As the cab peeled away from the curb, leaving a smiling Bob Anderson to pursue Dr Janowski, the fog began clearing from the drivers mind. It wasn’t until he was approaching the rotting inner city that he regained full cognition. Shaking his head, he rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand while he drank in the familiar sights of the city. Trash strewn sidewalks, boarded over shopfronts and in the distance, a siren wailed as though the city itself was crying out in pain.
Anyone else would question losing half a day, but for Jimmy, his booze soaked nights were the only remedy for bored days, so he was able to explain it away as just another blackout.
The sun had long since fallen between the tall buildings, casting shadows down angry gridlocked streets. Now it was night, now it was the time for degenerates, criminals and vice. Good people locked themselves inside and gave over the streets to the those with less than honourable intentions.
Jimmy pulled his groaning cab into the parking lot of diner located next to a construction site, long since abandoned. Even though he was a regular, Jimmy didn’t make small talk with the server that slopped stale black coffee into the mug in front of him as he slumped down into the tattered vinyl booth.
As she waddled back behind the greasy counter, he fumbled in his coat jacket and pulled out an old cardboard drink coaster. Unfolding it, he ran his fingers over the marks made from someone pushing too hard with a pen on the soft cardboard.
“What does it mean?”
The words jolted through him like electricity, shooting him upright as he realised someone was suddenly seated across from him in the booth. Jimmy took the man in for a moment, noticing his impeccably dressed presentation and calm demeanour before stammering, “what, who… how?”.
He reminded Jimmy of an English duke or one of those posh businessmen from uptown that he would get in his cab. The man was out of place in this dive of a diner.
“What, who and how I am is of little importance to you I’m sure, compared to what you’ve go in your hands” the man replied in a clipped english accent.
Jimmy looked around the near empty diner, gripping the folded coaster in his hand even tighter.
“So do you know?” the Englishman asked again?
Jimmy crumpled his thick brow, looking from the man to the coaster clenched in his fist on the table.
“Because, if you haven’t worked it out, I know someone who can help you”
With that the Englishman stood up and walked out of the diner. Jimmy patted his pockets, retrieved a crumpled single and dropped it on the counter as he followed the man into the foul night air outside.
The Englishman was already sitting in the back of Jimmy’s cab so he lumbered into the drivers seat and creaked the door closed. The engine sputtered painfully into life as Jimmy twisted around to face the man in the back.
“You gonna tell me what you mean, and how you know about this thing I got?” Jimmy asked.
“24th and Kensington” He replied. “You’ll get answers there”.
Jimmy gripped the wheel with one hand and the coaster in his coat pocket with the other. He had to find out who left this note. His whole life depended on it he thought as the old cab passed block after block, seeping deeper into the heart of the crowded city.
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