Friday, March 30


The Thompson Project has exploded again. I don't know where to go or what to do. But the clock keeps ticking, and it's only a matter of time before things start to burn.

I head into town, find a nice quiet joint called Henny's. It's a nice place to lie low and think things through. There aren't many shadows in that clean, white café. Besides, the serving girls there always have a nice smile for me.

Henny's doesn't sell whiskey though. I make do with a coffee, and tell myself that if it was the kind of place that sold whiskey to guys like me, it wouldn't be the kind of nice quiet joint where I could think. Doubtless the watiresses wouldn't smile so easily either.

I write out a note for K. I tell her to leave a message for me here, tell her not to come back to the office. I don't like to think that she crossed me deliberatley yesterday. It woudn't be the first time a pair of glittering eyes had deceived me, but K didn't fit the pattern. I warn her that Thompson might be onto her.

All I can do is leave the note with the nervous barman at The Bridge. I almost feel bad for not folding the thing into some work of art. I seal the envelope and leave the barman with some instructions and some extra paper notes. God knows whether K will ever see the message, but I have to try.

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