A HA! The Eyes Have It

The Eyes Have It

The clock tower struck midnight across the empty square, John Samuels hid in the shadows with an upturned collar. The thick fog crept into every crack in his jacket sending a shiver down his spine. He stayed still slowly taking a drag from a cigarette masked by a gloved hand. He was waiting for something, for somebody.
It was three weeks ago that she walked into his office. A hot August day, the city was humming with the sound of thousands of fans pushing hot air around. She was slight, brown hair and eyes as big as a doe. She was wearing a thick green velvet coat when she stumbled into his office. Before he could offer her a cool glass of something she had fainted on his couch. He waited patently for her to regain her fortitude, shifting through her ragged purse out of courtesy. It wasn’t long before she was awake again. He gestured to a cool glass of water sweating on the table in front of her. “Better drink up before you go out again”, she took to the water like dry flounder. “What’s the idea walking around in something like that on a day like this, got something to hide?” She held back a great heave of a sob and subsided into weepy hiccups. “Get a hold on your self and let slip your motive little lady.” She gave him a scornful look, his hostility galvanizing her resolve. “Now look here mister I don’t care who you are, don’t you go talkin’ ladies that way.”
“Oh so now you’re a lady eh?” He pulled a gun from his desk drawer and trained the long barrel at her chest, “Go ahead reach it’s not there”, she had made a frantic grab for her purse. “I an’t never known a lady to carry a piece like this.” With his other hand he tossed the only contents of her purse across his desk, a dark revolver clattered to a rest amongst the stacks of papers. “Who sent you? Go on spit it out. What happened you owe big Lou, he send you here to pay back your debt. Come on out with it.” She broke down crying on his sofa, shaking from the gun trained at her. “No—Nobody, sent me—I, I” she let out a wail and flopped over on to the leather sofa. “John Samuels what in the name of the good lord are you doing pointing a gun at this poor girl for.” His secretary was back from her lunch and had burst in at the sound of sobbing. “Go on tell her, tell her who sent you.” He lowered the gun and slowly let in the hammer. “Mrs. Please stop crying, he’s this terrible to all the women he meets.” She gave him a scornful look and offered the wilted creature a kerchief. John settled back in his chair and lit another cigarette sliding his colt back into its worn leather holster. “Yeah well she had it coming, see what she had in that purse.” He waived a hand at the gun on the desk, only crooks carry a piece that big, and what about that coat on a day like this. She’s got something to hide and dammed if I’m gonna let it fester and blow up in my mug.” The heat was getting to his head, he stood and walked to the window in search of a cool breeze. “John, come take a look at this.” He turned on his heel while taking a long drag, “What now?”
Her clothes were drenched in blood, even the dark green velvet was wet with it. “Good lord, is it hers?” John threw his cigarette out the window and rushed over to the sofa, “Lady this is the sort of thing you lead off with.” “Oh so I’m a lady now?” She croaked through another onset of the hiccups. Her big eyes fixed on his face, blood shot with tears welled up waiting to flow like a Buick on fresh asphalt. “Alright tell me the story from the beginning, don’t leave nothing out, see?” He motioned to a pad of paper on the desk, “make yourself useful and take some notes why don’t you. Alright from the top.”
It was those eyes, that’s what made him do it, that’s why he was halfway around the world waiting in a doorway for some Joe, Damn eyes.