An Unanswered Message
Got a phone call today. From baldie. Left a message on my answering machine. Wants me to call back, urgent. Some chance! Where’d he get my phone number in the first place, anyway?
Collected the suit from Max. Looks good. He wanted to know what had kept me. Said he’d had the suit so long he nearly gave it away in the jumble. I said, that’d be the first time in your life you’ve ever given something away. Eric laughed. Max didn’t.
Got another message on the machine. From Big D. That’s the last time I’ll be collecting from Max, he says. Reckons Max has started to suspect. I said, suspect what? He said, he’s starting to suspect that the stuff I pick up isn’t caviar. I said, what the fuck you on about? He says, caviar. Fish eggs. I said I know what caviar is. Seems like the silly bastard’s been telling Max that that’s what we deliver. And Max, the even sillier bastard, believed him. I despair of the stupidity of people sometimes.
Saw Dirty Daniel and Scotch Harry last night. Down the Black Cap. Word is that no one’s seen Welsh Willy lately. Not since the party. Rumour is he’s done a bunk. Rumour is Freddie Fischer paid him off and Willy’s cleared out of town. Nobody’ll miss the bastard.
Got to wait now for more news from Big D. About the new arrangements. I told him I’m not going up to Fischer’s house again. It’s not Fischer I object to. I mean, he’s kind of creepy, I suppose, but I’ve dealt with worse. It’s the other one. Baldie. Wonder why he’s so desperate to get in touch with me all of a sudden...?
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