It’s midnight. I watch from my car to the other side of the
street a man walking in the rain. I glance to the picture that my client gave
me and see that it's him. He didn’t say why he wanted me to follow him, just
told me to follow him. Throughout the night, until he returned home. I lit a
cigarette and started the engine, moving slowly and letting him take advantage
not to notice of my presence. I parked as I turned down a narrow street where
it’d be difficult to follow him without he realize it, and without losing him I
continued following him on foot. Two minutes later he entered a bar which neon
sign said The Last Night Dive. I had
never been there despite my free nights when I usually end up in this kind of
cold and sordid dens. I waited outside for a moment and then I got in. He was
sitting at a table in the back, absorbed in his whiskey glass in the darkness. He
didn’t even look up when I entered. I sat at the bar and ordered a whiskey with
ice. I lit a cigarette and waited.
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