Crime does pay, but not without its costs - As Rupert and Marshall are about to discover.
“Ah! Mr. Weir, how nice of you to show up. Have you got my money?”
“Yes Sir, I have the cheque right here.”
Mr. Hartson snatched the paper from Rupert's hand and began studying it as if it were a jewell.
“All good and proper Sir, 25 grand.” Rupert stuttered.
Mr. Hartson's miserable face turned into that of a smile, a big greedy fat-cat smile, “How did you ever get hold of so much money at such short notice boy?”
“I.... Look, you got your money can I just go now?” panic was evident in Rupert's tone, he had done some bad things to get that money, some bad — illegal things.
“Very well Mr. Weir, but in the future make sure you pay your student fees on time.” Mr. Hartson spoke as he ushered the student to the door.
“Yes Sir I...” but the door was slammed shut on young Rupert's face before he could utter another word.
“Hey buddy, how'd it go with Mr. Twatson?”
Rupert threw himself down onto the sofa and began to sigh deeply, “Yeah it went ok, I'm just glad this whole ordeal is over now.”
Marshall sniggered, “Yeah man, and look at all this money we've got now!”
Rupert turned to his room-mate and smiled, “Yeah, something tells me we're gonna be alright.”
“Wanna go get some Chinese? My treat!” Marshall winked.
“Yeah go on then, I'm fucking starving.”
“Mmmm you can really taste the Pao in this Kung Pao Chicken.”
Rupert accidently snorted some Coke (the drink!) while laughing at his friend's antics, “I can't go one meal with you without snorting my beverage can I?” Rupert giggled whilst coughing loudly.
Marshall turned to the other tables, as they had all started watching the odd spectacle of a young boy chocking frantically and started assuring them all was OK.
“No, no, no need for the Heimlich Maneuver”Ž Mr. Waitor person, my friend's just weird that's all.”
Which only lead to more fits of coughing/laughing from Rupert, “Yeah I'm fine Mr. *cough* Waitor *cough* man.”
Rupert then turned to Marshall, “Imma have to go toilet a sec yeah?”
“No worries, I'll just be Kung Paoing it while you're gone.”
Rupert still found himself giggling quietly whilst washing his hands, that lad really knew how to tickle his ribs.
But as he started drying his hands his thoughts changed to that of the pair's new found fortune, what was he going to spend his share on? Could he drop out of uni and just live off his dirty money? But... would they get caught? I mean, they did steal a million pounds, and Marshall was even caught and blackmailed in the process.
His thoughts were soon cut off though by a vibrating in his pocket, he digged in to find he was receiving a call on his mobile from an unknown number.
Now, most people wouldn't answer their phone in these cases but Rupert just couldn't bare to leave it ringing and so answered cautiously....
“Hello....?”
“Hi, is Linda there?”
“Ummm, who is this?”
“Who's this? This is Linda's phone you know.”
It was then that it occurred to him who it was on the other end, it was Stephen Dawson — the rich kid who blackmailed Marshall into giving him 'Linda's' number.
“Oh I.... I'll get her to call you back, ok? She's ummm in the shower at the moment.”
“Very well.”
Rupert sat down in his seat opposite Marshall sweating buckets.
“Hahaha recovered from your little accident yet buddy?”
“I ummm.... Stephen just called me.”
“Stephen from Tae Kwan Do?”
“No, no Stephen....” Rupert gave his friend an alarming look, “.... Dawson.”
“Oh.... OH! Crap.”
Rupert nodded, looking down at the table.
“Right ummm....” Marshall started dabbing his mouth with a napkin, “I thought he'd just forget about the whole thing but ummm..... what did you say to him?”
“I just told him 'Linda' will call him back, what else could I do?”
“Right. Well, are you gonna call him back?”
“HELL NO! That freaky Linda shit is behind me now.”
Marshall's face saddened, “But.... what if he reports us if you don't play along?”
“Well.... I don't know Marshall, we're way in over our heads here and...”
“And....?”
Rupert pointed at the muted TV positioned adjacent to their table whilst gawping.
Marshall followed the direction of his finger and his too jaw dropped. There, on the telly, was the small appartment the pair got their fake IDs from, it was being ransacked by officers and had a young female reporter stood before it.
“What do you think happened?” Marshall questioned awkwardly.
“The police must have found out about what he was doing.”
“Shit.”
“Are we gonna get found out? He probably has all our information there!”
“No, we're good, he said he shredded all documents to prevent that from happening.”
“Well thank fuck for that.”
“But...” Marshall paused, “We're just gonna have to hope he doesn't give us away in court.”
“Let's hope so.”
2 weeks later...
“So Mr. Daley, have you heard the Dawsons are having another party this weekend?”
Marshall looked around puzzled, as he had just been pulled by the scruff of his neck into Mr. Hartson's office. “Ummm no I haven't Sir, why are you telling me this?”
“Well, since I saw you at the last one I thought maybe you were going once again?”
“No Sir, I...”
“I see. Will Harold Brooke be attending though?”
“I'm sorry?”
“I said...” Mr. Hartson bent down to eye-contact with the young man, “Will Harold Brooke be attending?”
“H... h.... how would I know Sir?”
Mr. Hartson laughed menacingly whilst walking in a circle with his hands behind his back, “Don't play dumb with me boy, I know you and some bird disguised as the long-lost Brooke twins to get into that shindig.”
“Sir, I....”
“No, stop right there. I don't want to know how you got in, I don't want anything to do with that.”
Marshall was now panicking, and nearing tears, where was the old fart going with this?
“O...o....o....ok.” Was all Marshall could force out.
“But...” Mr. Hartson returned to eye-contact with him, “Are you aware of how well those disguises worked? Heck, you could've digged into the Dawson fortune with ease, that's if.... you didn't already.” The old man winked at him.
“N...n....no Sir, no stealing.”
“Oh really? And I imagine you and your room-mate just happened to find thousands of pounds lying on the ground that you gave to me for student fees?”
“Sir, I....”
“No, I do not want to hear any excuses! You quite obviously stole money from them to give to me via your room-mate. Now, I suggest if you want to avoid being reported to the police, you do the following...”
Marshall couldn't believe it, was he going to get blackmailed again?
“... I want to see you and 'Linda Brooke'” he spoke using two fingers on each hand to illustrate quotations, “at the Dawson Manor this weekend.”
Mr. Hartson started ruffling Marshall's hair, “You're gonna help Papa buy himself a new car!”
This time it was Marshall's turn to throw himself down on the sofa and sigh.
“What's up Marsh?” Rupert questioned, whilst nibbling on a tuna sandwich.
“Well....” Marshall leaned forward, “You're not gonna like this, mate.”
Rupert couldn't believe he was back again, back in the gardens of the Dawson manor in a wig and a dress. Mingling with rich people, gossiping with the ladies, and flirting with the gentlemen.
He groaned as he walked gracefully over to Marshall, “Harold, when did you say we were meeting Mr. Hartson and his wife?”
“In five minutes by the gates, infact we best make our way there now.” Marshall took his 'sister's' hand, covered with rings and bracelets and guided her behind him.
“You know....” Marshall turned to his mortified friend and offered him a quirky smile, “This is the place where we first kissed.”
“Stop!” Rupert screamed, keeping his voice feminine, “It was in the spur of the moment, I told you never to mention it again!”
“Ok, ok!” Marshall backed away holding his hands up.
“Ah, the Brooke twins.” Mr. Hartson grinned as he approached with his wife to his left.
“Hello Mr. Hartson.” Marshall spoke timidly, looking down at his shoes.
“Hello Linda!” said Mrs. Hartson giddily.
Rupert had spoken to her earlier as Linda, and had no idea she was married to the evil little man.
“Hi Janet!” He made sure to also speak giddily, as apparently that's what all rich chicks do.
“Say Janet...” Mr. Hartson took his wife by her arm, “could you go get me a Scotch?”
“Sure honey!” And with that she quickly turned around and headed back towards the party.
“Now...” He put his arms around the 'twins', “Time for you two to make me rich!”
