Last Orders

by R J Dent

Arlington had been in Eddie’s Bar for an hour and still couldn’t work out who his hit was.

          There were four contenders: the barman; a long-haired arty type who looked a bit like the actor Scott Glenn; a small, plump accountant type with round rimmed gold glasses; and a tall, cropped-haired, bearded man who – due to his khaki shirt – looked like a sixties political activist.

          Nursing his whisky and ginger, Arlington surveyed the rest of the patrons, wondering if he’d missed anyone significant. After a quick, but thorough sweep, he was convinced that everyone else in Eddie’s was exactly what he or she appeared to be – Thursday night drinkers and daters and company-hunters.

          His name wasn’t really Arlington, of course – that was the nomenclature given to him by Constance, his sole contact for this, his first job for his new employers.

          When he’d left his old company and put himself back on the market, the word had quickly gotten back to the biggest company in the city. Within a day he’d been contacted at home by Constance.

          The insistently ringing telephone had annoyed him, for he’d thought it was his ex-employer trying to get him to go back by offering a better pay-packet and a bit of time off in a warm country. So he’d picked it up and muttered the word that was both a question and his current name: “Watt.”

          “This is Constance from JayCee Syndicated,” a woman had said, causing Watt to drop the surliness from his voice and pay attention. JayCee Syndicated was Jerome Collini, the most elusive rich man in the country. Made all of his money from sex and drugs. Sometimes, Watt wondered whether Collini really existed, or was just a fictional front invented by a few very successful businessmen.

          “Good morning Constance,” Watt had said. “What can I do for you?”

          “JayCee Syndicated would like to know if you’re available for some free-lance work?” Constance said.