Of Lights and Shadows (Book 4)

35) Date Night

Monday came upon them quickly, so fast in fact that they didn't have time to prepare for it. Not that there was really anything they needed to prepare for. The day started early and there was an unfamiliar tingle in the air around Dutch and Silence as they headed off for work. This was the day Dastardious had predicted the Shadow would show up, the day their job would be done. They could all go their separate ways and carry on with their lives.

It was a strange feeling for them to feel and consider and a strange knowledge to know, after what felt like months it would be over with. There would be no need for parents to fear that their children would be next, and those that did lose their children would finally have justice. It would be a closed case, provided Dastardious was correct.

The sun started to set and cast a golden glow over the bustling city. Already all over Manhattan, lights were lit and the city was becoming just as bright as it had been during the day with the sun. Dastardious saw this all from the open window of his bedroom as he studied himself in the mirror, checking to make sure his tie was straight, his coat fitted nicely, his hair brushed and he was ready for the night.

A slight bulge beneath his jacket told that he still had his holster on, but it disappeared every time he moved and whenever he sat down. While it was just dinner that he was attending you never really knew what might happen. Giving his tie one final last adjustment before patting his pockets to make sure he was carrying everything he needed, he grabbed a hat from the shelf in his closet before locking up.

Giving his watch a glance before entering the elevator, he sighed and tucked his hands into his pockets. He was going to be early. That was if you trusted the traffic to be moving at a decent speed and had a cabby that knew how to drive. Of course, there were always way of making a cabby drive fast, you just had to know all the tricks. A taxi pulled to a stop the moment Dastardious raised an arm and he climbed in. Maybe he had found a good one, a lucky chance.

'Take me to Saint Marie on 205 Thompson Street. I want to be there just after seven thirty.' He didn't want it to appear at though he were eager by arriving early, nor did he want to arrive on time because it would give him a bad look if Alice knew he was punctual. He might have to continue to be so.

He disliked being late for things, but he knew how certain things worked, and arriving slightly late was one of those things. He knew woman hated it when men were late, yet they were often always late themselves, so why couldn't they take doses of their own medicine?

The driver did exactly as Dastardious asked and drove at just the right speed to reach the restaurant at seven forty.

'Not bad,' Dastardious told him as he stepped out into the cool air. Ten minutes was enough time for people to start getting impatient.

Saint Marie was a place he had never been to before. It looked Spanish, or something along those lines, and he tried to remember what it was that Spaniards ate. Soft guitar music filled the air as he entered through the doors, and as he saw the interior all doubts that it was Spanish left his mind.

Pictures of bulls lined the walls, caught in different moments during fights. The place was awash with red and gold and candles burned around the place, adding light to the dark corners as well as casting shadows, which lent the place a mysterious air. It all seemed very upper class, not at all the usual place he would go for a meal.

Through a bead curtain that hung across the arch that separated the front desk from the dining area he could see two pillars, of what looked like roughly carved stone, set apart at equal distances, a small stage sat in between with tables set around it. A live band was currently playing.

'Alice Aforethought's table,' he said to the man greeting at the front desk. He didn't look or sound Spanish.

'Name?

'Dastardious Hollow. My name shouldn't be on the reservation because I didn't book.'

'No, sir, Miss Aforethought made the reservation but requested that we make sure that it is you before sending you through.' He stood looking expectantly with his arms clasped neatly in front of himself.

'I see. So is the name enough or are you asking for a little something more?'

The man held Dastardious's gaze with all the marks of a professional. 'Yes, sir.'

'Very well.' Fishing about in his pockets, Dastardious found his wallet, and flicking it open showed the man his badge.

'Thank you, sir. Right this way.'

The man led him through a line of tables, each one extravagantly decorated in a silver tablecloth. A candelabra in the centre burning scented candles. A thin vase with three red roses also sat in the centre. Each table was alike, except for the placements, which were different depending on how many were eating at a table.

Dastardious recognised a couple of the men sitting at the tables as he passed, he even saw a woman he knew, but he doubted they would recognise or remember him. He was shown presently to a small, empty table set for two.

'She's not here,' Dastardious noted, turning to the man who had pulled out a chair for him.

'No, sir, Miss Aforethought has not arrived yet. She said to say that it would be a possibility that she would run late.'

'Right. Well in that case I'll have a glass of white, whatever you've got.'

'Very good, sir. Would you like to see a menu now or wait?'

'I'll wait.'

'Very good,' repeated the man before disappearing.

So, there was a possibility of her running late, was there? It almost made him smile. There he was planning on being late and she had already phoned ahead that she would be. He wondered exactly how late she was planning on being. If he was ten minutes late and she wasn't here then did that mean that she would be soon?

A waiter arrived with his glass of white and then left him to return to his thoughts and musings. Gazing around the room, he studied the place. Some of the decorations looked slightly tacky to him, but if you went by the men and women seated around him then apparently it was a good place. They all wore expensive clothing and from a glance at the menu of the couple at the table next to him, the food was expensive, but looked good. It must have tasted good as well judging from the moans they made while eating and the comments telling each other to remind them to compliment the chef.

Already he felt like leaving, if people had to make noises and comment like that then was it worth it? The whole mood about the place was making him feel uncomfortable; it was not a place he felt he would return to.

The band changed tunes to something with a bit more upbeat, and a woman in a large, frilly red and black dress came out and joined them on stage to sing. She carried a beautiful tune, and as Dastardious listened he wished he could understand what she was saying.