A Gift

24. november 2013 at 18:50 | Thalia Contostavlos
……I don't usually tail my friends for one very simple yet very significant reason, I wouldn't like to be followed by one of my friends myself and would probably hate them for even trying to do so, therefore I wouldn't usually consider doing the same thing to them. This afternoon was an exception though, Saul had left our brownstone with a very confusing remark which led me to believe he had some wicked intentions for his evening stroll around the city.
……He said he needed to brush up on his knowledge of local shops, which wouldn't have been suspicious any other day because he does these "brush ups" every other month, but it was completely unthinkable the day after Orrie told me they checked out the new shops just last week.
……I put on my winter coat, stuffed a pair of leather gloves in my pockets and went on to tail my best friend. It was a nasty business because Saul is one of the best operatives in New York and almost anyone who would even attempt to shadow him would be dealt with accordingly. I wasn't half bad myself, however, and decided to give it a go. I was able to walk in his footsteps for approximately fifteen minutes before he got a wind of something fishy and started looking around suspiciously. I barely managed to dive behind a phone booth, when he suddenly stopped and turned around in front of a bookstore. When he was satisfied the cost was clear, he went inside.
……I frowned in confusion. Maybe he was really just checking out some of the local stores for any new entryways or buck-loving shop assistants that usually become useful when one needs a refuge from one authority or the other. When he came out five minutes later with a package that was most assuredly a book, I was lost. I went to meet him halfway.
……"Hey, Saul. I wasn't aware you do these routine brush ups so often. Orrie mentioned one just last week."
……Saul shook his head. "I knew someone was following me, you sneaky bastard."
……I shrugged. "What do you have in that package?"
……"A murder weapon, some blood-soaked hankie and five hundred bucks."
……I grinned at him. "Yeah, right. Don't tell me, I'll find out anyway."
……He smiled and tucked his precious package underneath his coat. "You will, on Monday," and with that he flagged a cab and disappeared down the road. I raised my eyebrows. On Monday? What the hell was on Monday?
……It wasn't until I was five minutes from our brownstone that I remembered, that on Monday was the most important day of the whole year. My birthday.

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