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Shock and Awe. (standard:mystery, 1572 words)
Author: HulseyAdded: Mar 23 2004Views/Reads: 4304/2497Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
Two old adversaries meet in unusual circumstances.
 



Royston Armitage, laden with a bunch of grapes and a copy of a detective
magazine marched brazenly along the hospital corridor, winking cheekily 
at any nurses who happened to cross his path. Though he was nearing his 
sixtieth birthday, Armitage still retained a boyish twinkle in his ice 
blue eyes. His dapper Armani suit, silk shirt and three hundred pounds 
leather brogues portrayed him as a man of opulence, but his wealth was 
accumulated at a great personal cost. 

The plump matron stepped in front of the silver-haired stranger,
regarding him with curiosity. The suave man had obviously kept himself 
in shape, his fine tailored jacket unable to conceal his athletic body. 


"Excuse me, Sir. May I ask where you're going?" asked the matron.
Armitage smiled, displaying his pristine capped teeth. 

"My dear, I'm here to visit my friend, Julian Darcy. Could you please
direct me to his ward?" 

"I'm sorry, Sir, but visiting time is not until seven," she said,
glancing at the watch that was dangling from her tunic. 

"Darn it. I've come such a long way to see Julian and I'm due back in
London at eight... How is he?" 

The matron's voice changed from authoritative to  compassionate. "You
haven't been informed?" 

Armitage shook his head. 

The matron studied the now familiar features of the visitor, and her
question was forgotten. "Good god! You're Royston Armitage." The matron 
stepped back, her trembling finger pointing towards the arrogant man. 

"Guilty as charged," chuckled Armitage, sarcastically. "Don't worry; I'm
not going to eat you. You don't want to believe everything you read. 
Besides, I've already dined." 

"I read your book, Mr Armitage." 

"And did you enjoy it, dear?" 

"Enjoy it? I was horrified." 

Armitage fidgeted with the emerald ring that adorned his index finger.
"But you're standing not two feet away, and having a conversation with 
a cannibal. Aren't you afraid?" 

She ignored the question. "Your friend, Mr Darcy, he's dying." 

Armitage displayed no emotion. "We're all dying, darling... Listen;
couldn't you let me see Julian just for a few minutes? I'll be 
eternally grateful." 

The matron pondered, before producing a pad and biro. "Your autograph
may sway my decision." 

Armitage granted her wish before he was led to the ward. 

"Mr Darcy's in here... Ten minutes, that's all I can allow you." 

"Ten minutes will be fine, my sweet." 

The matron hurried away, eager to share her experience with anyone who'd
care to listen. 

Armitage pushed open the door, and inhaled the antiseptic odour that
only hospitals can produce. He focused on the forlorn figure lying in 
bed, a respirator covering his face. 

Armitage tiptoed towards the bed, his friend, Darcy apparently sleeping.
The visitor picked up a framed photograph from the bedside table and 
studied the cheerful young faces of the three young children who were 
posing with Darcy. 



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