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Chapter 11: Saturday Evening
Higgs
didn’t know how the stranger always found him, but he did so reliably. He had
hung the red flag in his window and proceeded to go about his day. He had
planned to pay Kostas a visit and move some of his share of the stash to
another location. Both of those would need to wait until after he’d met with
the stranger. He didn’t want to risk being followed to either location. The day
was dragging on, and yet the stranger had not yet shown up. The sun was now
going down, and the day was dwindling.
Higgs
strolled through an artists’ neighborhood, glancing in shop windows. It had
been a while since he could truly enjoy art. The tension of his chosen
profession had made it difficult to relax and enjoy the finer points of life.
He resolved that once this whole thing blew over, he’d try to take more time
for this sort of thing. He could see himself as an art collector. He didn’t
care much for the classic masters, but he liked what the current artists were
making. It was a throwback to the styles of the 19th century, but
with contemporary subjects. He didn’t see himself being a collector of 20th
century modern art like so many of the city’s wealthy, who hid the illicit
works behind false bookcases and back corners of their homes.
The
afternoon’s storm had left the city drenched and the streets clear. Higgs wore
a thick trench coat as he hurried from awning to awning looking at the art
through the windows of shuttered studios. He felt a tap on his shoulder and
turned to look. As he did so, he saw the stranger glide past and into the
alley-facing doorway of a low-income apartment building. Higgs followed him to
the stoop.
“I gather
from the news that everything went as planned.” The stranger began the
conversation, his voice muffled behind his customary pollution filter.
“As good
as could be expected.” Higgs replied. “A few hitches, but nothing to bore you
with.”
“Good. And
the book? You were able to obtain that I hope.”
Higgs
pulled the heavy book out from the small shoulder bag he had under his coat. He
handed it to the stranger. “As promised.”
The
stranger took the book greedily. He held it almost reverently. He opened the
front cover, and then quickly shut it, as if afraid to look at the contents in
this place. He was strangely silent as he ran a gloved hand over the rough
cover, weathered and beaten from the previous day’s activities and years of
neglect. The red leather cover was faded into a dull brown. A gash ran across
the front cover from being tossed around during the heist. He tucked it inside
his cape and blinked. Higgs thought he could see tears welling in the corners
of the stranger’s eyes. When he finally spoke, his voice was at the edge of
cracking.
“Thank
you,” was all he said.
“I did not
look at the contents of the book.” Higgs said quietly to the emotional
stranger. “I wanted to respect our agreement that no questions be asked.”
The
stranger nodded. Higgs could see the appreciation in his eyes. He cleared his
throat and took a deep breath. “I believe this completes our agreement.
Godspeed, Thurmond Higgs.”
“The
same.” Higgs replied curtly. He turned and walked from the alley. He headed
immediately for Kostas’s apartment. He took a roundabout way to get there, just
in case he was followed. He wondered how long he would need to constantly watch
his back; probably as long as he stayed in the city.
When he was
certain that he was not being tailed, he headed into the building, making a
beeline for the stairwell. He ran up the stairs to the fourth story and took
the manual elevator to the floor where Kostas lived. He had told himself he
would never come back to this place after the first visit. Yet, here he was. He
knocked on the door and waited a minute for Kostas to answer.
“Who is?”
the muffled voice came from the other side of the door.
“Kostas,
it’s Higgs.”
Kostas
opened the door and pulled Higgs in brusquely. He closed the door and locked
the multiple locks installed in a mess around the door. The burglar walked away
from the door and into the center of the apartment. The apartment was more dim
than before. Most of the oil lamps were extinguished, except for a single lamp
in the center of the apartment. Shadows stretched around the walls and ceiling.
“Why are
you here, Higgs?” Kostas asked, pacing a small circle in the floor.
“I needed
to talk to you.”
“You
should not have come here. If police follow you, they now see me.”
“Don’t
worry. I’ve been at this a long time, and I know when I’m being followed. I’m
clean.”
“Ok, what?
Hurry, Higgs.”
Kostas was
clearly on edge. Higgs hadn’t seen this side of him before today. He seemed to
take everything in stride before. It was as if the heist had lit some kind of
fire inside him and set him into a spin of restlessness.
“Ok,
Kostas, I’ll be quick. I need to know if there’s a way to protect a lock from
being picked. I want to be able to lock up my stash without anybody being able
to get at it. You’re the best lock pick. Is there a way to prevent you from
opening a lock?”
“No. No
such thing as a lock I can’t open. Maybe a double-sided key. Still, I am too
good for that. If I cannot unlock, I can explode, no? No lock is safe.”
“That’s
what I was afraid of. Ok. One more thing. Do you have any kind of small
explosive I can keep in my pocket? You never know when it might come in handy.”
Kostas
nodded quickly before disappearing into the middle of some kind of pile of
rubble. He emerged again with a small bottle. The bottle had a cap on each end,
with a glass divider in the center. There was a yellow liquid in one side and a
red in the other.
“Break
bottle. It goes boom.” Kostas said, without his customary good-natured laugh.
Higgs took
the bottle from Kostas and thanked him. Just then, they heard noises from
below, and a bright light could be seen shining through the thick curtains
hanging in front of the plate glass windows. Then they heard a sound
unmistakable to anyone who lived in the city for more than a few months.
It was a
steam-powered siren that blared a three pitched tune. It was the signal that a
raid was about to happen. These came from time to time on the old buildings.
Most times, nobody cared who was living in the abandoned skyscrapers. But
occasionally, there would be a tip that some Technologists were camped in a
‘scraper. The police would surround the building in their usual conspicuous
fashion and storm the building. The sirens were a signal for any innocent residents
to evacuate and show their papers before the raid began.
Kostas’s
eyes got big. He ran a hand through his greasy long hair. “They are here. They
have come for me.”
“Nonsense.
It’s a standard raid, Kostas. Nobody knows you were involved.”
“You go if
you want. I must go my own way.”
Higgs put
a hand on Kostas’s shoulder. “Good luck, my friend.”
“Kali
tihi, Higgs.”
Higgs
hurried out of the apartment and found the elevator had moved to a different
floor. It was currently in use; the calling rope was feeding past quickly as
residents evacuated the building. Higgs ran to the stairwell next to the
elevator and began to hurry down the 39 flights of stairs to the ground level.
He emerged into the lobby, exhausted and breathing heavily. He joined a small
group of disheveled people as they filed out of the building. Some were
clutching bags or pillowcases containing all their worldly possessions.
Many of
them would never return to this building. Once a building was raided, it had a
stigma. Nobody but the true misfits would live in a raided building. The poor
and downtrodden would find another abandoned place to call home until the next
raid. Higgs followed the others as they walked through a police checkpoint.
When he
got to the checkpoint, he pulled out papers to show the officer. The officer
looked them over, then looked at Higgs with a puzzled look. He was wearing
clothes without holes, and he smelled of a recent bath. He clearly didn’t fit
in. His heart was beating faster. Would he get stopped? Would he be taken in
for questioning?
“Floyd
Ellison, age 43.” He read out loud. The officer next to him wrote the name down
below the previous name in his book. He took another book and flipped through
the pages to the E section. Running down the page, he found the name he was
looking for.
“Checks
out… Mr— sorry Reverend Ellison is a minister.”
The
officer holding his papers looked at Higgs skeptically. “What were you doing
here, Rev. Ellison?”
Higgs
looked at the officer with a sincere look of concern on his face. “Even the
downtrodden need a shepherd, perhaps more than most.”
“Aren’t
you supposed to wear some kind of collar or robe or something?”
Higgs
shook his head, “I am here on my own time. The church does not officially
sanction these visits.”
The
officer shook his head. “You should be careful, there are dangerous men in this
building.”
Higgs
nodded solemnly, “I am not afraid of men.”
He took
his papers from the officer and kept walking. A man behind the police lines
caught his eye. He was dressed in a dark trench coat and dark hat. He stood
with hands in pockets watching the people file out of the building. He didn’t
look like a cop. He looked at Higgs and for a second their eyes met. Higgs
tipped his hat.
Just then
an explosion rang out from behind. Higgs spun on his heels to look at the
building. The entire 39th story was engulfed in flames. Tiny bits of
glass rained down on the crowd from above, thrown from the building by the
force of the explosion. He looked for the man in the dark coat, but he was gone.
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