I stood at the door to my favorite bar. Me being Locke of course. I also go by different names. John, Key, and others. Sometimes I just make up a name on the stop when I meet someone new.
I stood at the door because Eric, my friend who knew all about my different names, stood at the door. He was pointing out to the city at night. Rainy and barren but for a young man with a faded blue overcoat, with patches on it. As if it used to have badges sewn on before. I knew what it must be. An old Norman soldier uniform. He had blood going down his coat on one of his sleeves. The blood wasn’t flowing like he had a cut. But the rain was washing, slowing the bloodstained coat.
He had hurt someone. And now he was standing up against the bridge. Only a small ledge blocking him from falling in. It wasn’t a long fall. But the rocks underneath surely would kill him.
“He's standing where the last one was, Locke.” Eric said. “I want to get away from there, but Your better at this stuff
I was. I was best at most things. Fight though everyone seemed better then me. But tricks could fill that flaw. But back to Eric.
“We need the meeting to happen,” I said. “It can’t happen without each of us.” I brought my hand to my chin, covering my mouth as well. I always did it when I thought deeply. My father did it as well but he stroked his beard. That was a fine beard. I wonder where he is now.
“Let Tibs go. He got me away from the edge before, he can do it again.
I hated that ledge. I called it Death’s preach. Why had it right in front of our bar? Oh well. 3 out of 7 saves was better than 0 out of 7. Hopefully it can be 4 out of 8.
I went inside and told Tibs and he went out. I wondered about the norman. I was norman. Thankful normens and Ibreains are similar looking enough that I won’t get lynched.
As I sat down and the meeting started, I thought about who this soldier could be. I racked my brain trying to remember the wanted signs posted around the city. I remember about the redbrand who was killing captains on their vacations. Could that be him
Of course it could be him. Norman grunts were all Redbrands. Could he be the killer. If so, why stand so close to the edge. Is he waiting for a hit. Maybe a captain is on vacation nearby. But he would never walk out in this weather this late.
If he is the red killer as the police called him we could use him. Or more so me. The anti-war group I was spying on was against the war, and stole guns and supplies from factories. And thankfully now that I imposnatied Key they never attack my factories.
If I can get this killer and his skills, his military skills. I could have him train my volunteers. Right now they're mostly self trained. Having a military man would help. Plus he could join the anti war group and attack my companaters.
Hopefully Tibbs could get him inside.
The meeting went well. Eric who posed as a fencer would help sell our weapons we stole from my competitors and sell it though a couple fake groups and groups, which would then funnel it back to me. Which then I would sell them. It was a nice profit.
Bang. or more like boom. Then a flash of light and some yelling. The whole group fled to the back of the bar. Trying to squeeze into the small back room. But not me.
I waited and when no more shots were shot I left and walked outside. The young man lay down on the groud bleeding out. And Tibs being cradled by a police man. What happened? That all I could think about. There was at least half a dozen police and one detective that I knew to well. The detective was studying the body.
I should have gone. I lost a great chance.