‘That’s impossible, Will. I still remember Frenz. I remember him as an old man, so he can’t be dead.’
As he was coming out of his daze of despair, he felt a firm hand land on his shoulder from behind. The hand was strong and pulled him backwards, spinning him around. To his surprise and relief, Will found himself standing face to face with Frenz Belingi once more.
Frenz had a neutral, unreadable look on his face. He said, ‘Abigayle, did you find her?’
Will nodded yes, stepped aside and said, ‘Frenz Belingi, please meet Abigayle Ward.’
Frenz looked over Will’s shoulder at Abigayle’s smiling face. Tears were rolling down her cheeks and she said, ‘Hello. It’s a pleasure to meet you.’
‘It’s a pleasure to finally meet you,’ Frenz said, smiling a thin toothless smile, which gradually became a broad toothy grin and finally Frenz chuckled heartily at his friend. ‘William Wells,’ Frenz said, ‘my friend. It’s over. It’s okay to smile now.’
‘I thought you were dead. They just carried a body out from the tower. I was sure they’d discovered Central Station.’
Frenz grinned back and said, ‘Do you really think I would allow that to happen?’
‘But you were shot. I left you down there with that brute Wigmore.’
‘That overweight fool? I struggled with him for a moment, yes. He almost got the better of me, I’ll admit, but then I saw his Mimic Watch flashing with an amber light. So, I used one of the moves I learned from you and activated it for him.’
‘Whoa, what happened?’
‘Well, let’s just say that in some version of the future that we may never see, there is a desk down in that chamber with a fat man’s head sitting on top of it.’ Frenz flinched. ‘If you don’t mind, I’d really rather not think about that incident ever again.’
Will agreed. ‘Jeez, I felt bad about the severed hand!’
‘Severed heads and hands,’ Abigayle said. ‘What the hell have you guys been up to? This is what happens when there’s not a woman around to keep you guys in check.’
‘You really don’t want to know. Here,’ Frenz said, handing Wigmore’s Mimic Watch to Will. ‘He has no further use for this, but something tells me that you may well do.’
‘What’s that supposed to…wait a sec,’ Will said, ‘if that wasn’t you or either of the other two, who did they just put in the back of the ambulance?’
‘It’s Cillian. They found him on the roof. He was in a particularly horrid state. Remind me never to get on your bad side.’
Will looked up to the sky for a moment, then said, ‘Well, when the police finally catch up to me, at least they can put me away for a murder I’m actually responsible for.’
‘Oh, I wouldn’t worry about the police,’ Frenz said.
‘And why’s that?’
‘Well, after I patched myself up, I headed up the tower – not easy when you’ve been shot in the leg – and about halfway up I saw a body from one of the windows. At first, I wasn’t sure if it was you or Cillian, so I made my way out onto the roof. When I saw it was Cillian, I took the liberty of placing Agent Wigmore’s gun on his person.’
‘The gun he used to’ – Will paused briefly – ‘the one he used to shoot you.’
Frenz nodded. ‘It’s okay, William. I knew that the man you saw them kill was a future version of me. And I could see you struggling with it and how to tell me.’
‘I’m sorry, Frenz, I should have told you from the very start. But I wasn’t sure how you’d react.’
‘I’m at peace with it. But what I cannot accept is the wrong man going to jail over my own death. So, when I found Cillian’s body, I also might have left some of my blood on his clothes. I hear that the police have recently made a breakthrough in the field of DNA testing.’
‘Frenz, thank you. For everything.’
‘It’s been a pleasure, William Wells. It’s not every day that you get to solve your own murder.’
Will and Abigayle placed their hands under Frenz’s arms and helped him limp away from the crowd. Will glanced down to see Frenz’s bloodied leg with his belt tightly bound above his knee as a makeshift tourniquet. ‘How’s the leg?’
‘It hurts like all hell, but I’ll survive.’
‘Yes, but you’ll have a limp for the rest of your life,’ Abigayle said. ‘I’ve seen it.’
‘She’s right. Come on, we need to get you to a doctor,’ Will said.
‘No, too many questions that I cannot answer. Just get me to the police station, then you can send me back to where I need to be.’
Will stopped walking, turned to Frenz and said, ‘Send you back?’
Frenz nodded. ‘Back to 1940, where you found me. That was always the plan. My cell was destroyed, remember? They will think I’m dead, and I’ve already got my new identity lined up. Then I can get this leg looked at. They’ll just put it down to an injury from the bombings.’
‘Frenz, are you sure about this? If you go back –’
‘There’s no changing that now. If my death in this time means the Timepiece is safe from the likes of Cillian Gander, it’ll have been worth it.’
The walk was slow, but the three of them eventually found themselves standing outside the tall red-brick walls of the police station where Will had been held five days earlier. They skirted down the side of the building, along a narrow, quiet road to the rear of the station. Frenz leaned against the wall and said, ‘Okay, Will, this area should be safe. I’ve reviewed the history, we won’t be seen.’
‘Are you sure about this?’
‘Yes, quite sure. It has been a pleasure, my friend.’
‘I’m never going to forget you, Frenz. You know that, right?’
‘I don’t imagine that I could forget about you, but I’ll do my very best,’ Frenz said with a mischievous smile.
‘Abby, you should stay here. Keep a lookout and keep this area clear for my return. This exact spot, okay?’
Abigayle nodded at Will, then looked at the young Frenz Belingi. She paused a beat, then strode towards him and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. Through the tears she said, ‘I know you don’t know me yet. But you will. Thank you for everything, Frenz.’
She stepped away from him, wiped her cheeks and nodded at Will to begin. Will looked at Abigayle and said, ‘I’ll be right back.’ He smiled at her and began entering the date, 7th September 1940. As he did so, Frenz said, ‘The bombing should have finished by 2 a.m., so that time would be best.’ Will nodded, made the adjustments, took his friend by the hand one last time and activated the Timepiece.
September 7th, 1940, 02:00
Instantly the tall police station wall disappeared, replaced with a partially collapsed one. Behind them was a wood-panelled fence, damp and rotten at the bottom and grey from weathering. It was night time, but the sound was deafening. Farther southwards, rescue efforts were underway in the aftermath of the bombing. Fortunately, the street where they stood was completely deserted. It was lit only by the faint moonlight angling down from above. Not a single light could be seen in the streets nor from inside the surrounding buildings.
‘You sure you’re going to be okay?’ Will said.
‘I’ll be fine. I always had such fondness for the past. And I’m sure I have something to offer to the war effort.’
‘What should I do with this?’ Will gestured to the Timepiece, pulsing on his wrist.
Frenz shrugged and said, ‘You are the Timekeeper now, William. It’s up to you. You and Abigayle will do right by it, but the agency always had three Section Heads for a reason, so if you find a third person you can trust as much as you trust each other, maybe you can form a new agency. Better than the one before.’
‘How am I going to find someone I can trust with all this? Who’s even going to believe it?’
Frenz smiled. ‘You might find someone sooner than you think. See you in about forty years. Take care of yourself, and Abigayle. Goodbye, William Wells.’
Frenz offered hi
s hand to Will, who, instead of shaking it, took a step towards him and threw his arms around his friend. The move caught Frenz by surprise and he tentatively returned the gesture. Will parted from their embrace, took one last look at his friend Frenz Belingi and deactivated the Timepiece.
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
May 19th, 1984, 21:47
What had started as a straightforward robbery-murder case quickly spiralled into something far more complex, with arson, kidnapping, a jailbreak, an international manhunt and multiple homicides. Despite all this, the case now appeared to be coming to a close.
Hours earlier a body had been pulled from the roof of the Palace of Westminster. It had been identified as the owner of the house that had recently been the subject of an arson attack, but the body also had two silenced pistols on its persons. Both weapons had been fired recently and matched the unusual calibre of the shell casings that Detective Inspector Moss had been finding all over London. He fully expected the ballistics to come back confirming that one or both of these guns were the murder weapons used in the recent spate of shootings.
He was reluctant to admit it, but it seemed as though William Wells wasn’t their man after all. Even so, Moss still wanted to find him. And there was still the small matter of two missing women: Madame Izri and William Wells’s fiancée, Abigayle Ward.
Added to that were the baffling movements of Wells himself and a string of other strange happenings around the case. Moss had wracked his brain for explanations to how Wells could have existed in two places at the same time and had come to one possibility, no matter how improbable it might sound. This was not a conclusion that he could share with his superiors, however. They seemed content to have caught the killer and were eager to chalk it up as a win and take the plaudits from the public and the press.
Moss was a keenly meticulous man, so, as he did most nights when he was working a case, he headed back to the station to go over the case files for the hundredth time. The front of the station was crowded with a gaggle of journalists and photographers keen for a scoop on the story, something he’d rather avoid getting in the middle of. That was for his bosses to deal with, they’d be in their element out there. Instead, he parked his car and took the scenic route around the side of the station on foot, heading towards the rear entrance, where he could enter unmolested.
As he turned the corner, he could see the figure of a woman leaning against the station wall, alone in the darkness. He approached cautiously, not wanting to alarm her. He’d made it a dozen or so steps along the road when she saw him. She pushed herself away from the wall and looked in his direction, but she didn’t run. For a moment he considered turning back and finding another way around, worried that she might be a reporter, but there was something about her that he recognised. He continued to walk ever closer, stopping three or four metres away. Even in the dimly lit street he could see who it was. To his surprise, he found himself staring at none other than missing woman number one, Abigayle Ward.
He continued to move closer to categorically confirm that it was her, but he was stopped when she said, ‘Okay, that’s close enough. Not another step.’
Moss stopped as instructed and attempted to calm her down by saying, ‘It’s okay, miss, I’m a police officer.’
‘A police officer, you expect me to believe that? What are you really doing here?’
‘I’m telling the truth, miss. Now, if I’m not mistaken, you’re Abigayle Ward, is that right?’
She frowned slightly, then said, ‘So what if I am, what’s it to you?’
‘Well, miss,’ Moss said, ‘I really am a police officer, and my colleagues and I have been looking for you. And your fiancé, Mr Wells. He’s in an awful lot of trouble, miss.’
‘Well, whatever it is—’ Abigayle’s words were cut off as William Wells abruptly reappeared between her and the dumbfounded Detective Inspector Moss.
Will glanced towards Abigayle and smiled affectionately. Abigayle, with a look of shock on her face, pointed at something behind him. Will turned and saw Moss standing there, eyes wide with disbelief.
Will held up his hands and said, ‘Okay, officer, I can explain. This isn’t what you think.’
‘You really think he’s a police officer? Don’t you know who that is?’ Abigayle said, her voice wavering.
‘Well, yeah,’ Will said, ‘this is the cop who’s been chasing me this whole time.’
‘No, it’s not,’ Abigayle said.
‘If he’s not a cop, then who is he?’
Abigayle took a step towards Will, linking her arm through his. With her free hand she pointed towards Moss, who had remained uncharacteristically silent, too stunned to talk, and she said, ‘I’ve seen him in a photograph, standing with Frenz and Avy. That man there is Nestor Ordell.’
-THE END-
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About the Author
O.R. Simmonds is a Writer, Director and Artist working in the Games Industry and author of The Timepiece and the Girl Who Went Astray.
Before working in the games industry, he spent nearly a decade dreaming up deep, detailed worlds with weaving narratives only for them to be ‘value engineered’ by clients. It was during this time that he decided he no longer wanted to be a frustrated writer and to try to be an actual writer instead.
He ran a successful Kickstarter campaign to help fund the publication of this very book. His second book, Very Much Mistaken Perry, is currently being edited and slated for release sometime in 2022.
Ollie lives in Surrey, UK with his wife and two young boys. His eldest son is named after Back to the Future’s Doc Emmett Brown and his youngest’s middle name is Adventure (yes, really). It’s not all that surprising that his debut novel is a time travel adventure then.
You can connect with me on:
https://orsimmonds.com
https://twitter.com/o_simmonds
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The Timepiece and the Girl Who Went Astray: A thrilling new time travel adventure Page 31
