3.07 Up for it

As soon as the two Customs officials had gone, I hurried out the door myself, taking the fire escape, a rusting spiral of steel that creaked and moaned with each step. Passing through a dark passage overcrowded with discarded bicycles, I came out on to the main street. With a quick glance left and right, I stepped out onto the street and made my way towards a 7-11 a few blocks away and called Azami from a public phone.

When she answered, I apologized for having lost my temper earlier and asked her to meet me at a café near my apartment.

Hanging up the phone, I then took a roundabout route to the café, which I was relieved to discover to find empty except for two young women having coffee and cake.

I took a seat in the back corner. It was partially hidden behind a pillar but offered me a view of the entrance. After a few minutes, a waitress came to my table to take my order: a shot of Zacapa and a beer chaser. It only five in the afternoon and I had to return to work in an hour's time, but I needed to steady my nerves before Azami arrived. There were so many things that I needed my girlfriend to do, but after all I’d put the poor girl through, I wondered if she’d be up for it.

*

About half an hour later, Azami came. She laid into me as soon as she sat down, "What the hell’s going on?"

"Um . . . You remember that package Naila was sending me?"

"Y-e-s?"

"Well, apparently her medicine was it."

"What medicine?"

"Adderall."

"Addo . . .?”

“Adderall. She was taking it for her attention deficit disorder. It’s a kind of ampheta . . .“

“Why did you . . .?"

"Hold on, Azami! I didn't know she was sending me a package until she mailed me, even then I didn't know what was in it . . . "

"But you said . . . "

"Never mind what I said. The fact of the matter is I didn't ask her to send anything to me."

"Oh, Rémy, I just knew something like this would eventually happen."

"Look, we can have that conversation later," I said taking my girlfriend’ hands. "Right now, I need you to do something."

She recoiled. "W-what?"

"I need you to contact Jean."

"Why?"

The two of them weren't exactly kindred spirits.

"One, I need to know the extent of the investigation. And, two, if the shoe were on the other foot and Jean was being investigated, I'd want to know. He needs to be very careful. Just this one favor and then you can do whatever you like. Okay?"

I wouldn't have blamed Azami if she had said “Sayônara” right then and there, but my girlfriend gave a hesitant nod. I knew what she was thinking, though: Rémy’s chickens had come home to roost.

"Call Jean from a public phone. You have his number right?"

She nodded.

"And it's probably not a good idea to go directly to his place. The cops might be keeping their eye on him." I looked around the café. A couple in their early thirties that had come in after Azami was now studying a menu. "They could still be watching me right now. If possible, try to meet Jean at, say, a café in his neighborhood. Cafe Teco is just around the corner from his place. It should still be open. Tell him what I've told you. Tell him, that I'm going in for questioning on Sunday. I have no idea what the police know or how long they've been watching me. Ask him if he's noticed anything odd going on around him. Got that? And tell him he's got to be careful. He’ll understand. Okay?"

Azami nodded again. What little color she’d had in her face was now gone. Standing up and straightening her dress, she left without saying a word.

I had to get back to work in a few minutes. I finished my beer, paid the bill, and left.

© Aonghas Crowe, 2010. All rights reserved. No unauthorized duplication of any kind.

注意：この作品はフィクションです。登場人物、団体等、実在のモノとは一切関係ありません。

All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

The complete version of No. 6 is now available for a variety of devices at Amazon's Kindle store.