Reclining I didn't know we're to go, or what to do after that really. So I retreated to my usual place, got about a pint of whiskey and a cigar and just sat, resting my head against the wall for what seemed like hours. Hoping for some inspiration about what to do next. Needless to say, nothing came to me.

Red Tide Before my stomach conveniently decided to be sick on the rear bumper of the car, all I really had time to glimpse was her face. It looked as neutral and silent as it had a few hours earlier. Her face, yes, and the blood. Forcing some composure, I chansed another glance. The sight was appalling. Her light gown had been forced up to her waist, and her legs lay bared, unnaturally twisted, smeared with blood. Several stab-wounds and a few slashes was visible on her torso. The mess of blood and fabric, gave no hint what so ever to what beauty and frailty she had so recently represented. Despite the it all - rain, blood, dead dame, and the taste of vomit - I somehow registered that she was still wearing my jacket - drenched in blood. This was not, how should I say, an ideal situation. Not at all. Fighting of panic as best I could, I swung around and rushed into the diner, with the intention of opening the man with the briefcase's skull on the counter. The waitress's dropped a pot of joe on the floor as I barged through the door like a madman. He was not there. The few customers still lingering at this late hour glared as I ran for the restroom. Not there either. The man was gone. Ignoring the waitress's agitated inquiry's I headed back out to the parking lot. I curse this day. Nothing was going for me. How could I forget to close the lid? She practically radiated from there, and the officer had hardly needed to illuminate her with his flashlight to see what this was about. Damn those ignorant, thick headed coppers! Never around for weeks on end. Then, now, at the worst possible moment they crawl out of nowhere. Thinking that a confrontation with a policeman, and possible interrogation back at the station was not what I longed for just now. I reared around, and made off in the opposite direction.

In The Rain The rain washed away my resolution, and made me sober up a bit. I don't know which had the most discouraging affect on me. But as I approached the only car parked behind the diner, I was having second thoughts about this. The tip was far from solid. And even if it proved to be - what was I to do with the god damn stuff if it actually lay there, in the trunk for me to shift? I rarely plan that, or even this far ahead. And for a brief moment I was about to contemplate all the times that had backfired on me. I decided that now, if ever, was not the time nor the place for such meditation. A few quick paces and my hand rested on the latch for the trunk. The wicked thing wasn't even locked! I had a feeling this was about to turn sour, and the thought crossed my mind to just walk away. I opened the trunk.

One of Those Nights It had been one of these nights again. Nothing seemed to fall into place. Nothing made any sense. This stakeout was wearing me thin. I was contemplating switching from whiskey to joe, when the guy with the briefcase stepped in to the diner. At the counter he landed his briefcase with a hard-to-ignore clang. And sure enough. I gave him a good long, hard stare. He took no notice of me, even thou I might have been drawing the attention of every other customer. I was far from sure this was My guy, but I had no intention of letting this opportunity pass me by. I Listend to the waitress taking his order before I rose, walked passed him, and throu the doors, into the pouring rain.