'I don't like Rod... I don't trust him. I think he is shook. I am worried he is going to leak it all! I need you to keep an eye on this Butch!'
Without uttering a single word Butch nodded his ugly head, and went straight to work.
He phoned Jim sometime in the evening with this:
'Relax yourself Mr boss-man Jim! I have been following him all day. He's been drinking his sorrows inside the Short Tailed Fox! He's not going anywhere!'
Jim asked Butch if he had seen Rod communicate with anybody at all.
Butch responded:
'Not one soul. He's been a loner all day. No one has approached him, and he has approached no one. I think it is safe to presume that he is not going to cause us any trouble. But I can keep watching him if you like?'
'Yes Butch. Track him all night! Don't let your eyes off him. The moment we let that man out of our sight things might fall apart. We can't let him cause trouble. We are too close to victory right now. I can't let him sabotage the deal just because he has a conscience and wants to play the nice guy. There is no more manoeuvrability for such nonsense, not anymore. We have taken the plunge into the well and rope leading the way back up has been cut away by the knife of fate. At the bottom of the well we have to find the gold, or don't eat . It's the only way. Now I think Rod is a good man, but I Know he is a coward, and rash. I am genuinely concerned that he might sell us out!'
'If I suspect anything what would you like me to do? Do you want me to call you, or would you prefer I just walk the man to the Swamp.'
'NO! Phone me first. I want to assess the situation. Rod is a resource that we cannot afford to throw away. I would rather beat him up first. Or get him to sign over the deeds of his property. If we managed to do that then by all means dump him in the err... Swamp. But right now let's keep our cool and behave like human beings. So keep tracking him. Watch his every move and listen in on every conversation he has if he makes contact with somebody. Keep me up to date! But DON'T kill him.'
Butch heard this on his side of the phone and replied: 'You're the boss, Jim. Just give me a whistle if you need me to rope the man in.'
Jim told Butch to never allow any of his eyes to leave Rod. Butch responded:
'Well, if I think Rod is taking a wrong turn I don't have to kill him... I could just break his fingers...'
'NO physical damage not unless I order it,' Jim replied.
And then Jim turned off the phone.
Butch knew the score. By now Butch was a trained dog with the eyes of a hawk; he would never take action on his prey not unless Jim willed it.
Jim had every confidence in his dog, but he absolutely did not trust Rod not in the least. He thought the man was a bomb ready to go off. Now Jim knew himself to be no murderer, but he also knew that he was absolutely willing to kill Rod if he felt that there was the need to do it.
At that moment in his life Jim had the souls of two very different people living inside of him. He could feel both of their hearts - their beats vibrated in two different directions:
The one heart said:
THIS is all GOOD! We are going to be rich! That heart was very excited, and beat very happily inside his chest.
The second heart however was quivering with fear. It felt like there was a thunderstorm going inside ghat heart because it beat so fast and so fierce! It felt like it was about to rip out of his chest. That heart didn't have a voice, it did not tell him what he should and should not do, it just made him feel very scared, and with that also came confusion.
He hated the second heart. He wanted to rip it out. But unfortunately that heart was the largest, and beat the hardest. He wanted to listen to it, go along with it even, and that was when the confusion started.
The first heart relaxed him from time to time, it pulled him back into the calm, soothed him even with gentle vibrations that made every atom of his body tingle sending back to his brain imagery of money...numbers in the bank... paper in the hand...drinks...good food...the warmth of comfortable hotel rooms...good company...six figures...many noughts in the bank...and finally money!
Jim felt the need to do two things at that moment:
1. Calm his nerves.
2. And celebrate!
And so he decided that was exactly what he was going to do.
It was time to drown out the beatings of his second heart with a glass or two of the old devil, and share stories of his victories with willing ears.
And Jim found such ears eventually hanging off the side of Mr Ted Bobbleworth's large nobly head.
Ted and Jim had not been the best of friends, and Ted had still not forgiven Jim for duping him out the animal-masks Jim used to infiltrate the Rits a few weeks ago. But the two men were now peers and fellow businessmen, and when Ted found out that the newcomer to town was in bed with Mr Tony King he decided he wanted to get know Jim a little better:
'After all,' he said, when he and Jim met in the streets later that day, 'I think bottles of G-Juice would look very lovely on my shelves. Certainly if I could buy them for the right price!'
'Let's talk!' said Jim, and Ted invited him into his shop!
So there was Jim and Ted, sat in that rustic old shop. Ted loved the place and was very proud, and Jim could see this, the twinkle in the other mans eye, but personally he found the place boring. He could see the dust. And he could see the cobwebs as well.
But he could also see the potential for business...
There were indeed plenty of empty shelves ripe for loading with the G-Juice brand.
O yes! Business could been done in such a place indeed!
So it was time for Jim to get drunk and make friends with an old enemy!
'Let's talk pounds and paper!' said Jim, raising his first glass of whiskey.
The night had begun and the drinking had even begun, and Jim was already drunk on his ambition for his product.
'We are going to make Fenwick the production centre for the most beloved alcoholic beverage in the country!' he said.
'With Tony's money at your back you are going to b e a very rich man,' said Ted.
'I know! I feel like I am going to explode, in the metaphorical sense, of course,' Jim replied. 'I can't believe I am saying this but things are going SO well for me right now. I could not have asked for a bigger break, and it was all brought about by my efforts alone. Of course there is Butch, but he is just a dog, and Rod, he is just an investor that's all. It was MY idea. I build this business. I got the contract signed with Tony. Now nothing short of a disaster can stop me!'
'Don't tempt fate,' said Ted. 'There is always time for things to go wrong!'
'Maybe you are right,' Jim replied. Then Jim pulled a card out of his shirt pocket and showed it to Ted. 'I found this:' it had a series of numbers written on it. 'Do you know what this is? It's the phone number to the Castle. I found it in the trash. Rod must have put it there. You know Rod used to work in the Castle before he got invested in the business. He must have put the number to the trash thinking that he didn't need it anymore.'
'That number is better left in the bin,' said Ted. Ted then recommended Jim throw the paper away and forget about it.
But when Jim herd this he just laughed.
He was very drunk at that point in their conversation.
'I am going to phone them! And then I am going to challenge them! I am the king of this city now!'
Ted could not believe what he was listening to. You could see the shock in his face!
'Please don't do that!' said Ted. 'Let me give you this comparison. Let's say that you live in Mexico, would you go and poke fun and wind up the cartel? NO. So in Fenwick you don't poke fun or wind up the people living in The Castle. It's the golden rule we all live by. Maybe because you are new here you don't realise the power of the Castle. I get that. But you know about their power now. Don't prod them. They don't care about you. They don't give second chances, and they won't take your ignorance into consideration. Outsider or not, they will put you in The Swamp.'
Jim finished his whiskey and putting down his glass he held out his hand and asked Ted to hand him the phone.
'I won't do it,' Ted replied.
Jim asked for the phone again, more sternly this time. When Ted did not responded Jim demanded the phone to be put in his hand.
Jim was very drunk, as we know, but he was also very serious.
Ted, who was starting to sweat at that stage, was frightened the drunken man might physically attack him. 'It's your skin at the end of the day,' said Ted, and he finally handed Jim the phone.
Smiling, Jim punched the numbers in. The phone rung thrice, three times yes, and then the gates into the castle opened...
(Remember! All spelling errors and grammatical mistakes are intentional - the author 😆)
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