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Joe Spivey's picture
Submission type:

Joe unlocked the smaller, two drawer, filing cabinet in his study and reached inside to disarm the ‘thing’. That done, he flicked through the files until he found what he was looking for.

Opening it on his desk, Joe reached for his brandy and began to sift the sparse contents. The medical records got only the briefest of glances but enough to note that the latest, with nurse Maisy’s monthly reports attached, was over twelve months old. He made a note on his pad to get a more up to date version from the Union Medical Centre and, in brackets next to it, put an estimated cost.

After the medical records Joe took out the single sheet of notes made in his own handwriting. He read through it quickly, still surprised at just how little information it contained. At the bottom was the note he had added after listening to Silja recite Finny’s story to Kirsten long after Anneka had been put to bed after her orphanage visit. Something Finny had said, a throwaway line lost in the drama of the kid’s story of how it was she came to Flag and ended up in the orphanage.

They were fleeing an attack on their camp and Finny was describing the heavy machine gun fire from the attackers’ cars. Then she had said, “… they weren’t like the guns my dad made.” Joe read the words again. The words that had brought him back here now, days later. Then he set the sheet of notes to one side. What he was looking for was underneath and was the last item in the folder.

Joe lifted the NFPD police report and sat back in his comfortable wing-back chair with the report in one hand and his brandy in the other. His cigar already in residence in the worn and nicotine stained gap between his top and bottom teeth.

Name: Onetit Dogbreath Joe wondered what the woman must have looked like to earn such a monica.

Date of Arrest: Yeah, yeah. Joe read on down until he found the part he was looking for.

Known Associates:

(A) Gang members:

Fairy Touched



Big John Farmer



Joe smirked. He knew there had been something about Finny’s words that tugged at his memory. He tossed the NFPD report back onto the desk and took the cigar from his mouth. He stared, lost in thought, at his bookshelves and his eyes came to rest on the slightly worse for wear copy of Oliver Twist he had lent to Finny. What went on behind those intense, bloodshot brown eyes for those few seconds remained a secret of the most poker of poker faces. Then the cigar was back between his teeth. Joe took a gulp of his hand-warmed brandy and leaned forward.

Putting his now nearly empty glass down where it wouldn’t leave a ring on the polished wood of his desk top, Joe pulled the sheet of notes towards him and pulled a fancy pen from the even fancier fancy pen stand.

After Finny’s last words Joe drew an arrow and then wrote ‘Gunman’ followed by a question mark. Then he reached for his notepad. Under the note he had made about the medical record update he wrote ‘Find ‘G’’. Next to it he opened another bracket. The pen hovered for several seconds before finally writing a figure and closing the brackets. The number was not small.



Hyle Troy's picture

(( hmmm...  everything Joe does is costed..    (makes note to self to visit Omar-Mart for popcorn..) 

I would rather die peacefully in my sleep, like Grandad, than screaming, like his passengers

Joe Spivey's picture

((Of course everything Joe does is costed, that's why there's a 3 sheets rule in the bathroom... One up, one down and one to polish.

Stick with me kid and you'll be farting through silk.

Engel's picture

(( A begining of something new... Looking forward to the next chapter. )

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