Jade Monkey

The car slid swiftly through the night and out of old habit I checked behind us to see if anyone was following. Around us moonlight shone down, painting the fields we passed silver. The gentle susurration of waving corn in the nights breeze leant the journey an uneasy feel. I slouched back in my seat, wondering how long it would be before I started looking behind me and found someone there.

All too quickly for my taste the car drew to a halt outside Pete’s place. I opened my door as soon as the car stopped stepped out into the road. The driver revved the engine as I closed the door and I was struck by the suspicion that he had been keeping his speed down for me.

‘Have a nice night sir’.

I’ve got nothing against driving quickly, it’s just that left to my own devices I tend to drive at a more sedate speed.

I looked at Pete’s place, light still shone from out the windows and music hung vibrantly in the air. My watch said it was nearly eleven. The nights party was still in full swing, I walked past a table of Musketeers and the Cardinals guards singing in drunken amity and pulled up a stool at the bar. It took all of minute before Peter handed me my double Jack Daniels.

‘What kept you?’ I complained as I lifted the drink up to take a sip.

He spread his hands depreciatingly grinning ‘The guys were thirsty from fighting all day’

I grinned ‘Tough life in France these days.’

‘How’d it go?’

‘Not here.’

Nodding Peter pointed to the door that led to the back room.

The back room was filled with junk from Peter’s days from working in film, small projectors and cans of film were strewn across tables and the floor intermingled with props. In all the room looked like the debris of a fight in a theatre and a projectionist’s booth. I cleared off a table edge and sat down and waited.

A few moments later Peter came in, the towel from Cornwall that he habitually used to clean the bar with slung over his shoulder. He looked at me for a long second before sitting down.

‘You’re going to stay aren’t you?’

I sipped my drink and sighed. ‘Miss Michelle offered me the case, and I took it.’ I said quietly.

Pete took a sharp breath. ‘You know what’s going to happen if you stay in town?’

‘I know. Don’t worry, I can handle myself.’ I surprised myself by calmly taking another sip of my drink.

Pete was silent for a moment and shook his head in awe. ‘You’re insane.’

He stood up left the room and I swallowed the last of my drink. The music had stopped outside and last orders were being called. Pete came back in holding a fedora, and a trench coat thrust over his arm. He put the coat and hat down on the table and handed me a gun from his pocket.

‘When you took off last time, you left these behind. I guess if you’re determined to pick up your old job you might as well look the part.’

Wordlessly I put the fedora on and slipped on the coat. I took the gun cautiously and remembering Pete’s sense of humour checked that it was loaded. Satisfied I took my pilots hat from my pocket and replaced it with the gun. I felt an odd pang to see my hat lying on the table.

‘Thanks. Borrow your phone?’

‘Its OK and sure. Who do you want to phone at this hour?’

‘Pete as much as I love sleeping in a bar, I figured that a hotel might let me have a comfortable bed.’

He tried to look reproachful and failed, he laughed ‘Try the Haselgrave. Its not as new as the Bridgeman a little bit run down and seedy, much more your style.’

‘Thanks Pete.’ I said with mock asperity.

I phoned the Haselgrave hotel and booked a room for a week and called a cab to take me over there. I said my goodbyes to Pete and waited outside.  Light from the bar still spilled across the street, in the cold I pulled the trench coat tight and waited. The fresh air brought cold, sobering thoughts. Pete was right, I was insane to stay in Loughborough. As my cab pulled up and I got in, a shadow moved in the alleyway opposite. I rested my hand on the gun, and waited for a second before getting in to the cab. I watched the alleyway over my shoulder as we pulled away to Haselgrave.