Crow's Nest [✓]

Chapter 25

Thomas found himself standing in front of the familiar facade of The Sailor once again. The wooden sign above him, swayed in the wind, creaking on its rusty chains.

The muffled sound of music from inside beat against the closed doors, leaking out into the streets. Despite the early hour, the bar appeared to be open.

Thoma quickly scanned the room, hoping to find who he was meant to meet. But nobody approached Thomas. He stood awkwardly by the entrance, his heart racing. Just when he was about to give up, he saw a shadowed figure waving to him from a dark corner booth.

Thomas recognized the figure, even in the dim lighting. He made his way through the crowded room, dodging dancers and other patrons until he reached the shadowy booth.

With a final look around, he slid into the booth, his heart still hammering in his chest. Across from him sat Flint, his face partially hidden in the shadows.

Flint watched Thomas silently for a moment, eyes cool and unreadable. He raised a hand and signaled to the waitress, who arrived quickly with a bottle of whisky and some glasses.

"Nice of you to come," Flint said, his voice smooth and controlled as he poured two shots.

"I don't drink while I'm on duty, especially not when it's 9 in the morning." Thomas said trying to sound confident but he was a nervous wreck inside.

Flint raised an eyebrow, his cool demeanor slipping for just a moment. "No drink? You're no fun, Detective." He took a sip from his own glass, letting the liquid burn his throat.

"But I suppose a serious man like you needs a clear head," he said with a wry smile. He leaned back in his chair, his gaze never leaving Thomas.

"Why did you invite me here? Alone at that?" Thomas asked leaning forward.

Flint chuckled, a sly smile playing on his lips. "Right to business then," he said, twirling the glass of whisky in his hand. "I like a man who gets straight to the point."

He paused, taking a moment to study Thomas again. "I heard what happened to Johnathan, by the way. Not a good way to go out, I must say."

Thomas met Flint's gaze, keeping his voice steady. "I imagine you've heard a lot of things, given your connections," he said with a hint of sarcasm. "I imagine you've also heard we're looking into his death."

Flint chuckled, amused by Thomas's tone. "Of course I've heard. I have eyes and ears all over this town."

He took another sip from his glass, his eyes studying Thomas. "And I know you and your partner have been asking questions, digging a little too deep for comfort."

Flint's tone sharpened slightly. "And that's why I called you here, Detective. To give you a little warning."

He leaned forward, his dark eyes boring into Thomas's. "You're messing around in places you shouldn't be, asking questions you shouldn't be asking. You're stirring up trouble you don't want to deal with."

"Johnathan was one of your men. He dealt for you. I have a feeling you killed him before he could spill the beans." Thomas said, narrowing his eyes.

He swirled the remaining liquid in his glass, watching the amber liquid dance. "I'll ignore that accusation for now. But let's just say I didn't appreciate your partner's little visit to my place the other night. He's not one for subtlety, is he?"

"You own The Rusty Nail as well?" Thomas asked, slightly surprised. Thomas had checked who owned it and it wasn't Flint's name on the contract. Then again, some people, like Flint, try to be more careful, so they put someone else in charge, someone else's name on the contact.

"I own a lot of things, detective," Flint answered cryptically, a gleam of something in his eyes. "Including the Rusty Nail. It's just one more piece of the puzzle, after all."

He leaned back, studying Thomas closely. "You're smarter than I thought, I'll give you that. But you're still just another pawn in this game."

Thomas didn't let Flint's words phase him. He met the man's gaze steadily. "I may be a pawn, but I'm not just going to fall on the board because you don't want me playing."

He took a breath, his next words laced with a hint of a challenge. "I'm going to keep asking questions, keep digging. If you killed Johnathan, I will find out."

Flint chuckled darkly, enjoying the challenge. "Oh, you're a tenacious one, detective. I'll give you that. But you're not the first one to try to get dirt on me. And you know what happened to the last ones who tried?"

He leaned forward, his eyes flashing in the dim light. "They're buried in an unmarked grave somewhere far from here, still whispering secrets to the worms."

Thomas continued to stare at him, not backing down.

A sly smile played on Flint's lips. He realized that Thomas was a stubborn one, not likely to back down easily.

"Alright, you want a hint?" he said, his tone almost mocking. "How about I give you one. But just one, because I'm feeling generous tonight. I've also heard about what your partner did with the Russians."
Flint grinned, swirling his drink in the glass.

Thomas's heart leapt. A hint. It was better than nothing, and he was eager to take whatever he could get. "Yes," he said quietly, trying to keep his voice steady, "I'll take whatever you've got."

Flint leaned back, his smile widening at Thomas's eagerness. "Alright, here's your hint..." He paused for effect, clearly enjoying the moment.

"Look for the name 'Boris'," he finally said, his voice low and even.

Thomas's mind raced. Boris? The name meant nothing to him. But it was a name, a place to start.

He tried to keep his expression neutral, not wanting to show too much interest. "Boris," he repeated, committing the name to memory. "Who is he?"

Flint's smile just widened. "You'll find out soon enough," he said cryptically, enjoying keeping Thomas in suspense.

He downed the rest of his whisky, setting the glass down with a thud. "That's all you're getting from me tonight, detective. But I suggest you use my hint wisely."

Thomas left the The Sailor with a whirlwind of thoughts in his mind. The conversation with Richard Flint had given him a new lead, a name to look into: Boris. But who was this person? How did they fit into the puzzle that was Johnathan's death?

He headed back to the office, determined to start the search for Boris immediately