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Only A Cop Would Walk Down A Dark Street Whistling

Page 4

I pointed him out to Franc. What about him? But as I said Franc was holding out. Maybe this was the pay-off, like any 'great', he was holding it back until to the very end, until the reader really wanted it, was begging for it. He finally had me going. Is it because he's always asking for a ride? I winked Franc, trying to indicate a hit, but Franc wasn't having any. He'd gone vague, deep in the throes of his creative vision, no doubt.

I had time to mill about the bar and nod Dinks' way before Franc looked ready to crack. I just wanted Dinks to know he was next in line. I nodded Sweet Jane as well, just to let her know I knew. I left Three-Pot and Lady Friday pretty much alone. It looked to me like they'd already been dealt too much. And it wasn't until a couple of beers later, at the two-and-a-quarter hour mark that Franc waved me over. I'd bought him a couple for his trouble and he looked in need. He was a two-pot-an-hour man, once he got going, and now I had some bargaining power. Dinks, I began, pointing my forehead across the bar, holding that pot. Oh Dinks, Franc smiled, because he's always asking for one. Get it? Do you get it? No, I didn't. It wasn't exactly the pay-off I'd expected. Which gave me the idea. I worded Franc, left him a tenner just to seal the deal. Two and a half hours. It's all she deserved. Jean-Paul Gaultier would have been proud, I even whistled on the way out, for Three Pots with a little Sweet Jane and a Dink at the end was Francly a pretty good Friday night, even if the pay off and the Lady didn't show...

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