Page 20 of Enkindling

“You’re late,” said the boss. “Greg, was it?”

Greg gulped. “Aye, boss,” he said as evenly as he could manage.

“Did no one tell you I hate tardiness?”

“Aye, boss,” he answered quickly. “But, you see, things got a little dicey.”

“Enough to put you off by a whole day, Greg?”

Greg started to sweat. “Apologies, boss. I-It won’t happen again.”

“Mm,” the boss grunted. “At least give mesomegood news, Greg. Is the stash secure?”

“Well, er, that’s the thing, boss. See, we got attacked. They got away with some of it.”

The boss tapped his fingers rhythmically on the table. “That’s not good news, Greg.” His tone was chilling in its evenness. “Do you have any idea how much that’s going to cost me?”

“Well… I… Uh—” Greg was downright panicking now, but he tried hard not to show it. “Here’s the thing, boss—”

“That’s twice in a row you’ve failed me, Greg,” the boss cut him off. “About a month ago, you were involved in a rather spectacular fiasco. Jump to the present and here you stand with yet another catastrophe under your belt. Do you know what both events have in common? Both times you were late. Something to do with the brothel, I believe?”

“Boss, I—” he swallowed hard. “I was late, that’s true, but because of that, I saw it all happen. I can give you information.”

The boss leaned back in his chair and puffed at his cigar. “Like…?”

“Well,” Greg began, “I didn’t get a perfect look, but I heard something that’s got to be important.”

“Go on…”

“It happened when he – the attacker – killed Remy. He looked at him real strange, and then he said something…‘A gift for the ferryman. Guard it well.’Yeah, that’s what it was. Though, what he was on about I don’t know… And right before he died, Remy called him something. He called him ‘o—’” Greg paused, frowning. “‘O…’,” he tried again. “Hang on, boss, I’ve got it. Hang on a sec…”

“He called him‘Charon’s obol’?” the boss supplied lazily. “‘Obol?’ Is that the word you were looking for, Greg?”

“…Yes,” Greg mumbled miserably. He was stunned. The sky outside had gotten even darker.

“As you can see, Greg, I already have what little information you think you possess.” The boss picked up the pistol that had been lying on the table. Greg’s eyes flew to it.

“I like the nameGreg, you know?” the boss continued. “I’ve known a few good ones in my time.” He examined the gun casually. “But I’m afraid that, concerning you, I’m not feeling very…Gregariousat the moment…”

“Boss, wait—”

“Opium is very expensive, Greg,” the boss spat. “And money doesn’t wait. Your mistake cost me lots of it, besides nearly getting the cops on my tail. But it will cost you more than it ever did me.” He pointed the gun squarely at Greg.

“Boss, please—!” The light had all but faded.

“Godspeed, Greg. Here’s to hoping there are plenty of brothels where you’re going.”

There were two loud bangs and a heavy thud as Greg crumpled to the floor, his life hurrying out of him.

“Get him out of my sight,” the boss ordered. Two men appeared from the shadows instantly and moved toward the body.

The boss turned back around in his chair and stared at the wall, puffing his cigar.Charon’s obol, he thought. So, Will Carter had dared to rear his head after so long, had he? And he had set his sights on his opium trade. That would never do. He released a puff of curling smoke from his lips.

His informants had told him everything he needed to know before Greg’s arrival, including all about Greg’s pitiful failures. The oaf had been the only man to survive the attack, and only because he hadn’t been there on time to begin with. But even if Greg had not heard what he did, the boss would have known the attacker. His contacts on the inside had come through yet again. They had obtained leaked documents confirming that the lone ranger who had thwarted the entire operation was indeed the elusiveCharon’s obol.

A gift for the ferryman. Guard it well.

Those words were the last some men ever heard. But they were reserved only for particularly significant targets. And they had not been spoken in a long time. Remy had lasted admirably long, all things considered.

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