upon an old dusty Cabinet Minister’s desk, there sat a most unusual tarnished silver trophy. The dull light that penetrated the thick Victorian made curtains had the tarnished body almost disappear within the rooms shadows. At the base of the stem there were letters, not completely readable, but clear enough to make out the name of the person that it was awarded.
Leeds Town Hall, West Yorkshire, England.
“Jesus Christ! Martin! What the hell were you thinking?” There came the rolling anger of Sir. Kenneth Massey. “We’re already in a pile of shit, because of you, just don’t think that the buck stops anywhere else but with you.”
The man he was referring to was Martin Chatterwick, assistant to one of the largest House Seats in the Commons. By night he was the envy of all the Parliament Members with his prestigious lifestyle, while by day, his job were filled with the responsibilities of a Law Lord – A very good Law Lord at that.
“I told you, Kenneth, the cat is still in the bag! There is really nothing to worry about, I assure you.” Martin spoke with confidence high in his tone.
The two men sat opposite one another in a small office that was made up of all the creature comforts a Councillor would need for their day. With Kenneth, the décor was matching with the attitude he had for his work and the feel of that old school headmaster fear as you walked inside.
“Our business will be concluding very shortly, Martin, you are aware of that?”
“Kenneth. Kenneth, Kenneth, Kenneth! We agreed at the beginning, one in, all in, my man. I can’t have you running around Parliament with the information that you have on me, oh no, I have plans for you Kenneth.”
Martin was now starting to show his true colours, as the more Kenneth pleaded for the blackmailing to stop, the more Martin came to enjoy the aging man cry into his hands across his table. Only when there was the shallow knock on the door did Martin snap out of his devilish behaviour and concentrate on making Kenneth more at ease with himself.
“I can’t believe you are doing this, Martin, I served your father, you know?”
“Yes, of course you did, my old friend. Well, I have to get off and at least look as though I’m doing something for the country, I trust you will be at the party this evening?”
Martin didn’t need to wait for the answer, as he already knew that Kenneth would be attending the party. What Martin had on him was something that could only go one of two ways.
Briarsdale Cottage, Tollingham, Wethershield.
Upon ringing the doorbell of the small secluded cottage out in the picturesque countryside, Martin was greeted by a young woman wearing some form of kaftan. Though she was still young, there was something odd about her walk.
“Rose, how are you?” Martin asked, kissing her lightly on each cheek.
“I’m very well, Martin, you know me?” She replied with a childish giggle.
“Are you ready for the party?”
“Of course, I’m always ready for a party, Martin you should know that by now. When will the nice but dim fiancé be arriving at this Lover’s Ball?”
Rose Bentley, the Chief Magistrate of The Courts of Justice’s, was one, if not THE most powerful women Judge’s in the land, but she was also THE most jealous women when it came to Martin’s private life.
“Hey! Come on, what did I tell you? My wife is a little on edge at the moment as it is without you wanting to put on a show of Play Misty for Me! Just do as I tell you and do your part in all of this, or I will go to someone else who can!”
Martin was being serious. The only reason’s that Martin had Rose melting in front of him, was so that he could get information of top cases passing her way. It was something that Rose had no real choice in sharing, as Martin had collected enough evidence on her when she was seduced by him some several years ago. And, only now, does he want help from the one person he doesn’t care about.
“You’re one heartless…!”
“Hey! Come on, try to play nice, or I might take that as some form of mutiny on your part, Rose.”
Martin was now done. His deeper than usual loud voice told the woman that he was more than serious about the entire thing, and that if anything were to occur that was not in the plan, then severe consequences would swiftly follow.
“I don’t think it is safe you coming round here anymore, Martin, and it’s not that I don’t dread the time when eventually you’ll have no purpose or use for me. But we both know that there is only one way out of this mess, don’t we?”
There may have been only one way possible way for Rose to get out of her involvement with Martin, but for the Law Lord himself there were many ways in which to escape the prospects of prosecution for that which he and Rose were about to do. Already, Martin had put into place his route of avoiding the unthinkable, if and when it happened. For now, all he wanted from Rose was to know that she was ready to do her part – and to do it well.
“The Minister will be arriving with his aid, Mr’s. Farrington at around two-thirty, Kenneth will arrive half an hour before them to get himself ready to do his part. If I was you Rose, I’d go get ready and stop thinking about the plan going south.”
The thought that Martin was planning something else came to Rose’s mind, but as always, she had to remain silent for the sake of being left alone and not questioned anymore. “I’ll be ready in ten minutes.”
Giving a wide victorious-like smile Martin stood to his feet, straightened his tie and walked over to the front door showing a smug grin. As soon as he reached out for the handle he paused, turned and got the attention of Rose.
“Oh, and by the way, after all this is finished with I want you and Kenneth out of the country for a while. It’s not open for discussion, I insist, OK?”
Rose said nothing, responding only with a single nod of her head and slight forced smile before disappearing from the room and up the stairs to her bedroom. Martin left the house and made his way back to his car which was parked outside where he suddenly noticed a tall, well-dressed man stood sitting on the bonnet as though caught up in deep thought.
“Can I help you?” Martin asked dryly, angry that the stranger had no thought for the paint work upon the car.
The man broke his train of thought and leant forward and off of the car. “Are you the new Counsellor?”
Nodding his head from side to side, it was then that Martin recognised the man.
“You’re the village idiot, aren’t you, the man who moans about everything?”
The man in question was Carl Vaughn, the villager’s last choice spokesperson who they nominated as a speaker when other representatives failed in their search for local government action. For Carl, addressing anyone of authority was not his strong point.
“Is that what you pen-pusher’s call me these days?” He hissed in objection.
“I believe its preferential treatment just for you Mr Vaughn and only for you.” Martin laughed sarcastically while reaching out for the handle to car door.
Carl walked around the car to stop Martin from getting into the vehicle, putting a hand out and taking a hold of Martin’s arm. “Wait!”
Turning to face Carl, Martin showed an expression of objection.
“Take your hand off me, Carl, or I’ll have you arrested. What is it that you want? You know I can’t help you as an individual, only as a group with the rest of the Counsellors.” Martin gasped.
“I want you to leave Rose alone.”
This undoubtedly got Martin’s attention. He had no idea that there would be a single person in the village who would have her best interests at heart, especially not someone the likes of Carl Vaughn.
“Rose!” He exclaimed.
“I know…I know that there is no love between you and Rose, so why do you torture her the way you do? Leave her alone and I promise I won’t go any further than this moment with a complaint.” Carl threatened.
“Tell me, Carl, does Rose know you are supporting her in this?”
“She doesn’t even know I exist sometimes because of your hold over her. What hold you have, I have no idea, but I’m telling you to leave her alone or I will take it over your head and go to your superiors and have them deal with it.”
If there was ever a moment when Martin felt threatened, it would be this very moment in time and it was something that made him feel uncomfortable, too. Here was Carl threatening him over Rose, when in a few hours the Minister would be attending the Tollingham Venture, where Rose would be involved in a key conspiracy to discredit him in front of all the residents. Even so, Martin felt intimidated, threatened and irritated by this jealous man standing before him.
“I really do advise you to turn around and walk away, Mr Vaughn, before you say something that you will regret.” Martin scowled.
With this Carl lunged forward to grab a hold of Martin once more, to which Martin believed he was attacking him and defended himself with a quick, swift blow to Carl’s cheek. Carl fell back onto the road while staggering to his feet in a bid to hit out at the man standing in front of him with rage clearly visible on his face.
“You stuck up bastard! I’ll…”
All of sudden, as if from nowhere Rose screamed out for Martin and Carl to stop.
“Rose!” Carl blurted.
Running over to Carl, Rose helped him to his feet before looking angrily at Martin and nodding her head from side to side.
“Leave him alone, Martin.” She ordered.
Straightening his jacket and checking his face in the car door mirror, Martin took hold of his tie and pushed the bulbous knot up to the top of his throat. “He attacked me, Rose, what would you have me do?”
“Leave him alone.”
Without another word Martin pulled open the car door and slumped down into the driver’s seat before starting up the engine and driving off with a screech. By the side of the road Rose and Carl sat on the pavement for a few moments until they knew that the car had finally gone.
“Are you alright, Carl?” Rose asked looking at the quick swelling around Carl’s face.
“Obviously better than that jerk, I’ll see my day with him”
“No, Carl, you won’t. People like Martin are untouchable, especially for people like you – and me, too, it would appear.” Rose said half dreamily.
Thanking her for helping him Carl stood to his feet before putting out a helping hand for Rose, to which she accepted and allowed the man who had tried to defend her against Martin pull her up from the curb.
“Thank you, Carl, for everything that you have done for me”
“It was nothing really he just needed to be put in his place that’s…”
“I don’t mean just now, I mean everything that you have done before this morning. I know you have tried to look out for me and for all that you have my sincere appreciation, but now, I need you to go home and stay there until this day is over.” Rose insisted.
Carl gave a confused look.
“You’re talking as though there’s going to be no tomorrow, Rose!”
Battling her hesitated words before giving up while she still could, Rose nodded her head wearily before turning away from Carl to make her way back up the short pathway to her front door.
“Please Carl, go home and I will see you later. Thanks again for the help, but in future, please don’t get involved.”
Watching Rose disappear inside her home, Carl waited a few seconds before he made his way home down the steep hill.
The Shangri-La, Waltonvalevale, Wethershield.
Martin had made the short ten minute drive from Rose’s home to Waltonvale Village, where he pulled up outside a large white painted building that sat just off of the Main Street. Waiting for a for moments he took from his jacket the wafer thin mobile phone and searched the phone book for a contact before pressing it with a devilish smile.
“Is everything ready?” He asked in a soft low voice.
A couple of seconds later an answer came back. “Yes, just as you requested.”
Without any further response or goodbye, Martin finished the call and made his way out of the car to walk over to the front door of the house. Pressing the doorbell once he stepped back and awaited an answer from the occupier.
When the door opened a tall, well-dressed man with square shaped glasses stood looking down at him with an unsure look on his face.
“Can I help you?” The man asked.
“I’m looking for Shane Moore, is he at home?”
The man glanced quickly over his shoulder to make sure that nobody was in ear-shot, then looked back at Martin.
“You’ve got a lot of front turning up at my door Chatterwick and I have nothing more to talk to you about.” He cried out softly.
With an almost sarcastic smile Martin suggested that he calm himself down and invite him inside to talk, which the man thought for a moment before pushing the door fully open to allow him to walk inside. Once in the hallway and having closed the door behind him, the man suddenly turned on Martin, wrestling him up against the lobby wall, pushing his face into a nearby picture frame and telling him not to move. Martin was filled with fear for his safety.
“OK, there’s no need for this Mr Moore, I’ve only come to…”
“Shut your mouth, Chatterwick or I will break you in half. I warned you the last time you came around here what I’d do to you, did I not?”
Trying hard to acknowledge the best way that he could, Martin pleaded with the man to release his hold over him so that they could talk. After considering the situation that his captor was now in he decided to let him go under the condition that he kept his mouth closed until they had made their way through the rest of the house and reached the back garden. Martin agreed and kept to his word as they both made their way through the lobby into the kitchen and from there out into the back garden where one of Shane’s son’s ran around playing with their nine month old Golden Labrador.
“Michael, can you take Jasper into the house please, I need to talk with this gentleman for a while. If your mother’s around can you ask her to make a fresh pot of coffee, too?” Shane asked his son with a lowered smile.
Michael took hold of the pet and marched it back inside the house while his father stood out in the garden talking with Martin.
“That’s a beautiful animal you have there, Mr Moore”
“Cut the crap Chatterwick, what the hell do you want?” Shane growled.
“The Table of Four has requested that you do a final assignment, I trust that you will be available to do this?”
Shane could not believe what he was hearing and why should he, the last job that he had done for The Table of Four, it ended with a two year jail sentence for him and a lot of complicated explaining to do between him and his wife.
“Is that it? Is that all you came here for?”
Martin was somehow confused, as any politician would be confused to the fact that there was an offer of a well-paid assignment for the taking, and yet, with some form of past misunderstanding the employee was almost certainly considering rejecting it.
“You do understand your loyalty to the order, don’t you Mr Moore?”
Shane began to slowly remove his coat, then his tie, until finally he was unbuttoning each and every button from his shirt. “I understand that whatever benefits the order, benefits only the order while I spend two years in a prison with a voice that had to remain unheard so that my family would not be hurt.”
“That was unavoidable, Mr Moore, as you can appreciate the secrecy of the order itself…”
Immediately launching a swiping punch to Martin’s face after setting his shirt down on the lawn, Shane moved quickly around to the side of his victim and proceeded to slam an upper cut punch to his ribs. Martin’s legs buckled beneath him before collapsing downward onto the lawn in a heap, the spattering of blood on his face hiding the angry expression that he held for the man attacking him.
Gazing down at the helpless politician Shane dropped to his knees by the side of Martin before leaning down to stare him directly in the face.
“By the time I have finished with you and The Table of Four, Chatterwick, you are going to wish that these two years had come sooner. You see, people like me may be expendable, but we are made of something that you’re kind are not - humanity.”
Standing up and getting dressed again, Shane allowed Martin to get to his feet and compose himself the best he could before taking from his back trouser pocket a bright white handkerchief to wipe the blood from his face.
“You’re making a big mistake Moore, and after this I’d be surprised if you don’t see the inside of a jail cell by nightfall. In fact, I’d be very surprised…”
Martin stopped before he said something that would make the situation worse than what it already was, and have the man attack him for a second time.
“That’s right, Chatterwick you’ve finally learned to keep your mouth shut when it really has to be shut. Now you’ve learned your lesson, get the hell out of my house and never come back.” Shane announced clapping his hands together.
Martin was livid to say the least. This was the second time someone had attacked him in a matter of hours, and before anyone else could get the upper hand on him again, Martin said nothing more while he walked back through the house and returned to his car. Once here he took out his mobile again, only this time he typed the number into the phone and painfully pressed it against his ear.
“Its Chatterwick here, I’m in need of a babysitter right away.” He winced.
Again, without a goodbye or farewell he hung up the phone and drove away from the house to his next destination – McCormick’s Distilleries, Castertaiton.
© Marcus De Storm 2011
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Top-level comments on this article: (1 total)Sometimes the point of view seems to shift--from omnicient narrator single character point of view to no character point of view, other times to multiple character p-o-v. I dont get a clear picture of many of the characters. The relatively short paragraphs where you go into their thoughts or feelings could be longer and more developed and would assist in character development. I a few cases the dialogue seems stilted, not like natural conversation.
Narration like "There came the rolling anger..." seems a little stilted, too.Hey Jack, thank you for the comment, its really good to hear from you. I totally agree with what your saying, though, I did fail to mention that this is the Unedited Version as well as the Uncut Version. Plans are in motion for the Chapters to be Edited and Polished, as "The Arrival" was put together within 2 hours, its what I would call a "Rough Highlight Copy", not the end product.
Thanks again for the Comment and I hope you have a great day.I hate commenting, but you said to. I'm and ex-English teacher. The people here are not kids or students. Thanks and don't take me too seriously.
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