by Mark Stewart
A SHOPPER wearing a long blue coat placed two large brown paper bags on the floor in front of the bright glass jewellery case.
“Hey boys, can you help me select a nice piece of jewelry?”
“We’re both security guards; the owner is on the phone. He’ll be back in a minute. I’m positive my companion standing on my left will be more than happy to help.”
The shorter of the two guards stepped away from little Mike’s door and walked three paces to the counter. The other guard sidestepped to block the entrance to the door. Folding his arms, his expression turned to steel.
“Do you like any of these diamond necklaces?” the first guard grumbled. “Any of them will make a nice present.”
“None of these will do. Maybe you have some in the back room?”
“You must possess an invitation to enter the back room.”
“I’ve an invitation,” chirped the shopper. “Little Mike said to come see him the next time I’m in the area.”
“Let’s see the invite.”
The shopper reached into both shopping bags. The first guard scrunched his face as he slid off the glass counter and onto the floor in a growing pool of blood. Realizing what was going down, the second guard reached for his semi-automatic machine gun. A steel arrow fired from the second crossbow finished its journey in his heart. The shopper watched his lifeless body crumble to the floor. Both guards wore the same surprised expression when they died.
The shooter pulled two more arrows from a quiver hidden under his coat and re-loaded the crossbows. He stepped over the dead guard and opened the door to little Mike’s lair.
The two internal guards met the same fate as their two mates outside.
“Don’t move,” yelled the shooter. Dropping the crossbows, he pulled Kendal’s .38 caliber Smith and Wesson from his back pocket and pointed it at Mike’s head.
“Don’t shoot. Take everything. I’m a lousy witness. I’ve been blind since birth.”
“What an interesting statement,” announced the shopper, sarcastically.
Mike nodded vigorously. “May I sit?”
“Sure, you can. I’d hate to see you uncomfortable.”
Groping for the desk, Mike groaned when he fell into the chair.
“Keep your hands on the desktop,” growled the shooter, opening the door.
Mike fidgeted in his seat. Slowly he brought his hands into view.
“Hey Doc, it’s safe to come in now.”
“Let me introduce myself; I’m Mike. You are?”
“Dr. Ashlee Clarke.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you. What name do you go by, Sir?”
The shooter paced back and forth in front of Mike. He stopped in front of the desk. His untamed eyes stared. With a swipe of his hand, he pushed the phone scattering a pile of papers across the room.
“Call me Patrick.” He snorted and recommenced to pace the floor.
“Sir, please sit down. You’re making me dizzy.”
Patrick immediately stopped pacing to stare at Mike.
“Explain to me how I’m making you dizzy when you’re blind.”
Mike sat straight-backed. He looked glued to the seat. His breathing sounded laborious.
“It’s your walking. I can hear your footsteps pacing the floor.”
“It’s fortunate for you, Mikey, you can’t see.”
“Why?”
Patrick took three steps closer to the desk. “I’m not wearing my balaclava. You’d have seen my face.” He pointed the gun between Mike’s eyes. He pulled the trigger.
The gun clicked.
Mike jumped.
“How careless of me, I forgot, I unloaded the gun after I swiped it from Detective Kendal.”
“I’m amazed he allowed you to take it.”
“He had no choice,” stated Patrick. He quickly reloaded the gun.
“We all have choices in this world.”
“I suppose if I thought about your statement I’d have to agree.”
“Let us leave,” said Dr. Clarke.
“I’m not ready. I’ve unfinished business.”
“Enough people have died already. Besides, the man is blind, what harm can he do?”
Patrick stared at Dr. Clarke. Mike saw his opportunity and slowly moved his left foot towards a camouflaged button on the floor. When he felt the top of the button, he pushed his foot down hard, depressing the button.
“I think Mikey is hiding something. Do you agree, Doctor?”
“No.”
Patrick switched his attention back on Mike.
“I sense you and Kendal happen to be good mates. Care to elaborate?”
“Taking a gun off a cop isn’t something you hear about every day.”
Patrick leaned on the desk and waved the gun under Mike’s nose.
“You’re good, real, good. Tell me, what are all these computers used for?”
“They’re talking computers.”
“All twelve?” questioned Patrick.
“Yes.”
“Why do you need twelve computers?”
Mike fidgeted in his chair. Beads of sweat broke out on his forehead. Patrick watched a droplet tumble near his left ear.
“Mikey, are you getting nervous?”
“I have heard enough. If you do not come now, I will leave you here,” insisted Dr. Clarke.
“Take no offence when I tell you I’m going to ignore your statement. Mikey, take off your dark glasses. I want a Doctor’s second opinion on your blindness.”
“I don’t know what you expect to see?”
Patrick stepped back from the desk and leveled the gun at Mike’s heart.
“Take the glasses off, now, or suffer the consequences.” His finger curled, constricting on the trigger.
Mike rolled his eyes and removed his dark glasses. “Satisfied?”
“Doc, come see.”
“I believe he is telling the truth.”
Patrick wagged a finger at Mike’s face. “I’ve inside information you’ve been very naughty. You haven’t been playing by the rules.”
“What rules are you referring to?”
“It is time, we went,” said Dr. Clarke, more urgently, walking towards the door.
“Hold it, I almost forgot, I’ve something to show Mikey.”
“Patrick, come on, or I will leave you here.”
“No, you won’t. Stay calm this will only take a moment. Let’s see what you showed Kendal and his Sheila partner he’s got licking his shadow.” He leaned forward over the desk and pressed twelve monitor buttons to the on position. He watched Mike’s face as the monitors revealed their secrets. “Hey Doc, look at this beautiful colour picture of me talking to the two skinny rodents from the lane? How clever. And there’s a photo of me unmasked standing at the door to the hotel room, the one I burnt to the ground. It’s where Markovic got what he deserved.” Patrick glared at Mike. “These computers don’t talk, do they?”
Mike’s Adam’s apple bobbed up and down.
“I didn’t know the pictures were there.”
“You shouldn’t have talked to Kendal about me. I know everything about his life. Understand?”
Mike sat frozen to his seat.
“Nod, if you understand.”
Mike slowly nodded.
Patrick’s phone jingled to a short sharp made up tune. “Yeah, who is it? Talk fast; I’m busy.”
“I’ve got some information.”
“RA. Good to hear your voice. Hey Doc, it is RA.”
“My information is very important.”
“Speak.”
“It’ll cost you more money.”
“How much more?” quizzed Patrick.
“A thousand bucks each time I call.”
“Are you trying to blackmail me?”
“I call it business. Do we have a deal?”
“It depends on how important the info is?”
“Do we have a deal or do I talk to the Police Commissioner?”
“M
y impatience is growing.”
“Yes or no?” growled RA.
“Deal,” hissed Patrick.
“A silent alarm has gone off. A place called little Mike’s. I thought it might be important for you to know.”
“Have you told Kendal yet?”
“Yes.”
“You shouldn’t have called him.”
“I had to; it’s my job.”
“How long before he arrives?”
“Five minutes.”
“Doc, it’s time to go. RA has called Kendal, and he’s on the way. She’s very naughty. She’ll receive her dues after Mikey.” Patrick picked up the crossbow and quickly reloaded it. “Bye Mike. It’s been a pleasure meeting you.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
