“It’s so hard these days, just to find someone on the level,” said John Herschberg. He looked across at the man sitting opposite him. “Every time you meet someone, they’re either scam artists, or they’re cops trying to set you up.” He looked across again. The man remained impassive, the obvious strength in him lying dormant.

“I’m really glad to have met you,” John continued. The man was starting to look bored. Good, thought John, keep up the nervous small talk; it’ll keep him from getting too suspicious.

     Finally the man responded. “So how do you know I’m what you’re after?”

     John pointed to the crude prison tattoos on the man’s hands; love and hate on the knuckles and a swallow on the webbing of his right hand.

“Those tell me you’re not a cop,” he said. The man's hands remained motionless, not even a flinch towards covering them, no self-consciousness showing at all. Wherever he got those tatts had obviously taught him to show no weakness.

     “I don’t mean that,” said the man. “I still don’t know exactly what the hell you’re after.”

     John smiled inwardly. He was biting. This was where he was trying o avoid himself getting caught in a police sting, make sure he could get off with a lawyer screaming entrapment. Well it wasn’t going to come that easy.

“You seem a man who can handle most things,” said John, “Maybe anything.”

     The man said nothing for a second. Then he took a long swallow of his beer. “You’re starting to bore me mister, you better start talking fast or I’m walking.”

     “We’re both busy men,” said John. “I understand your impatience, so maybe the time has come for total honesty.” He paused for a few seconds.

“I want you to kill my wife.” He looked for any reaction; there was nothing, almost as if he hadn’t heard him.

At least now they both knew the other wasn’t a cop; no cop would come out and say it like that. The silence still remained.

“Are you down for it?” said John, “Or have I been wasting our time?”

He put a little bit of contempt into the last part. Sure enough it got his attention. His eyes suddenly focused straight on John, the instant aggression shaking him. He didn’t need to act scared.

“I figured somebody like you would be able to do it,” he said hastily. “At least you’d know somebody reliable to do it.”

     “How much?” said the man finally, the aggression starting to subside.

     “Let me tell you the plan,” said John.

     “How much?” said the man, interrupting with a quiet level tone.

     John was silenced for a few seconds. Then he began to talk in nervous, hasty gasps.

     “There’s two ways to get paid,” said John. “You can get five K before, and five K after, no problem, or you can handle it the way I want it to go.”

     “I’ve got a place up in Sherwood,” he continued. He waited for the reaction that address usually got, but there was nothing. He continued. “The security system has had problems. I’ve managed to put off getting it looked at for a while now. I’m off on business trips all the time; it would just be her, no staff. I want it to look like a burglary gone wrong. There’ll be no alarm, just get it done, then spend the rest of the night taking what you want from the place. It’s all her stuff anyway, I’ll be glad to get rid of it. Should be worth a hell of a lot if you can find the right person to buy it.”

     “Too risky,” said the man. “Stolen goods connected with a homicide, the cops’ll be putting out the word on them. Even if whoever did it could actually get the stuff offloaded, the price would be too low if the word had got out.”

     “Well just the five K, and take anything you feel like.” This guy was planning on taking the money, and then also cleaning the place out John thought. That was okay though, whatever it took.

He finally came out with it. “Do you know anybody who could do it?”

     “Maybe,” said the man, “I’ll ask around. I’ll need some money up front to show good faith.” John smiled and reached for his wallet, opening it low down beneath the table. He extended his hand with four fifty-dollar notes concealed in his palm. The man took the notes with a swift and smooth action.

John tried not to smile. Once he had tasted his money he would be back for more.

     “If anything gets set up I’ll meet you back here in a week,” said the man.

     “Too late,” said John, I’m off on another trip this Friday. If we can’t meet before then it’ll have to be a couple more weeks. How about Monday night?”

        “Maybe,” said the man, “I’ll see what happens. If I’ve got something arranged I’ll be here.” At this he got up and left with no further words. John watched him go, with two hundred of his dollars. He’ll be back he told himself.

***

     John came back to the bar Monday night but couldn’t see his contact. Give it an hour or so he thought. If he didn’t show he’d go someplace else and try again. He’d be out two hundred dollars but was more worried about having to go through the same story again. Sooner or later he’d pick a guy who’d talk too much.

He waited at the same table they’d sat at the last time. John sipped the beer slowly. He wanted to remain clearheaded. This wasn’t the place you walked into carrying five grand, but he could hardly order Coke in here.

He would turn up he told himself. Even if he didn’t want the job he would come after the five grand. Maybe just take the money and run; he might even take the money and beat him up, to keep him quiet. Whatever happened the lure would be too great.

The hour he had planned on waiting came and went. The beer stretched to another, and on and on. The money was here, why wasn’t he turning up. Surely he wasn’t so small time he’d be happy with two hundred bucks. Time to call it a day he told himself but still he stayed.

     It was getting late when the man finally came through the door.  He came straight over. “It’s arranged,” he said. “Have you got the money?”

     “Yes.” said John hesitantly, resisting the urge to pat his inner pocket.

     “Let’s go.” said the man, “You can give it to me outside, too many eyes in here.

“Here goes nothing thought John, as he followed him out into the car park. The man walked in between two cars, and leaned against an old Ford.

     John walked up to him nervously. There was nobody else about, nobody to see a thing.

“Is he good this guy?” said John nervously.

“Just give me the money,” said the man, extending his large right hand.

John quickly withdrew the envelope and handed it over. The man took it and swiftly threw it into the back of the car without even looking at it.

“There’s a map in there of where the place is, and the date I’m away next” said John. “It’s also got the best place to break in. It’s a big horrible pink house all lit up, you can’t miss it.”

     “Lit up?” yelled the guy getting off the car, looming over him.

     “Nobody will see you,” yelled John desperately, nobody ever goes by that way. You’ll be fine, trust me.” The man seemed to calm down a little. It’ll be okay,” said John. “Your biggest problem will be standing the colour, really horrible place, burn it down if you want.” He gave a forced laugh. “It’s on the quietest street you’ve ever seen, trust me it’s fine.” John said desperately.

     “Maybe,” said the man. “I’ll drive past it. If it’s too risky you’ve lost your money.”

     “Fine,” said John, “No problem, you’ll see its fine.”   

     “Another thing.” said the man. “If this does go down my contact wants to know how you want it done.”

     “How I want it done?” asked John.

     “Fast? Slow? Whatever?” said the man calmly.

     ”Just do it,” said John quickly, not wanting to face it. “Just get it done, then get out of the place. That’s all I want.”  

     “You’ll be watched for a while after it happens,” said the man. “I’ll meet you back here the first of next month for the other five K.”

     John said nothing, but nodded.

     At this the man opened the driver’s door of the Camry.

Well he’d done all he could do. Time to wait and see what happens.