Facing Worlds - Chapter 1

Chapter 2

The man was still standing by the entrance, his back on the closed door. He had apparently caught his breath back and was staring at me, waiting for some more input from yours truly. Far from me the intention to let him down:

"Some people think I have an obsession with details. I don't deny it: it's an asset in my profession. So, at the risk of sounding too anal, indulge me this delicate and personal question: What is your name?"

The man looked at me for a moment, then let a little smile blooming: "I'm sorry, Mr. Murphy, I'm aware that my introduction was far from usual protocol. My name is Smith. Chester Smith."

"If we're about to do some business together, Mr. Smith, I suggest we move to my office where we could calmly go over all the details of this affair."

I instantly noticed a glimmer of fear in the eyes of the stranger. He instinctively spread his arms across the door. I've seen Sylvia once doing the same thing with the cabinet doors. Guess what was inside? Anyway, somehow, Mr. Smith didn't like the idea of going outside. Granted, Rook's air conditioner was doing miracles. Still, I had a feeling there was something more than just the heat in Smith's resistance to exit the store and set foot on the street. Mostly when considering the fact that he stormed into the place, breathless.

A quick glance at Rook told me he was as clueless as I was. "Is there a problem, Mr. Smith?" I said. "Is someone chasing you or something?"

"Maybe, I don't know."

"I'm sorry but we can't monopolize Rook's shop here."

Smith turned around and tried to look through the windows. Unfortunately for him, between all the posters and the dirt, there was no efficient way to scout the street that way. I decided to intervene:

"Rook, may we use your backyard?"

"Sure, Murphy, go ahead."

"Mr. Smith," I said while I was opening the back door: "this way, please."

Chester Smith quickly peeked in the alley before he exited the store.

"Sorry, Rook, we'll do that poker game another time."

Rook Garner gave me a Who the heck is this guy look as a farewell. I shrugged my shoulders in response and joined my new client.

"Just follow me around here and let's take a peek through that fence." I murmured. "What kind of people are you hiding from?"

"I don't know." he shot back.

Suddenly, it felt more like paranoid than justified suspicion in my mind. Still, they say the client's always right. "Never upset a client" Buck and Harley used to say. I stuck my head through the fence and took a look at Chandler Avenue.

The street was deserted, with the exception of Chelsee who, by the looks of it, was finishing prepping her newsstand for today's business.

"Just stay here." I told Smith. "I'm gonna scout ahead to make sure the way is clear."

"Look out for people in gray speeders." He replied.

"Rrright. Just stay put."

I slipped through the fence and threw another quick glance around. Nope. No gray speeders in view.

"Tex? What are you doing there?" It was Chelsee Bando, the hottest mutant in town. At least in my book. Even after all the stuff that happened between us, she was still not quite my girl. I thought that kiss we shared in front of the Golden Pagoda would have seal the deal. Then again, getting shot at mere minutes later might not have acted as the ideal aphrodisiac. The rest of the story would be too long to tell right now. Suffice it to say that, somehow, my legendary savoir-faire with women failed me again and it was back to square one with the lovely newsstand girl.

"Hi Chelsee!" I tried to smile. Jelly knees again.

"Since when are you up so soon in the morning?"

"Listen, Chelsee, I want to ask you: Did you see unusual people around here this morning?"

She looked up at my question: "As a matter of fact, yes I did. Just after I got here, there was this guy who came running from around Louie's. He climbed the stairs and knocked on your door. After ten seconds, he rushed back down and zipped right by me and entered Rook's..."

"This guy doesn't count, I know who he is. Aside from him."

"Aside from him?" she paused for a couple of seconds. "I can't say that I did... No, everything is as usual."

"Ok, thanks, Chelsee."

"No problem, sweetie."

Mmmmmm, she called me sweetie. That was a good sign. I walked back to the fence between the Old Slice O' Heaven Pizza Parlor and Rook's Pawnshop: "It's alright, Mr. Smith, you can come out. There's no one suspicious out here."

After a quick survey of his own, my new client slipped out from his hiding place. "I appreciate your dedication, Mr. Murphy. I'm aware all of this must look weird from your point of view. Let's just say that not everything is what it seems in this affair. And I'm not the only one on the trail of Franklin and the Red Warrior."

"The Red Warrior." I repeated as we were at the bottom of the stairs leading to my office. "That's the name of the statuette?"

"In short, yes."

"And you're saying your associate, Jules Franklin, took it away from you?"

"No, I didn't say that. But I strongly suspect it. And it's ex-associate now."

"I guess. You also spoke of a stone you two found in Egypt. Is that relevant?"

"It might very well be, Mr. Murphy." He answered with some emphasis. "I have come to believe there are some forces at work here. Forces my comprehension can't quite grasp at the moment."

I stood there for a moment, my hand on the handle of my office door. Yes, he also spoke of powers the statuette might contain. Mmmmm... I came to have a bad superstition about statuettes in one of my earlier cases. And, from the looks of it, this one seems to hold its fair share of complications.

I opened the door and said: "I don't quite get everything you're telling me either, Mr. Smith. Let's proceed into my office, where you will give me all the details regarding this affair.

Right before I followed him inside, I glanced at Chelsee, right across the street. She gave me the same look as Rook did: Who the heck is this guy? All I could do was to shrug my shoulders again.