Louis Bentley's Journal 01

The following is entirely fictional. Any similarity is entirely coincidental.

Louis Bentley - Case Files

Episode One

Louis Bentley’s Journal.


I’ve always wanted to be a writer. But, it wasn’t as lucrative as I thought. Besides, I didn’t have anything to write about. Over the past thirty years, however, I’ve come across a lot to write about. Too much actually.

I’ll start with one of my more recent cases.

June 3rd. The case of Emily Blonde. She was a thirteen year old girl. Kidnapped and held for ransom. Her family was rich. Father had some government connections. The police weren’t involved. They weren’t even informed.

Somehow along my thirty years as a private eye I had developed some sort of reputation catching cheating wives and husbands and interfering with police business on certain homicides. That’s why the mother came to me. She was beautiful. Mid thirties, long slender legs and her waist was thin. So thin, that her hips stuck out in a sexy way. I could balance my coffee mug on her ass. She came to me with the news that her daughter, Emily, had been kidnapped. She had explained how she knew it was a kidnapping. Quite simple really, a ransom note and her husband knocked out and tied up in the trunk of his own family van. Apparently he was picking her up from a soccer game when the kidnappers nabbed him and got the girl.

They had threatened the father with something political. She didn’t go in to details, but, from what I understood, a lot of big people would end up in small jail cells. He told his wife to remain calm because he’d find a way to get her back. He told her to be strong, and believe in him, and most important, to keep her mouth shut. He couldn’t pay the ransom; apparently he didn’t have that kind of money to throw away. Amateur fucking kidnapper’s asked for a ridiculous amount. Word had got to them that Mr. Blonde had recently been given a large amount of cash to hold for a political body. Problem was: he had to show statements of his bank balance. So, he couldn’t use that money. Kidnappers didn’t care. I’ve seen this kind of thing before. Without my help, little Emily was guaranteed dead. There were possibly two or more people involved in the kidnapping. One, without a doubt, would be a pussy and start to worry too much making the other two consider what they’ve done. In the end, because it’s their first kidnapping, they’d kill her, against the one pussy’s wishes, simply to “cover all their tracks and leave no evidence.” I needed to act fast. If she was lucky, they’d get stupid and kill each other.

Mrs. Blonde lasted three days, no news from her husband and three calls to Emily’s teacher, lying that poor Emily hadn’t gotten over that bad flu, had finally taken a toll on her conscience. After that, she had lost faith in her husband’s capabilities and came to me in secrecy. She offered big money, but, that wasn’t why I was in to this case. Something about young girl and kidnapping with a side order of possible rape makes me sick to my stomach. I jumped at the opportunity to get involved before my friends at the station caught on to the disappearance. They’d be nothing but a nuisance. The reason I left the force: too many idiots playing Rambo, but, basically just getting in my way.

It took me a whole night of watching the house of Mr. and Mrs. Blonde before I figured out that no one was coming here to monitor the parents. Weird, usually they would send one person to watch the home from a distance. Just to make sure there was no police getting involved. Usually the worried pussy was the candidate to send. Just to get his whiny ass out of the way. I could imagine three masked kidnappers arguing on what to do next. Makes me laugh a little. Idiots.

No luck at the house, I ended up going to the school. I couldn’t go through the proper channels to get permission to view the security tapes. So, I broke in and stole them. I had standards when I started this business, but, I realized over the years that sometimes it’s easier to just break the rules in order to get a job done. After all, Emily’s life was in my hands now. I had to do what I do. The school would report a break in and security tapes being stolen would trigger a police response. They’d look at charts and find students absent from school and they’d find out about Emily. Mr. and Mrs. Blonde would receive a warning note from the kidnappers. Faggots wouldn’t have the balls to kill her yet, besides, they wanted the money. So, a warning would do fine for now. The newspaper would find out and it would leak in to the general public, the kidnappers will begin to freak out. I’ll find them and take them down and rescue the girl before the police do. To cover up the break in at the school, I will plant the stolen tapes in the kidnapper’s hideout. It’s wrong, I know, but it needs to be done. I will not go to jail for saving a life. So, I’ll lie to save my ass. All this from a small break in at a school. It’s good to know how these things play out.

I reviewed the tapes for around six hours. I got the EC-32 camera tape. EC-32 meant Exterior Camera number 32, for those of you wondering. This camera had it all. Mr. Blonde pulled up to the sidewalk in his van and waited for Emily to come out from the school. While waiting, a beautiful young woman with sunglasses and a baseball cap with long black hair running over her shoulders, probably a wig, tapped on his window. He rolled the window down and she sprayed him with knock-out gas, probably homemade, he fell limp in his seat. A second accomplice ran up on along the passenger side of the van and got in. The black haired woman pretended to be talking to the driver while her body conveniently covered the window from the view of the school doors. Emily emerged from the school and the black-haired woman glanced over her shoulder at her. Emily assumed it’s a friend of her father. She approached the woman. As soon as she’s close enough, the black-haired woman side stepped quickly, the accomplice, who had moved Mr. Blonde to the passenger seat already, sprayed some more knock out gas in to Emily’s face. Emily stumbled back, too shocked to scream. Suddenly, she begins to wobble as the drug kicked in. The woman held on to Emily and brought her around the back of the van where she shoved her in to the trunk. The woman got in to the backseat and the van sped off. It was quick and simple, but, still amateur. The whole thing took less than thirty seconds. As for the van, they obviously switched later, leaving Mr. Blonde tied up in the trunk. As soon as they sped off, another young girl stepped out of the school and watched them disappear around the corner. She ran out to the road shouting at them. No sound on my old hardware. From the look of it, this was one of Emily’s friends. It is possible that she was supposed to hitch a ride with Mr. Blonde.

I made a call to Mrs. Blonde who gave me Emily’s best friend’s name: Sarah Ashe. Mrs. Blonde left a photograph of Sarah under the doormat of the house. That way her husband wouldn’t find out she had gone to me. The next day, I had to find a way to talk to Sarah in school without looking like a pedophile.
I caught about an hour’s worth of sleep and headed to Mrs. Blonde’s house to get the picture. Then, I made my way to the school entrance and waited for Sarah to show. The girls started arriving at the school at about 8:15 a.m., Sarah showed up promptly around 8:45 a.m. She was the same girl from the photo, shorter hair now. Classes started at nine. Before I could get to her, she was in a group and already inside the school. I had to catch her alone at some point. I felt like I, Louis Bentley, was going to school for the first time again, difference was: it was an all girls’ school. It was going to be difficult, I knew that much.

To be continued…