Part 2 of 4

Still three weeks ago

Richard's chin jerks up to see the dark silhouette of a man bulking over the empty chair at his table. The stranger is leaning on the chair like he can't quite stand up unassisted and now Richard remembers hearing shuffling steps following him out of the bar.

Something about the man's demeanor is unsettling, especially the way the man seems to be staring like he's trying to make up his mind whether to start a fight or not. Oh, great, Richard thinks, my first attempt at 'fitting in' and I get into a bar fight! His hand slips into his trouser pocket and finds his cell phone just in case he needs to call in the cavalry. He replies coolly, "Excuse me but you must have mistaken me for someone else."

The man listens then cocks his head, "Oh, I think I know you pretty well, my little puffed up pouty bird." He hauls out the empty chair and drops into it, "Let's you an' me talk a bit, hmm?"

At this Richard has absolutely no response, not verbal at any rate, but his hormones surge mightily. He is once again back in Croydon with all the japes and pranks and his phone number scribbled on bathroom walls and the late-night phone calls that blighted his sleep for months on end until the ink wore off or the stalls were painted, whatever. He shudders mightily and pulls himself together. No. No more. He'd put up with it in England because he never had a choice. But here? Here, he does. It's a small island and if he doesn't nip this in the bud right now, his life will be hell, pure and simple. Besides, he's got his authority and his team behind him. He's got leverage here and he's damn well going to use it! He levels a steely-eyed glare at the man and slowly rises to his feet.

The man must think he's got lucky because he grins drunkenly and wobbles back to his feet… but if he thinks he's got a willing partner for the evening then he's got another think coming. Just as Richard takes a deep breath and readies with dire threats and reprimands… a new voice cuts in and interrupts him yet again.

"Here now, Joolee, whatchoo think yer doin', botherin' our shiny new Chief o' Police wit yer scuzzy self? G'wan witchoo, ya pigma! He not dat way… an' even iffn he wuz, he got more sense den go anywheres wit you!" Behind 'Joolee', another dark shape bulks even larger. Huge hands land on Joolee's shoulders and the man is lifted and spun around and frog-marched back into the bar with force.

Richard watches all this, mouth slightly ajar, his blood jumping and his fists clenching in reflex. The other patrons watch as Joolee and his honour guard go in as the barman comes out with a gently steaming plate, pitcher, and glass on a tray. The barman shakes his head, tips his chin at his audience, and everyone turns back to their meals as if nothing has happened.

The barman glides to Richard's table and murmurs, "I'm very sorry for that, Chief. Joolee is drunker than I thought. We'll sober him up in the kitchen and send him home out the back door. Please don't press charges. We try to keep a low profile here."

Richard has eyes only for his meal; the aromas rising into the velvety night air are ambrosial. He sits with alacrity and picks up his utensils, "Oh, um, well, no harm done. Thank that second gentleman for me, will you? He saved his friend from a real bollocking. I may not be that big but I can put an arm-lock on anyone if I have to and read The Riot Act like nobody's business."

The barman gives his suited customer an appraising look, mutters, "I'm sure," and scarpers.

Peace and quiet descends on the little lot and Richard enjoys his repast to the fullest. Some twenty minutes later he pushes back his chair, lays his cutlery across his pristine plate (he hadn't licked it clean but, by god, it was a NEAR thing!), and sighs with contentment. He'd heard Joolee being 'sobered up' inside the little building, heard a door open and close, heard the grumbling voice fade into the distance, and sighs again, this time in consternation.

What IS it about me that draws this kind of attention? he wonders then realizes someone is hovering just outside the aurora of his candle and he groans. People are still eating so he pitches his voice low in order not to spoil their meal, "Look, I don't know what you've heard but I am most definitely not interested in the slightest so you can just shove off, mate!" The shadow chuckles and, instead of slouching away, it steps into the light and Richard is astounded to see Jacko Gardiner take shape.

Jacko huffs a small laugh, "Me, I know. I keeps my ear t' the ground, allus listenin' an' watchin' an' I know you ain't dat way… so you kin relax an' digest yer meal. I only come t' tell you Joolee has been brought up t' speed an' he sends his apologies."

Richard thinks about this then nods, "Um, well, thank you. Was it you that took him inside?"

"Yah, him a bit drunker n' usual, tha's all. He'll mind his manners aroun' you after this." Jacko grins menacingly, "An' iffn he don't, I'll remind him, yes aye!" He steps closer, drops his voice, "Listen, you ain't gonna make any trouble over this, are yah? Lanny runs a quiet place where men kin relax an' not worry. You comin' tonight wuz a bit of a shock. I'm the only one who's had any dealin's wit you so I been sent out t' ask. You ain't gonna shut us down, are yuh?"

END – part 2