Sentence The Onehundredandthirtysixth
And meanwhile, elsewhere in the City, Bunty and Dixie O'Hooligan sat in the waiting area of A&E at Edinburgh Royal Infirmary, waiting for news of their cousin, Bernie Westwater; it was a tense and distressing wait for them – one of the Doctors had come out to tell them the nature of Bernie's injuries, and she had been grave as she explained how close the knife-slash athwart her throat had come to her trachea and an artery; it was clear that her attacker had intended, not merely to immobilise her, but rather to kill; this filled both sisters with anger and a determination to wreak their revenge – not just on the perpetrator, but also his employer; oh, they knew full well the identity of the person for whom The Man was working – they had studied the images sent to them by The Economic Migrant, and had a bigger and better grasp of what had happened than even the Police; after all, they knew that The Man had been at the two apartments off the Cowgate, from where Elginbrod's sex-slaves had been freed by The Shottstown Ladies Quick-Draw Club; they knew that a number of SOCOs had been there working under The Man's orders and that he had given something to a Forensics Assistant who had broken down under the strain of working under pressure from The Man while trying to keep that hidden from his Boss, Professor Carolina Moonbeam; they knew that The Man had left his car in The Grassmarket and climbed on foot to Elginbrod's Chambers and they had watched the video streamed to them by The Migrant and had witnessed the verbal flagellation the sadistic QC had subjected his hireling to, before dismissing him with orders not to return without knowledge of where the Slaves had been taken, and by whom, and to be back with that information before close of business that afternoon; and they observed the meek obeisance of The Man – normally a person who relishes his position of authority and power over others - made to his Master; they knew that Bernie, guided by The Migrant, had been following The Man from a distance, avoiding two other women who – for their own reasons – were also on his trail, and that Bernie had moved between The Man and the amateur trackers and had closed on him as he entered Waverley Station, and they had seen the CCTV images of him holding Bernie tight in the Lift and trying to end her life there; they knew where he had gone after leaving the Station and knew also that they were close to confirming his identity – close, but no cigar so far; and they were debating whether to finish him off first, or Elginbrod, on their own – or to nudge the Police in the right direction and provide them with sufficient evidence to send them both to Jail for the rest of their lives – which, they were sure, would be pretty short once the other inmates knew who they were and what they had done; it was a hard decision, and they hadn't yet managed to call it, for their primary focus was on Bernie – she had to pull through – and the trill of Bunty's phone came like a bolt of lightning, giving them both a start; she checked the screen, “it's Uncle Jock,” she whispered to Dixie, and they both quickly stepped out into the sunshine, and she took the call on Speaker: “Bunty, I take it you and Dixie are at the Hospital, I've just heard – how's Bernie?” and she quickly filled Lord Linkumdoddie in on the present situation - “I know who it was,” said he, after hearing the description of The Man Bernie had been following, “and the other two women, well, one of them is Teri Somerville, Maude and Daphne's niece, and I know Sammy Linger slightly, she's ok; but I'm not able to say any more, it's a kitchen-sinky enough situation, without throwing my Frankie's handbag into the mix – your 'Friend' is not the only one who listens at keyholes; meet me in the 'Midships' at 6.00 and we'll have a blether, Justice for All,” and he rang off – the sisters would certainly be in The Half-Way House at 3pm, to meet with Lord Linkumdoddie and the others of The Justice League of Auld Reekie, for they knew the coded references, and they went back to their vigil for Bernie, for at this present moment, only her survival and return to health and fitness would mollify, or even beatify, her two loyal cousins – well, that and utter extermination of Elginbrod and his henchman like the couple of cockroaches they are!
And meanwhile, elsewhere in the City, Bunty and Dixie O'Hooligan sat in the waiting area of A&E at Edinburgh Royal Infirmary, waiting for news of their cousin, Bernie Westwater; it was a tense and distressing wait for them – one of the Doctors had come out to tell them the nature of Bernie's injuries, and she had been grave as she explained how close the knife-slash athwart her throat had come to her trachea and an artery; it was clear that her attacker had intended, not merely to immobilise her, but rather to kill; this filled both sisters with anger and a determination to wreak their revenge – not just on the perpetrator, but also his employer; oh, they knew full well the identity of the person for whom The Man was working – they had studied the images sent to them by The Economic Migrant, and had a bigger and better grasp of what had happened than even the Police; after all, they knew that The Man had been at the two apartments off the Cowgate, from where Elginbrod's sex-slaves had been freed by The Shottstown Ladies Quick-Draw Club; they knew that a number of SOCOs had been there working under The Man's orders and that he had given something to a Forensics Assistant who had broken down under the strain of working under pressure from The Man while trying to keep that hidden from his Boss, Professor Carolina Moonbeam; they knew that The Man had left his car in The Grassmarket and climbed on foot to Elginbrod's Chambers and they had watched the video streamed to them by The Migrant and had witnessed the verbal flagellation the sadistic QC had subjected his hireling to, before dismissing him with orders not to return without knowledge of where the Slaves had been taken, and by whom, and to be back with that information before close of business that afternoon; and they observed the meek obeisance of The Man – normally a person who relishes his position of authority and power over others - made to his Master; they knew that Bernie, guided by The Migrant, had been following The Man from a distance, avoiding two other women who – for their own reasons – were also on his trail, and that Bernie had moved between The Man and the amateur trackers and had closed on him as he entered Waverley Station, and they had seen the CCTV images of him holding Bernie tight in the Lift and trying to end her life there; they knew where he had gone after leaving the Station and knew also that they were close to confirming his identity – close, but no cigar so far; and they were debating whether to finish him off first, or Elginbrod, on their own – or to nudge the Police in the right direction and provide them with sufficient evidence to send them both to Jail for the rest of their lives – which, they were sure, would be pretty short once the other inmates knew who they were and what they had done; it was a hard decision, and they hadn't yet managed to call it, for their primary focus was on Bernie – she had to pull through – and the trill of Bunty's phone came like a bolt of lightning, giving them both a start; she checked the screen, “it's Uncle Jock,” she whispered to Dixie, and they both quickly stepped out into the sunshine, and she took the call on Speaker: “Bunty, I take it you and Dixie are at the Hospital, I've just heard – how's Bernie?” and she quickly filled Lord Linkumdoddie in on the present situation - “I know who it was,” said he, after hearing the description of The Man Bernie had been following, “and the other two women, well, one of them is Teri Somerville, Maude and Daphne's niece, and I know Sammy Linger slightly, she's ok; but I'm not able to say any more, it's a kitchen-sinky enough situation, without throwing my Frankie's handbag into the mix – your 'Friend' is not the only one who listens at keyholes; meet me in the 'Midships' at 6.00 and we'll have a blether, Justice for All,” and he rang off – the sisters would certainly be in The Half-Way House at 3pm, to meet with Lord Linkumdoddie and the others of The Justice League of Auld Reekie, for they knew the coded references, and they went back to their vigil for Bernie, for at this present moment, only her survival and return to health and fitness would mollify, or even beatify, her two loyal cousins – well, that and utter extermination of Elginbrod and his henchman like the couple of cockroaches they are!
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