The Next Link in the Chain.

The pub was not noted for its atmosphere and certainly not for its décor or comfort. The beer was nothing special and the landlord was a miserable bastard. Despite these apparent deficiencies, the place was packed out. Mostly the drinkers were men, but I noted a few women here and there, all concentrating on getting pissed with a hint of desperation thrown in. No sexism here, getting hammered was the shared aim.

I never sat down to eat or drink in public without taking certain precautions. There had to be more than one entrance or exit point and I always sat with my back to a solid wall, facing the door. No exceptions. I didn’t even notice I was doing it any more, it had become second nature.

A woman reeled past, a call of nature interrupting her alcohol intake. She’d evidently set out to achieve the slut look and managed it spectacularly. The skirt length went far beyond fashionably sexy and was well into fuck me now territory. She glanced at me, looked away. Time and place were wrong; today was all about getting pissed, as fast as possible.

The man I’d come to see sat down in the chair opposite. Two fellow drinkers moved out of earshot, creating an oasis of calm. This man had that effect on people. He’d clocked me when he came in. A strange face in a sea of familiarity. Collected a drink from the bar, no money offered or requested, and sat down opposite me. Who else would I be here to see?

I said nothing, took a sip of my beer. When I looked up he was staring at me, the piercing eyes like smooth grey pebbles in a riverbed. Hard and unforgiving. His hair was jet black and scraped back to reveal a prominent widow’s peak. Clipped and razor cut his hair suggested a concession to vanity. A possible weakness. I stored the information away for future use.
Despite myself, the hairs rose on the back of my neck as he spoke. ‘Know you, do I?’
“No. But I know you.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Know of you anyway.”
‘Right.’

Sudden realisation arrived on his face like the fast-forwarded dawn of a bright new day. ‘Tommy sent you?’
I nodded.
He took a long pull at his drink, half-emptying the glass.
‘He’s a twat, Tommy.’
I said nothing, biding my time. He looked at me, as if expecting a reaction. When it didn’t come, he smiled. Only his lips moved, the eyes were blank pools.
‘Loyal,’ he said, eventually. ‘That’s sound. You’ll be wanting me to put a word in then?’
I nodded.
‘I can do that, pass the word along. May not be enough though.’
He stood, scraping his chair on the floor. ‘Get yourself another drink,’ he said, over his shoulder. ‘Won’t cost you this time. I’ll make a call.’
He walked away. The noise levels rose, markedly as the door closed behind him. This was a man who was no stranger to violence, not a man to cross, even inadvertently.
He was a link in a chain. The man he had gone to telephone made this man look like a presenter on kids’ television. Getting to meet him hadn’t been easy so far, but this was the easy part. Gaining his trust, that would be a lot harder. Others had tried. I’d met one of them in Stoke Newington hospital. Dan had worked with me a couple of years ago. He was good. Not any more. Not since his last job ended.
Now, he ate through a straw, would never walk again and he’d certainly not be winning any beauty contests. Having your ears cut off with a bread knife doesn’t help anybody in the looks department.
Dan had tried and failed. The baton had passed to me now. I decided to have another drink after all. May as well take advantage while I still could.