Jim was back on the train.
And there was Mr Grey waiting for him and he was very pleased with Jim’s work.
‘Excellent job. You have done well dealing with Butch,’ said Mr Grey. ‘I am glad you are with us, Jim. You carry the mark and now you have carried out the deed. You are already making a very fine Tailor! The future is looking quite bright for you, Jim. So long as you bow your head and work hard. Which I know you will. I have one more task for you…’
Hearing this frightened Jim deeply.
What was the madman going to ask him to do next?
Grey held out his hand and ordered Jim to kiss the bejewelled ring on his middle finger.
Jim did so, very awkwardly, but he did it nonetheless.
Jim did not want to upset a man this powerful and dangerous man, not when they were seemingly on such good terms.
But Grey did appear to be happy with Jim in that moment.
‘I have a gift for you,’ Grey continued.
O yes? How interesting!
Pray tell more!
My ears are yours, Mr Grey!
All ears both ears indeed!
Grey handed Jim a rectangular leaden box about 12.6 in width and: 5.5 in height.
‘O what’s this then!’ said Jim excitedly. ‘You know that one gram of radium is worth a lot of money…?’
Jim was joking, of course, but the robotic face of Mr Grey did not appreciate it.
Grey winced not one single atom of a smile.
‘Better than that,’ Grey replied. ‘You will find inside this box the deeds to the bankers house. The old Banker has passed away, voluntarily of course, and his position is now yours! Enjoy it, Jim. You are a man of import in town. And for your knowledge, radium is not worth a lot in Fenwick. With all the railroads being closed you won’t be able to sell it to anybody, and nobody in this town would ever buy it. However, the humble piece of paper lying inside this box is worth the dreams of many men. You have come far, Jim. So take the box, and I say again to you with all my heart, enjoy.’
‘I am flattered! And I really do feel like I do not deserve this, but well, I will certainly not say no. Of course not,’ Jim replied, humbly. ‘I would indeed be stupid to refuse such a fine gift! I am looking forward to serving as the new Banker. So do I really get to live in that big old house by the gate?’
‘That and more,’ Grey replied. ‘You will attend the great meetings of the Tailors. You will offer counsel. You are now a part of the fabric of Fenwick. There are those who grease the wheels of this town - and then there are those who control the wheels - and that is where you are right now, Jim.’
Jim replied, saying that he embraced the position with relish.
‘Tomorrow you will occupy your new home,’ said Grey. ‘Your first task will be to invite Tony King to your table. You will assure him that your contract with him is secure, and you are ready and willing to supply him with all the G-Juice his business requires. We need that contract, Jim. Your business is now the Tailors business, and we need the money to fight the war with the Brazilians.’
‘I am with you, Grey, and I thank you for all that you have done for me! But I cannot brew the juice anymore,’ said Jim. ‘I don’t have a brewery anymore. Well, to be honest, we never had one to begin with, but Butch and I used to cook the stuff in the cellar beneath Rod’s house. But now Rod is dead and his house is gutted and controlled by the Brazilians… I still have the recipe, of course, in my head as always! But I have absolutely no equipment to work with!’
‘It matters not what has become of Rod’s old house,’ Grey replied, in his cold robotic voice. ‘Yes. The Rod residency has fallen behind enemy lines in recent times, but the Tailors have made preparations for a counterstrike. You do not need Rod’s house to work any longer. In fact you do not need to work at all! We have built a new brewery close to the eastern wall of the town. It is disguised as an abandoned warehouse, but it is completely under Tailor control. I have employed a select pick of men to run the brewery, and they are ready to brew the juice… All they need is the recipe, and then they can get to work!’
It seemed that Grey had a plan for everything!
And then he went on to say this:
‘This new brewery will be able to keep up with Tony King’s demands. In time we will be able to expand. The more G-Juice we can sell the more money we can make, and the more money that we have the better able we will be to fight the war…’
‘I think this plan is great,’ said Jim. ‘But my recipe for G-Juice is a secret! I can’t give it away! I am being serious here. I will never joke about this! It is the only leverage I have right now! And the recipe is not written on paper anymore! It is ALL memorised up here in this old brain of mine. I am not going to give away such knowledge freely. If that upsets you then, do what you will. But I can’t just give you the recipe for free…’
‘But you won’t be giving it for free,’ Grey replied. ‘I have just made you the Banker of the Town. You have access to the castle gates. You are the second most powerful person in Fenwick. You hold the deeds to such power right now in your hands! We are allies, Jim, and we have to work together if we have any hope of surviving. I am being serious now! As we speak there is a war going on in the streets! A war we could very well lose at any time. I can’t afford that. None of us can. Money is the key to breaking the stranglehold the Brazilians have over this town. And G-Juice is going to make the money we need to win!’
‘I hear you, Mr Grey. And I respect you and I like you. You have done a lot for me in the brief time we have known one another. But I still need leverage. Look at it from my point of view. There is a war going on. All my friends are dead. The old Banker disappears voluntarily. I get a bit of paper, a nice lead box and well here we are. Who is to say that someone won’t try to make ME disappear voluntarily as well? Do you catch my meaning now, Mr Grey? So the recipe stays in my head. At least until I have made enough money for myself to fly, or sail away to some nice island somewhere with palm trees and sunny weather. Somewhere, preferably, where there is not a war going on and there are people out and about trying to kill me, or inject me with hormone drugs.’
Grey knew he had been beaten in the discussion:
There were no metaphorical corners for him to swerve around - Jim had him in a gibbet and Grey knew it.
Without the recipe for G-Juice the Tailors were finished…
After a horrible minute of silence had come and gone the robot-like man sighed heavy and replied:
‘Very well, Jim. I understand and respect the position that you are in. Life is cheap in these times of war, friends are few and far between. Alliances are bridges waiting to be burned. A man needs a castle to call his own. So respectfully I will go along with your game. This is what I propose,’ said Grey. ‘You manage my people in the brewery. You direct the brewing of the drink. But the secret to the recipe will remain your prize alone. What say you to that, Jim?’
‘I say that is a very fine plan,’ Jim replied.
‘Excellent! Then let us drink to our success!’
Drink?
‘Can I ask a question?’ said Jim. ‘Just this one question, and that is it. I will drink with you. I will celebrate with you. I will make money with you. I will fight your war for you: But please answer this one thing - why did you want me to kill Butch? I mean, what I am trying to say is this - it doesn’t make sense tome why you wanted the man dead?’
‘I didn’t want him dead,’ Grey replied, in his cold robotic voice.
Jim was astonished by this response.
Grey continued:
‘We Tailors take a big risk when we recruit a new member. The risk is even greater when it is an outsider. Butch was loyal. I liked him. And so did you. He was your personal friend. He had your back in the streets. You respected him and you needed him. If you were ready to kill such a fellow for the cause, then well, I knew we had a fellow Tailor in the making. So welcome aboard, Jim! Drink it in and enjoy yourself, the new Banker in Fenwick. Sacrifice is essential to success, my friend. I think you have lived in this town long enough to understand that now.’
Grey took out a litre bottle of wine from a wooden box - Fenwick reserve - was written on the box.
‘I didn’t think you drunk alcohol?’ said Jim. ‘Sorry for me bringing this up, Mr Grey, it’s just something I remember you saying from our last conversation… As an alcoholic myself I have a habit of remembering such things’
‘Read the label. 0%,’ Grey replied.
Of course.
How nice.
A non alcoholic drink of wine with a lifeless robot man.
What a pleasant evening it was promising to be.
Jim might as well been supping Pepsi from a fluted glass in front of the TV.
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