Timeline: 0958, Friday 20th April :: Hapsburg Hotel
"…If that’s good enough for you then Bud, I’ll fax you over a copy of the subpoena and send it to you by overnight mail. I really need to keep this strictly confidential. You sure you can set things up from noon today?”
The worry lines on Flik Donovan’s brow disappeared and he took a deep breath in relief on hearing the positive reply from the Head of Security at Continental Cellular in Omaha.
“That’s great. Thanks Bud, I owe you,” he hung up and scratched his forehead as he wondered. ‘So what do I do now. What’s the best way to go about this thing?'
He stood pondering his options when the lights went out. Flik was using the manager’s small, private office in the centre of the building, under the main staircase. It had no natural lighting. He was unfamiliar with the office layout and froze; looking around him in the darkness for a glimmer of light. He could see nothing except inky blackness in every direction.
The noises of people hurrying around outside the office consoled him that the lights would soon be on again. The Hapsburg Hotel had invested in an emergency generator because the power outages were so frequent.
‘Damn power outages, damn power company,’ Flik moaned as he stood waiting. The throaty roar of a Caterpillar diesel engine coming to life sounded through the hotel, followed soon afterwards by the flash and flicker of the multiple fluorescent bulbs. He closed his eyes to wait until the lighting stabilised, then with a nod of satisfaction, made his way to the small, private bar cum courtroom to rejoin the judge.
Denman was leaning on the bar accepting another of his ‘specials’ from Adam when Flik walked in. The judge looked into the grim face of the Sheriff. He immediately noticed the lack of stress lines and a more relaxed composure about the lawman’s bearing.
“All done? I s’pose you’ll be off now to Omaha to deliver that subpoena. Better have a drink before you go. Adam! Whisky for the Sheriff.”
Flik held up his hands in polite submission.
“Thanks judge. Adam. But I have a lot to get through this morning. I’ll take a rain check on that drink.”
The judge snorted with disappointment.
“P’raps you’re right it’s a long drive to Omaha. Wouldn’t want you getting stopped by a breath test on the way.”
They laughed easily. Flik leaned on the bar facing the judge and addressed Adam
“But I will take another of your coffee’s if that’s OK Adam?”
“Coming right up Sheriff.”
Flik sighed with frustration. “I’m sure I’m right about this, judge. What gets me is what other lies Mecklen might’ve told me?
Denman took a deep swig of his drink, smacked his lips and shook his head.
“That’s exactly right, once a man has lied to you once, you never know if he’s lying or not whatever he tells you afterwards. You gonna throw the book at him?”
“I’d sure like to. I’m sure I could find enough to put him away in Leavenworth for a spell. But if I do that, I’ll not be able to keep it quiet inside the town boundaries.”
The judge shrugged. “And is that important? Like the good book says, shit happens everywhere. It’s why we’ve got judges and courts.”
Denman’s unblinking eyes bored into Flik who felt there was an accusation behind them; that he had not told the whole story. Donovan crossed his legs awkwardly as he leaned on the bar: glad that Adam had returned bringing his coffee. It gave him the chance to change the subject, which he took after vigorously stirring pink sweetener into the black beverage.
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The 'Cousins'
General FictionEnglishman Greg Mitchell has served only two Gods in his lifetime- Making Money and Himself. Now at 35 years of age and after his second divorce and loss of his business he faces a future with no family or friends- he does have some money in the ban...
