A Story written by Purityval
(0703440 1770, email@example.com.)
Not like him anymore. He’d thought that inviting Nelly over would help clear his head off Claire but, that seemed not to be the case as his mind was still glued to her.
As he laid on his couch after a short nap, he thought deeply on the next action to take. He thought hard to find what it was that he was missing but he couldn’t place it. After much thought, he sprang up, threw his shirt over and headed out.
Taking a bike he directed him to Claire’s office complex. For one he didn’t want to go with any of his cars as parked cars always draw attentions. Again, the guy tailing him must have seen his face and no doubt could recognize his car, so, ditching his cars was the only option left for him.
Dropping some poles away, he paid off the bike man and trekked the short distance down. It was almost close of work time but, as he walked, Claire’s car zoomed pass entering the complex. He slowed down his step watching the car as two people; the girl who he seen with her in the morning and a guy he couldn’t recognize stepped out from it.
Walking off the road a short distance away from where he had a good view of what goes on in the complex he called a mobile cobbler, an ‘aboki’ to attend to his slippers. He monitored the surrounding looking for anything suspicious but couldn’t find any.
Not long after he paid off the cobbler that he saw Claire walk out with the girl. They had entered her car and drove off without the guy. He had an inkling to wait a little and that he did. Some minutes later, the young man stepped through the automatic door and headed towards the road. As he watched the young man walk away, an instinct told him that he wasn’t just an office acquaintance. The way he looked around as he walked had something to it. To be on a safer side, he had to assume that a private investigator or security guard has been hired.
From a distance he followed the guy till he boarded a taxi. Jumping another cab, he instructed him to keep an eye on the third cab ahead of them which was the one carrying the young man.
He had followed him till the guy took a bend heading towards Claire’s residence. Confirmed, he instructed the cabbie to move on heading to his house.
He despised insults in discharging his duty but, he has gotten loads of them from his current contractor. The process he was following wasn’t how he worked. He never had to report step by step of his operation to a contractor but that was what he’d found himself doing. When the details of the contract was been discussed over the phone, he’d wanted to call it off and walk away but the monetary offer had been so tempting that posterity wouldn’t have forgiven him if he had rejected the offer. Fifty percent of the operation fee was delivered before he even took a step in the contract, which had spurred his interest. But, over time, his interest in the job was waning.
First, his orders had been to follow the girl and await instructions to eliminate her. He had been asked to report any and every move she made outside her office, who she met, talked to, everything to the contractor daily.
He had already followed the girl for a couple of days and was already tired of it. Albeit, he wasn’t finding the job fun as he presumed it would be. For one, the girl led a simple and boring life from his judgment; not to add her workaholic nature which he had found depressing. He had wondered if the girl had a social life at all, but, since it wasn’t his job to worry about her social life, he stuck to going through the depressing routine of following her to work and back.
Still lost in his thought over a bottle of scotch, his cell rang cutting through his thoughts. He had bought a new line for the job as the contractor requested. Looking at the screen he contemplated on taking the call. He didn’t want to, but, business remained business to him. He was already in and for the sake of his reputation he wasn’t going to back out. Clearing his throat, he relaxed on the couch, a cup of scotch in his hand as he answered the phone.
“Give me a description.” He said putting down the cup and taking up a biro ready to scribe down on a piece of paper.
“Fair, broad chest, late twenties, a mark on the neck.” He repeated as he jotted down.
“Ok, consider it done.”
Gulping the remaining content of his cup, he slammed the cup down on his glass table. Picking up his gun, he headed out leaving the piece of paper behind.
To Be Continued…