part 4

The bell above the door tinkled as I trudged my way inside Jimmy Hannigan's shop. Figures the coin landed the way I was hoping it wouldn't. But that's me. Jimmy Hannigan was a friend of mine, or what passed as friends nowadays. Still, he was one of the only people in this town who I didn't feel instant animosity towards. Jimmy ran a business, though maybe not quite the business that most people'd be accustomed to.

He glanced up at me from above his newspaper.

"Get outta my shop."

"Come on, Jimmy. Can't a guy drop by to see a friend?"

"Some friend. What'd I tell you about coming back here after what you pulled with my wife?"

"I told ya, Jimmy, she came onto me! What's a guy gotta do?"

"Her? Come onta you? HAW!"

Jimmy didn't have the greatest tact in the world, but he had a heart of gold. At least, I like to think he did, it just made his personality a lot easier to stomach.

"C'mon Jim, I really need your help this time."

"You always 'really need' my help everytime, Theo. What's it this time? You need money? Booze? What?"

"I got lost things that need finding Jim, you're my man for these kinda things."

"Oh, you finally got a job, didja? What'choo gotta do? Find a lost puppy? Petshop's down the road, Theo!"

Jimmy burst out laughing, though I felt like making him burst in another kinda way. The kind that involved lead plugs and leaking bodies. But he was a friend, dammit. An important one. And I wasn't in the habit of plugging friends. Not even moronic ones. Regardless, I reached into my coat. Jimmy flinched a little. He was a good man, fought in the Great War. But thing about wars is it makes you jittery like a cat on cocaine. He'd had his fair share of being plugged once or twice, though not enough to kill him. I'm still convinced the lead did something to his brain, you don't go through something like that and survive with all your marbles.

I pulled out a stack of paper and tossed them onto the table. Jimmy visually relaxed, then took a long hard look at the papers as if sizing it up for prey.

"What's this?"

"With luck, a big fat paycheque."

He took up a stack of the papers and furrowed his brow as he concentrated. Finally, after what seemed like forever he glanced back up at me.

"You know what this is?"

"Was hoping you'd tell me."

"The Esprit de Renard, you fool. You know what it is?"

"Ah... nope."

"It's DEATH!"

To be continued