JACK OF DIAMONDS

CHAPTER 27

Welcome to the paywall section of my Substack.

This is my serial JACK OF DIAMONDS.

He’s a thief and a womanizer, remember? A cad, a liar, and a cheat. But right now, he’s not here. He’s with Jenny’s Sister-in-law Agatha, on their way to rent him a costume for the Costume Ball later tonight…also, well, he’s banging her in the back of the car. Oh, I’m sorry, I guess you missed that because, well, you don’t want to up-grade for $30/year. Really? 2¢ a day? Well, whatev’s, right?

Anyway, that’s the logo for THE ARROGANT FROG, the club Charlie Sabatino owns in Soho, a neighbourhood in London. Artie has asked Reggie to go and drop the Strad off for him. But Charlie has a proposal for Reggie. It seems he has a deal going on with some Russians. And who do you think that could be? You’re wrong! It’s not him, it’s his son. (I threw that in there just to screw with your heads. I’m not spoiling anything, don’t worry.)

Anyway, things go South from here on in. I can’t tell you how, because that would spoil it. You really should think about up-grading at this point.

CHAPTER 27

INTO THE LION’S DEN

The Arrogant Frog

Reggie entered The Arrogant Frog, the small pub on the corner of Greek Street and Romily, that he knew as Charlie Sabatino’s haunt of old, hoping he’d find him at his usual table. Sunlight slipped in through the drawn venetian blinds, where it scattered across a parquet floor through upturned chairs resting on tabletops. He could see dust motes floating in bars of light as a girl swept the floor. The girl looked up briefly, hesitating at her chore, the broom almost stuttering before she turned, looking at the barman standing behind the counter who nodded briefly. The bottles and glasses lining the wall caught the light coming in through the blinds, reflecting diamonds of light that danced across the room. A lazy fan with one broken fin slowly spun in the shadowy depths of the timbered ceiling, a trail of cobwebs caught in its orbit as if part of the tail of a distant comet.

Charlie looked up briefly from the newspaper he was reading, and laughed, kicking a chair out from under the table. A squat, square shouldered man with a florid face, and small pince nez glasses, he sat with his elbows on the table, stooped over as he read his newspaper. Reggie wondered if it was the lack of proper lighting, or his pretentious eyeglasses causing Charlie to lean over the newspaper as he was. He wore a three piece suit with a matching waistcoat of olive green pinstripe, as well as black and white wingtips shoes. Charlie picked up his hat and gloves, moving both across the table, smiling a gap-toothed grin as Reggie reached for the chair.

“Hello, Charlie,” Reggie smiled, laying the violin case on the table.

Sitting in the chair with his back to the sunlight, Reggie relished what little warmth the sun had to offer. It was a far cry from being outside, he thought, shifting his hip uncomfortably in the chair.

“I’d heard you were dead,” Charlie said briefly, looking up from his newspaper.

“An exaggeration, I’m happy to say,” Reggie smiled, and Charlie nodded, sitting back in his chair.

He looked at the violin case and shrugged as he turned the page of his newspaper.

“What’s this?”

“A mutual friend of ours, sends it with his best regards,” Reggie smiled.

“A mutual friend? What kind of mutual friend?” Charlie asked, and leaning forward, opened the violin case. He looked at Reggie with a quizzical knot of his brow.

“Well, what is it?” he asked again, and sitting back in his chair cleaned his glasses. He replaced them on his nose and turned his attention back to his newspaper, turning the page and scanning the headlines. There was that same quizzical knot of his brow.

“Can you believe this guy?” he said, pointing at the page. “Thinks he can take over the country and tries to organize a coup, but none of his followers follow through. And why would they? Goddamned Germans. When they gonna learn? Guy looks like Chaplin. Think he does that on purpose?”

“I don’t know. I don’t follow politics too much.”

“No? Maybe you should,” Charlie smiled up at him. “I follow it a lot. You have to if you wanna survive in this line of work. Politicians, judges, police, you have to know who’s pockets to line if you wanna stay in business.”

“I get that.”

“You running around with thieves now, Reggie? Is that what you’re doing?” Charlie asked, turning the page.

“I wouldn’t go as far as to say that.”

“No? But the man I expected to bring this to me, he’s a thief.”

“I wouldn’t know anythin’ ‘bout that.”

“You wouldn’t?”

“He’s someone I met during the War.”

“Someone you served with?” Charlie smiled, and leaning forward, turned the page again. “Don’t sound to me as though you’ve left your old life behind, Reg. Sounds to me like you’re part of the concern. Is that what you are? Are you part of the concern?”

“I’m out of it, Charlie.”

“And how’s that?”

“What do you mean, ‘how’s that’? I simply am.”

“An’ yet — out of the blue — you bring me a violin, and not just any violin, this violin?”

“I told you, he’s someone I know from the War. I’m doing this as a favour for him.”

“A favour?”

“That’s right.”

“Where you living these days, Reg? I heard you moved out to the country. I didn’t believe it when they told me. I mean, a farmer? I was certain you’d come back, but you didn’t. Why’s that?”

“There was nothin’ for me t’ come back to.”

“Nothing? There’s plenty here, Reg, and all ripe for the picking, I’ll have you know. A lot of the old Vets came back and did well for themselves. They’re not afraid to mix it up, you know? They’ve got that nothing to live for attitude you need to survive out here. You don’t seem to have that about you.”

“Maybe that’s on account of me thinking I got something to live for?”