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THE NEW BOY "OK new boy, the Boss needs this brought over to him and he asked for you specially," he smiled as he handed over a fat padded envelope sealed round and round with clear tape. Perhaps it was the scar, but the smile came across as a wicked grin. "Don't let us down and don't even think about looking inside." "Yes Sir, you can rely on me," the new boy replied in a suitably respectful voice. But inside he was thinking you won't be calling me boy for long. What's more, that scar doesn't scare me one little bit, it's nothing but the mark of a loser. Scarface smiled again, "Do you have a weapon? By the way, the Boss must like you for he said he won't start dinner until you arrive." "Oh yes, I have a weapon and the Boss does me a very great honour." He carried the envelope to his car like a trophy and proudly laid it on the front passenger seat. More discretely he slipped his handgun beside it then covered both with his coat. If only his friends could see him now. But he and his envelope were being watched and not by his friends. "Good things come to them that wait," said one of the shadowy figures on the motorcycle, "but don't get too close, not yet." But they did get close. * * * "There's fresh blood everywhere, don't touch it without gloves you might catch something," the older detective warned the young officer. It wasn't too difficult for them to work out the sequence of events that had unfolded at the traffic lights. It should have been a quick clean robbery but the target had a gun and he had put up a fight. "OK let's see what these fine citizens chose to die for," he said indicating that the young officer should open the blooded envelope. With curious colleagues gathering round, the young officer could sense the drama of the occasion. More slowly than was necessary, he opened the envelope and drew out a small plain cardboard box. Looking inside he announced, "Looks like someone important is still waiting for dinner." Of course they asked how he could tell. At first he claimed it was just something a really good detective would be able to get through intuition. Then he let them see that the box was home to an expensive looking set of dentures. end
The New Boy was published in the PDF and print editions Gold Dust, Issue Eight Autumn 2006 ISSN 1751-8180.
THE NEW BOY "OK new boy, the Boss needs this brought over to him and he asked for you specially," he smiled as he handed over a fat padded envelope sealed round and round with clear tape. Perhaps it was the scar, but the smile came across as a wicked grin. "Don't let us down and don't even think about looking inside." "Yes Sir, you can rely on me," the new boy replied in a suitably respectful voice. But inside he was thinking you won't be calling me boy for long. What's more, that scar doesn't scare me one little bit, it's nothing but the mark of a loser. Scarface smiled again, "Do you have a weapon? By the way, the Boss must like you for he said he won't start dinner until you arrive." "Oh yes, I have a weapon and the Boss does me a very great honour." He carried the envelope to his car like a trophy and proudly laid it on the front passenger seat. More discretely he slipped his handgun beside it then covered both with his coat. If only his friends could see him now. But he and his envelope were being watched and not by his friends. "Good things come to them that wait," said one of the shadowy figures on the motorcycle, "but don't get too close, not yet." But they did get close. * * * "There's fresh blood everywhere, don't touch it without gloves you might catch something," the older detective warned the young officer. It wasn't too difficult for them to work out the sequence of events that had unfolded at the traffic lights. It should have been a quick clean robbery but the target had a gun and he had put up a fight. "OK let's see what these fine citizens chose to die for," he said indicating that the young officer should open the blooded envelope. With curious colleagues gathering round, the young officer could sense the drama of the occasion. More slowly than was necessary, he opened the envelope and drew out a small plain cardboard box. Looking inside he announced, "Looks like someone important is still waiting for dinner." Of course they asked how he could tell. At first he claimed it was just something a really good detective would be able to get through intuition. Then he let them see that the box was home to an expensive looking set of dentures. end The New Boy was published in the PDF and print editions Gold Dust, Issue Eight, Autumn 2006,  ISSN 1751-8180.
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