Here is the final entry in the modestly anticipated series called... Well I never actually came up with a catchy name for it. Anyway, if you need to see the rules or any explanation, see May I Conduct an Experiment?. The series will be ten episodes long, so bear that in mind with plot development and such. The entries referenced in this episode come up as linked entries wherever your skin usually puts them, and the Post Team have included the next five entries to be used to continue this story at the end. The first person to follow up by adding their name will take on responsibility for the next episode.

Please keep up the challenge of...

Whatever Next...

The Tenth and Final Episode

Buckeye's car raced through the streets of Glasgow at a breakneck and distinctly dangerous speed. The last few hours had seen events spiral increasingly out of control and Dave, just ten hours after he had got himself out of bed, was fervently hoping that this was all some kind of mad and implausibly real seeming nightmare. He was no longer able to sustain a grip of what was happening.

An hour previously, the professor had arrived by plane in Glasgow. Still fully aware that Craig had not moved more than a few yards since he took off, the professor had calmly and sedately made his way towards Lisa's parents' home.

Craig, meanwhile, was trying desperately to think through the situation in his head while keeping up the appearance of being a guest at a party where he didn’t actually know anyone. He was increasingly of the opinion that this whole affair was getting out of hand. If the camera had been found then the best they could hope was that it has been found by some cleaner or something, and by the time the University had launched an investigation it would be too late. The worst-case scenario, and the one which was preoccupying Craig's thoughts, was that someone might be on to them. Had the mirror made them suspicious? Had they been looking for the camera because they were already suspicious? Craig was confident he had hidden the camera pretty well, and was anxious that it could only have been found by someone who was looking for it That could only mean trouble, which the professor seemed entirely unconcerned by. So what to do? Cut and run seemed the obvious option, but to what? Craig's life now wasn't the life he had run away from ten years ago, and it now pretty much revolved around the professor's mad schemes. Craig quickly realised that he didn't really have anywhere else to go. So what next—carry on with the plan? If he moved quickly, maybe they could follow this through and get it over and then he could disentangle himself from the professor and get out before he got arrested. So now he had to get the girl out of here and away to the hotel—but how? His charm wasn't working as it normally did—he'd have to think of something else.

Dave and Buckeye were, at this point, still about an hour from Glasgow. Dave's phone beeped, or rather, played a couple of bars of music to alert him to an arriving text message.

'What was that?' asked Buckeye.

'Amazing Grace' replied Dave. 'Haven’t you seen the film- it's all about William Wilberforce—the abolitionist guy'

'Ah' said Buckeye, in a tone that conveyed disinterest. 'What's the message?'

Dave checked his phone and then looked blank for a moment.

'It says "See you at the Hotel in fifteen minutes"' he replied, still evidently baffled 'it's from Lisa.'

Dave looked horrified. 'She's seeing someone else!' he cried 'she must have sent this message to me by mistake'

'Pray that you're right Dave.' replied Buckeye.

'What? What the hell are you thinking?'

'She's been lured there Dave' replied the American, who's accent Dave still hadn't been able to identify after many hours of attentive listening.

'How?'

'I sent a text to your phone from Garbenstein Dave.' replied Buckeye. 'It’s not that hard.'

He jammed the car roughly into a gear Dave had not previously realised existed and the surrounding cars disappeared in a blur as Buckeye accelerated still further towards Glasgow.

Meanwhile Lisa had arrived at the hotel and was making her way up the stairs to the room number Dave had given her. She had been on tenterhooks for the past few hours and, excited as she was at the prospect of seeing Dave, she was also anxious simply to start feeling safe again, and Dave made her feel safe. She found the room and knocked on the door.

'It’s open.'

Lisa slid the door open and slipped inside. As the door clicked shut behind her, she was suddenly struck with the horrible realisation that the voice she had responded to so eagerly was not Dave's. She span round, but Craig was already between her and the door.

'Don't Panic,' he said, 'this won't hurt a bit.'

Outside, Buckeye's car slammed to a halt.

'Which room?' yelled Dave, already racing for the door.

'I don't know yet, I haven't managed to download the whole message. It doesn’t matter anyway, there's no point rushing in there.'

'But we've got to save Lisa!'

'Don't Panic Dave!' replied Buckeye 'They won't kill her in there. That room'll be bait, but they'll have to take her somewhere else to kill her.'

'But they must know we're onto them! Surely they won't come out if they think we might be out here.'

'Already on it Dave.' came the reply. Buckeye was fiddling with his phone, and some other bit of technical gadgetry Dave didn’t recognise. 'Ever heard of the Battle of Iwo Jima?'

'That Japanese Island? So what?'

'When the American forces finally secured the island they raised a flag. Then, three hours later, when the cameras got there, they raised another flag. That was the one in all the magazines, that was the one everyone thought was real.'

'So?'

'Camera never lies matey!' grinned Buckeye.

Ten minutes later, Lisa emerged from the hotel, with Craig half a step behind her. She was looking around anxiously, hoping that something might happen, that someone might notice, might suspect, might intervene. Nobody did. Craig, though quietly cautious, strode with the confident assurance of a man who knows his problems are behind him. As indeed they were. Buckeye wrapped a garrotte firmly around his neck and jammed his knee into Craig's back. Craig yelled in pain and attempted to fight back, but to no avail. Craig was a conman, a trickster, but he was no match for Buckeye's calm and assured restraint techniques, and he sunk to the floor, where Buckeye tied his hand behind his back. Dave came running out from where he had been hiding.

'Lisa!'

'Dave! I thought you were dead!'

'What?'

'Told you, Dave.' grinned Buckeye 'Sent a photo of our car in a pile up on the freeway.'

'It's a motorway.'

'Whatever, we were toast. Like I said, camera never lies. But it does believe everything you tell it.'

'Why on earth would you believe someone just randomly sending you text messages about a car crash?'

'He gets text updates about the news. BBC Website's easy enough to hack. Not as easy as Wikipedia, but rather more credible.'

Craig had sat quietly taking in the whole story, and was finally ready to speak.

'Well done Steve,' he said 'you’ve thought it all out pretty carefully.'

'Um...' Dave began, 'how does he know your name? I don’t even know your name.'

'I thought this might come up eventually,' remarked Buckeye slowly, but without apparent concern, 'we were at University together. University of Ohio, specifically. That all Buckeye means, it's the Uni emblem. We were both preps in our first year, hanging with the cool kids, y'know. Craig here went off to some beer festival or other. Just after he'd fallen out with his latest religious cult group, whatever it was, bored sober virgins against fun or something. That's where he met...'

Buckeye stopped, seeming concerned and, for the first time since Dave had met him, no longer appearing to be totally in control of events. Eventually, Buckeye continued, a little hoarsely.

'Where's the Professor?'

Craig grinned. He did not actually imagine his own situation getting any better, but he could imagine Buckeye's day getting worse.

'I think,' said the professor 'the young lady and I will be going now.'

He emerged from behind the bushes where he had been, it seemed, concealed for some minutes.

'How did you...?' Craig began, but was interrupted.

'Mobile phones.' came the reply. 'you talk on yours on the time, forever talking, texting, surfing and always communicating.' The professor smiled a quiet, smug smile, 'but never listening. You see young Craig? I am not so technologically backward as you imagine. Now, young lady, I think we shall be going.'

Those had, it turned out later, been the last words the professor ever spoke. Dave's flask, quite by chance, caught him a glancing blow on a very specific part of his head. They moved, watched, and listened, but he never spoke again. Buckeye picked up the flask.

'What's this? he asked.

'Lettuce Soup' came the reply.

Buckeye opened the flask and sniffed tentatively. 'Looks like you found the best use for it Dave. Where the hell did you get the recipe from anyway?'

'Oh, I can’t remember.' replied Dave. 'Some website somewhere.'

'Well, it's served us well today.' observed Buckeye, suddenly relieved that this appalling pun appeared to have passed unnoticed. 'I don’t know, a devious criminal mastermind defeated by a flask of soup from a recipe off the Internet. Whatever next...?'

benjaminpmoore

06.11.08 Front Page

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