Shark of Spades

Slight of Hand

I hadn't expected the guy from yesterday to resurface so quickly. To be honest, I would have placed money on the odds that he was either bleeding out in an alley or lying unconscious in a sickroom.

Why is he hunting me down? A  promise to a dead man means nothing. What was he trying to achieve? If he really wanted to protect me, then he should leave me alone. I'm fine by myself, and I'm safer that way, too.

Besides, for whatever reason, I had Jack already tagging along. One is company, two's a crowd...

I took the fastest route to my apartment, using every shortcut I knew, and gathered up everything that was absolutely necessary: ever dollar I'd saved up, basic necessities, a change of clothes, and an extra pair of both sunglasses and gloves.

I packed everything into a black  briefcase the size of...well, a normal briefcase, the kind that makes you doubt whether it contains an average accountant's paperwork or a  cleverly (pardon, not so cleverly, as it's the oldest cliche in the book) hidden bomb, but while my briefcase contained enough money to fund such a dangerous (thrilling) project, I was in need current need of one. I briefly debated leaving Jack an encrypted note before  immediately shooting that idea down. I was as much Jack's cat toy as he was mine, and I was sure that if he ever tracked me down, it'd be an amusing story. Besides, if that guy grabbed the note and followed me, I was screwed.

Before leaving, I took a kitchen knife and slashed all the pillows, cushions, and mattresses, throwing stuffing everywhere. To top if off, I threw things all around, letting them land in discarded heaps. Hopefully, that idiot (if he ever came back here) would assume that, I don't know, a bunch of flying monkeys abducted me.

Mission accomplished, I put on  my sunglasses and ran a hand through my hair before picking up my briefcase and exiting the apartment. From there, I walked to the nearest subway station and got on the first one, which arrived after a mere  three minutes of wait (according to the faithful watch I always kept close).

I hated subways, but it was the quickest way out of town.  Taxis left too much of a footprint to be traced, and the train I wanted wouldn't come by for another thirty-seven minutes. I knew this because I  always made it a point to memorize the train and subway schedules for each new city I moved to for situations like these.

Despite the pride that came from effort being paid off, I found myself incredibly pissed  at that guy. I'd been in Chicago for quite a while, longer than anywhere else recently, and more importantly, long enough to build up a reputation and learn all the important faces. Now I had to start all over and all because of him in the name of his "help." I hope he's enjoying those bullet holes in his arm and leg right now.

I  got off when I felt like it, which turned out to be two hours twelve minutes later. Upon arriving, my first order of business was to find a new place to stay.

***

One hour and thirty-one minutes later, I turned the key in the door of my new temporary residence. It was one open room with a fully-functioning kitchenette and a separate bathroom, complete with the usual and a shower. No baths for me, it seemed.

Without bothering to unpack, I tucked the briefcase in the most secure place I could, at first look, establish, which seemed to be in the microwave.  Don't ask. I made sure that the door was locked before flopping down on the bed and closing my eyes.