In the Absence of a Good Life

(24) The Clarion Call

The Villain (A.K.A - The Shark - Gus)

After Shelly had left, I walked up to my room. I needed to be alone to go over the thoughts in my head. I had a lot to think about. I had a lot to do.

I unlocked the door and sat down on my bed. Jimmy had three days left to pay up. It was time to take precautions.

I reached for my phone and dialled the number that I'd contacted many times before. It started to ring. After what could only have been the third ring, the phone on the other end of the line was answered.

'Hello.' I heard the familiar female voice speak.

'Hello, Mrs. Faulkner, I need to hire one of your men again.' I went straight to the point. I heard laughter down the end of the phone.

'Ah, Mr. Dia, a blemish or a dispatch?' I heard her ask. She spoke in code, you could never be too careful, you never knew if there was someone listening in to the conversation.

'Dispatch.' I said sternly. Usually, Mrs Faulkner and I would have had a hearty conversation, but I wasn't in the mood for it today. 

Mrs. Faulkner, or Alice as her friends and family would call her, was an old woman who was highly experienced in a thing called life. She knew the ins and outs of a hard life and had made profits from the misfortune of others. She was the leader of an agency of thugs-for-hire, though its real name was far more sophisticated and cunning than that.

We'd never met face to face. It was for the best of both of us. We had to remain hidden to avoid detection from the police. Not that they would do anything against us. Yet all they needed was hard proof and we'd be jailed for a very long time. If we met, either in private or public, it would jeopardise our freedom.

She passed me on to Tucker. I'd worked with his younger brother many times before. The youngest Tucker, Tatum, would carry out my usual, but rather unpleasant, business. I never wanted to get my own hands dirty. It would, again, jeopardise my freedom. Tatum Tucker would go around fulfilling the consequences that I'd promised to my clients. He'd break legs, tear limb from limb and bust noses, but there was one thing that he didn't do. He didn't kill, or 'dispatch' as Alice Faulkner liked to call it.

That was why I was talking with his brother, Layton Tucker. 

'Good evening Tucker.' I said. I had worked with him once or twice before. 

The relationship between the client and the thug was a formal one, nearly everyone addressed the client as 'sir' or 'mr. so-and-so'. The Tuckers were an exception to this. Their work was so satisfactory that no one complained about their state of politeness, and if anyone did, it would never be carried. 

'It certainly is Dia, what can I do you for?' Tucker didn't call me by my first name, though I'm certain he would if he knew what it was.

'Well, there's this lad that might not be able to meet a payment. I need ya to keep an eye on him. Ya know, just in case he decides  to run.'

'You want me to watch a kid? Surely you could've gotten Tatum to do this?' He asked.

'I could of, but I haven't. Ya see the thing is, if he doesn't pay me in three days...' I started, but Tucker cut me off.

'You want me to kill him.' Tucker stated.

I laughed. 'Yeah.'

'So who is this lad?' Tucker asked.

'His name's James Hansen Dia...'

One Half of the Comedy Duo (A.K.A - The Sarcastic One - Shelly)