It hadn’t taken the genius in me to realise quickly that I was being followed. It certainly helped that my voyeur had forever been as subtle as a double barrelled shotgun. It would play to my best interests to continue to appear oblivious.
I purposefully slowed my pace; my ears pricked up as I heard a scuff behind me. Sighing, I knew I had to confront my stalker. Being smart had usually allowed me to get ten steps even further ahead. The crumbling alleyways I’d found myself wandering through had convenient cubbyholes and gaps I could conceal myself in. If I needed to cause a scene, this would appear to be the perfect setting.
I stopped, turning around to find a flash of gold, only for it to quickly disappear. With a smile, I backed myself quietly down a narrow alley between a disused post office and a deli. What had happened here? Why had this place become a decaying ghost town? That was a question I needed to ask myself after this little ambush.
The walls were close enough for me to find purchase and push myself up in between the establishments. If he was hiding, so could I – two could play at this game.
It didn’t take long before curiosity got the better of him. Thankfully, the afternoon’s rays had sunken low enough to not cast a shadow over me and blow my cover. I smiled as, so predictably, he’d fallen into my trap.
Looking down with a smile due to his confusion, I dropped, striking a fist right into his stunned face.
‘You always have to learn the hard way, don’t you Larson?’ I teased whilst he groaned, yanking him to his feet, only to push him against the graffiti covered wall and press my pistol firmly into his neck.
‘Now, that was uncalled for-’ he drawled with a frown, knowing better than to move a millimetre.
‘Was it? Or is it uncalled for that you’ve been trailing me, albeit poorly, since I arrived in Monaco? Really Larson, after all these years I’d hoped your so-called tactics had improved. You know how much I like a challenge. It’s a shame you make it so easy for me.’
I rifled through his pockets hoping to find anything of use. No such luck – unless a bubblegum wrapper could be used as a bargaining tool in the near future. I doubted it. His pockets were as empty as his skull.
‘Tell you what, let me know and I’ll show you all the improvements you want.’ He smirked, causing me to knock it clean off his face.
‘You should really work on your backchat, Conway. It’s another thing that appears to have gotten worse.’
I struck him again with a closed fist, his six-foot-two frame falling to the tanned cobbles in an instant. I tucked his revolver into the back of my shorts and dragged him over to a nearby dumpster – I couldn’t resist. It was the only way I could clear him off my scent without a manhunt or too much bloodshed.
‘In you go,’ I said to myself with a grunt as I hauled his heavy frame into the rotten container, grimacing at the stench.
I slammed the lid down, pulling the pipe over the black plastic lid to ensure Larson stayed put for a little while longer. Time for a little ride.
The bin rattled loudly as I pushed the rubbish and Larson over the rocky paving; I didn’t know where I was going with this but I trusted my sense of adventure. Exiting the passageway, I smiled as the view ahead was downhill and without a stopping point in sight. I’m sure the metal would protect him.
‘Hey!’ he banged on the sides of the container. ‘Hey, let me out, Croft! It stinks in here!’
‘Awake are we?’
‘Let me out or I swear to god, I’ll shoot my way out of here!’
‘You’ll have a job.’ I scoffed. ‘I’ve got your revolver.’
‘Croft, I swear to God-’
‘Oh do you ever shut up?’ I rolled my eyes. He continued to spit vulgarities at me, however I ignored them as I began to run as fast as I could with the dumpster. ‘Brace yourself.’ I warned as I let the metal handles go, watching the battered red bin roll down the hill, hearing a scream fade into the distance.
‘He’ll be alright.’