Stranger Within

By Lynn Bentley

Stranger Within by Lynn Bentley is a compelling novel that can easily be read in a few sittings. However, digesting the content will certainly take much longer as this pressure packed story raises serious questions about morality, society, justice, spirituality and individuality. 

The story opens with the narrator reading a Boston Globe article about the death of his boss. He is not overly shocked as this compelling yet flawed individual had a dark past and loved living on the edge. Outwardly, he doesn’t become overcome with grief.  At the funeral the young man doesn’t show remorse as he is actually more overcome with the responsibility thrust on him than with grief.  The funeral is followed by more everyday events and an ill-fated growing friendship with a former love interest and an ex-CIA Officer close to his boss.  Somehow the forces of nature and mankind conspire to work on him in a manner that causes a sudden outburst of violence that shatters his world.
The second half of Stranger Within follows him as he experiences the legal system for the first time.  He finds that it’s not nearly as cut and dried as he might have imagined.  Not only are the facts of the case brought out, but what seem like completely unrelated events including the funeral are presented to “prove” points about moral character.  He soon finds himself abandoned by friends and trapped in a web of chance events magnified by his own failure to behave as expected by society.
He comes across as being distanced or “alienated” from general society and this is exactly why the novel was titled, Stranger Within. He seems cut off from normal feelings, mostly due to his desire to live honestly without pretense.  He doesn’t want to display false emotions just because they are expected even though, in hindsight, he realizes this is precisely what condemns him the most.
The main character’s encounters with an evangelical fellow prisoner and the prison chaplain provide powerful scenes. He doesn’t find a need to believe in God but can’t convince these characters. As the chaplain works to convince him of the need to find God and forgiveness, this conflicted soul becomes more and more irritated until he becomes irrational.
The book will strike a cord with many readers from older teens on up.  It’s guaranteed to stimulate lots of soul searching and controversy. Look no further for a powerful novel that explores the search to overcome the absurdities of life.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Publishdrive
• Release date: Feb 12, 2019

Lynn Bentley

Lynn Bentley is President of Organization Transitions, a consulting firm specializing in executive search and talent management solutions for Fortune 500 clients such as Autonation, Citigroup, DHL, ECI, Federal Express, Knobull.com, Microsoft, Motorola, Oce, Siemens, and Verizon. In addition to over 20 years of consulting success, he previously held executive positions with Daimler Benz, Exxon, Gillette, and Pfizer.

Book preview

Within

Prologue

My life is in shambles, tomorrow my fate will be decided, how did it all come to this point? My stupid decisions were bound to catch up with me and everyone I trusted deserted me, my fate is in the hands of blind idiots!

At that instant, I thought about Dickens, A Christmas Carol, why I don’t know. It was the moment Scrooge was confronted by his business partner, Jacob Marley who foretold the coming visits of three ghosts. I immediately thought that Scrooge represented my former boss Victor because I knew most details of his flawed past. He had been self-possessed, was selfish, money hungry, having many failed relationships and totally unaware of his effect on those around him just like Scrooge. During the time we worked together, he also became painfully aware of wreckage strewn throughout much of his past.

But wait, I thought, Here I sit in the shit of my own making, where I am really Scrooge and others involved are my visiting ghosts. What a rude awakening these moments of clarity had become.

Things were taking shape, friends were enjoyable, Boston was a fun place to live and then it all crashed around me. How could the death of one person send me, at such an early stage of my life, into a tailspin?

I am not a violent person, seldom even had a violent thought and then in a horrific moment, committed the ultimate act of violence! The events leading up to this moment are branded into my brain and cannot be blocked.

My arrival in Boston and start of a new job went smoothly. Even though Victor my boss, was an enigma, we hit it off. I soon learned that his drive took him to the extreme and usually, disastrous results. It became clear that, what many viewed as his courage, vision, and resolve were really recklessness, denial and inability to change course. Also, I was working in the midst of the murky interplay between corporate, military and intelligence communities.

Victor was obsessed with the vision that he could override the shady origination of his company by, what he thought, was improvement of the lives of those around him. As CEO, he was both highly engaging and ruthless. When he came in contact with others, they were enthralled. On the other hand, with his co-workers and friends, he remained a mystery. This web of deceit and shadowy communications slowly led to failure and needless violence.

Our world unravelled before we knew what was really going on and crashed just as I was becoming familiar with the people around me. Becoming so absorbed in their fate, I was drawn into the inner fabric of the tragic events as they unfolded. All were innocent victims which created a profound sense of loss and the feeling of futility as the senseless violence and betrayal hit them.

Was it really my role to put the genie back in the bottle? My efforts should have focused on getting my life back on track. Getting sucked in by Victor's crazy friend Dominick was a huge blunder. Well, I guess it all was just meant to happen!

Chapter 1

My hero, mentor and kindred spirit died. The Boston Globe headline screamed: Victor Landsdown, Boston Business Leader Murdered. I tried to help him but failed.

The Coroner shipped his body to the funeral home I selected in Brookline. I planned to spend two nights there, keeping vigil with the body. I had already decided to quit my job and leave Boston soon after Victor's funeral. Mark, who replaced him as CEO, was shocked when I handed him my resignation. He seemed dazed after briefly objecting as he wandered out of my office. Mark, of all of us, I thought you would understand.

Later, it seemed strange that I would attempt to explain. At some point, he will get honest and come clean. When we spoke, Victor still seemed alive. My vigil made it real, no more denial.

I headed to the Back Bay MBTA station to catch the two PM train to Brookline Village. The excitement I felt about leaving Boston was intoxicating. Briefly, I wondered if the funeral director would have a black tie I could borrow?

I ran down the station stairs to catch the train as the last car doors were closing. Luckily I found the last open seat. The sun's glare, smell of sweat, bumpy turns and shrill brakes upset my stomach. The student in the seat next to me began talking and I grunted a response. People can annoy me.

The funeral home was a short walk from the Station. As I walked in, a tall, lanky man with a large bulbous nose met me at the door and introduced himself as the funeral director. I explained who I was and that I planned to stay with the casket until the funeral.

He explained, I have followed the news about Mr. Landsdown's death and surprised that you have handled the arrangements. Usually, a senior executive is in charge of matters such as this.

I said, I was his assistant and also a dear friend.

He added, You seem so young but I'm sure you are quite capable. It just seems odd.

He was stating the obvious. The Company had hired me into my first job after graduation as Victor's Executive Assistant. I finally met him several weeks after beginning my job. He quickly grew to trust and confide in me, I think because he admired my innocence. So much that he had me arrange a meeting with a former lover who was married to his VP of Marketing. After they rekindled their relationship, it all turned extremely ugly. His life and Company events unraveled as this ended and he withdrew from life. My attempts to remain connected and provide support were ignored.

The funeral director never stopped talking and eventually said, Can I take you to see the body?

I stood and followed him as he led me down a long dark hallway. He continued talking as we walked.

We are still preparing the body, this type of death makes the staff extremely nervous.

He led me into a large, stark room with a stainless steel table in the center. On the table lay Victor's naked body.

Here you are Mr. Wikford. My knees became weak, the bullet hole in the center of his forehead was clearly visible.

We are preparing for the funeral tomorrow afternoon. That will allow you time to spend a full day with the body. You also specified that we should get a priest to conduct the funeral. I contacted a parish near-by and they will provide a priest. We will finish preparing the body and bring the casket to the viewing area.

I told him we appreciated his help. This was all my doing, Victor hated anything religious.

As I entered the chapel, the sun filled the room with bright warmth. There were a few wooden chairs for sitting with many stacked along the back wall.

I heard the funeral director directly behind me. The short walk made him wheeze, must be a smoker.

As you see, we closed the casket, we can open it if you prefer.

I walked toward the viewing area while telling him to keep it closed.

That is outrageous! It should be open.

I responded, Forget it!!

The funeral director turned abruptly and walked out of chapel. The helper who had returned to the back of the room joined me next to the casket. He pulled up two chairs saying, I understand, may I sit with you?

I nodded and we sat down near the casket. The room was taking on a calm air and the late afternoon sun was relaxing. The buzzing of a large black fly broke the momentary peace. Suddenly I asked, How long have you worked here? After a long pause he responded, Ten years.

That opened the door and he continued talking. He was astounded that he was ending his work life in a funeral home. He was seventy and spent his entire life in and around Brookline.

I told him that I moved from the Midwest to Boston a year ago to work for Mr. Landsdown and the last year had turned into a nightmare.

He stared back at me with a vacant look in his eyes. We sat silently and I lost track of time. The chapel turned dark and he stood to turn on several lights.

When he sat back down, he asked me if I would like some coffee. I agreed and he went into an adjacent room, then, quickly returned with a large heavy cup filled with steaming coffee. I drank the coffee while he started talking again.

Will his friends and family be coming soon? I better set up some chairs and brew a large pot of coffee.

The stuffiness in the room was getting my stomach going again. I asked if they had a way to increase air flow in the room. No, but I will check with Mr. Farth to see if he knows, he responded. After that, I got lost in my own thoughts.

What I recalled was Victor and Sherri standing together next to the protecting wall of his roof top patio. Their heads were close as they peered into the darkness looking for Mark and Sherri's patio lights. Later I tried to advise him that rekindled relationships seldom work. He repeated several times back to me, It's got to work! A few weeks later he was shot sitting next to his patio Olympic size pool.

A cool blast of air brought me back; someone must have opened the entrance doors. A small group of people had come into the chapel and I strained to see if I recognized any of them. They were talking softly while they sat drinking coffee. They appeared as shadowy figures to me and their voices mixed to create a gentle hum. Didn't