Licensed Murder

[ 5 ] .....

Just wanted to thank @SleepyGarfield @ClaireTslove @Xuridoce and @Amykim1 for being uber awesome and supportive friends XD You guys rock! And I'd like to take the time to thank YOU for reading my story :) I'm so stoked to have reached 300 reads and I hope you'll stick with LM to the end! Dedicated to @thefewunreachable for her awesome review :)

PEACE OUT BROS! (>.<)y

Hell, how thin was this chick? I walked out of the bathroom wearing the tight uniform of the young waitress. Ditching my old pass, a new one now hung around my neck.

“Florence Gaster. 24. Waitress.” I repeated. The actual lady that this identification belonged to happened to be semi-naked inside a cubicle with a good dose of sleeping pills. Unavoidable circumstances?

I rounded the corner quickly, arriving at the corridor lined with the tea trolleys. Thankfully my fellow waiters were busily preparing their teas to notice the change in appearance of Florence. Mimicking their actions, I began preparing the desired tea of Mr Rogers, Earl Grey, which was neatly written on the back of the name card.

Ethylene glycol. Also known as; my best friend. This little acid has worked along-side me on various missions and provides an easy escape after the deed is done, well, easier than say, if you were to shoot someone. Death is slow and silent, knocking out organ systems systematically over the course of 72 hours. Perfect. Bastard Rogers won’t suspect a thing. One hopes…

The steam began rising from the spout of the kettle as I slipped the little package of ethylene glycol out from under the hem of my sleeve. I one quick the wrist movement, the package was open and its contents poured into the tea cup. Next, I added the boiling water and the sugar. As I took the small tea bag to the bin, the doors to the meeting room flew open and the front pair of waiters began their decent into the hall.

I walked slowly, a couple of meters away from the person in front of me until I swung the trolley around to line up on the sides of the room. Suddenly, a harsh whisper travelled down my ear canal.

“What are you doing? You’re up first!” Ah, shit. I quickly pushed the trolley toward Mr Rogers, the flower bouquet tipping precariously on the edge. I stopped beside his massive chair. And massive body. I picked up the saucer and placed the tea cup silently beside his right arm.

“Your Earl Grey tea, sir.” I said quickly before retreating back to my designated place in the line. Phew.

***

Mr Rogers entered his extravagant executive suite after having his daily cup of Earl Grey. Everything was as it should be. His subordinates had been told off. An employee had been fired. He had inflicted another 3 hours of torture on 40 of his finest workers. And the documents disclosing New York City’s under-workings had been written up. He sighed in happiness as he popped open a bottle of champagne. But something didn’t feel right. Had he eaten something bad earlier in the day?

***

“News just in, 57 year old CEO of Quilton Hotel, Mr Walt Rogers, has been found dead in his executive suite in the hotels main building. Police forensics are currently investigating his cause of death and an autopsy is scheduled to be performed. All we know is the case is being treated as ‘not suspicious’-“ The Daily News reporter was positioned outside the hotel as she spoke.

“Good job Iris, nice to see you didn’t stuff out this time” Thames said with a dashing smile.

“Oi, I’ve only stuffed up once, okay? It was just bad luck!” I defened.

He chuckled. “I know, but I’m not going to let it go”

“I know”

Sitting in HQ with the pleasant smell of cheese wafting through the door was nice. I took a deep breath in and flopped onto the couch, my arms and legs spread-eagled like a dead cat. I turned off the TV and closed my eyes. Mate, I haven’t slept in two days waiting for the bastard to die.

“Hey, wanna go out?” Thames called from his office.

I sat upright too quickly, my vision began swimming. “What?”

“No, no. Not like that you idiot. I mean, do you want to go out to eat something?”

“Oh, yeah. Sure.” Whoops.

We walked in silence down the street, the traffic at a complete stand still. I looked up at the vast grey sky and the far rolling clouds that loomed over-head. I would welcome the rain they brought, the hard pitter-patter of rain drops on my skin was oddly satisfying. Thames came to a halt in front of a sickly pink shop named ‘Lovers Diner’.

I raised an eyebrow. “I thought it was not like that?”

He burst out laughing, his eyes watering slightly. “God, you’re persistent! You like me don’t you?”

Oh no he didn’t. I suddenly jumped from behind him and latched myself onto his muscular figure like a monkey. “What did you say?” I said hitting him on the head repeatedly.

In between his laughter, he gasped for air saying “Stop”.

When I finally decided that he had received enough punishment and embarrassment from innocent bystanders, we entered the diner.

“Hey, we got a new case.” Thames said whilst looking a text on his ohone that arrived seconds ago.

“What? Already?”

“Yeah. It’s for you again…” He said while reading through the document. He began sniggering half way through. Shit, this can’t be good. “You have to become the bodyguard of Mr Christopher Alkine who is suspected to own corrupted documents about the agency.”

“A kill?”

“No. You just have to keep him under surveillance. But, you’ll have to do a few undercover assassinations while on the job.”

“Hmm, sounds pretty fun. But, why were you laughing?”

Thames paused for a moment, his eyes focused somewhere on the floor. “Christopher Alkine just happens to be mafia boy.”

My eyes popped out of their sockets.