There was a dim blue light that flickered on and off at one end of the dock and a couple of yellow ones at the corner of two warehouses in front of me. One of the warehouses had a hose and had containers of fish all around it. Shipping containers and smaller goods were scattered about towards the ocean side of the dock; As if the workers had finished up their hours and just clocked out leaving most things unattended.
I stood next to a large shipping container and felt the tiny droplets of after hour sea mist kissing the stubble on my face. I had a nice, wide brim jazz fedora on but it would seem that mist permeates everything, perhaps even my soul. I wore a long beige overcoat and had on black, skin tight leather gloves.
There was a long wooden staircase leading down to the docks from the road above and looking up at it, I noticed the shuffling steps of my contact. He was a jumpy little shit, mid 30's and already thought he owned the world. Hell, he made it longer than most I guess.
He got to the bottom step and tripped a little.
"God damn! Shit! Fucking stairs..."
There was no need for him to swear like that but it did make me feel a little better. He walked out toward the middle of the dock and stood there rubbing his hands together from under a long black overcoat.
His eyes were blue; his hair brown and slightly Auburn in places. It had been greased up but was starting to fall apart in the damp sea mist air. He would pull it back and then continue rubbing his hands together.
I watched him through the cloak of darkness for a bit as I prepared. Walking up, I focused on the sound of my jet black wingtips hitting the boards of the dock.
"Hey! Don't get any closer" He said drawing his gun, a snub nose .38.
"Relax Tim. You're a bit jumpy tonight, ya?" I said.
Putting away his revolver, he said, "Oh. It's only you, D."
"Yeah, pal. It's only me."
Shuffling with something in his coat, he pulled out a curled up manilla envelope and handed it to me.
"D, it's fucking cold out here, you got the money?"
"Just let me take a look at the file."
I began reading through the file and looking at the documents.
"Do you remember when we were 12 and we smoked cigarettes in the little rock cave behind your house?"
"Yeah. What the hell is wrong with you? This ain't no time to be nostalgic," he said, looking both ways up and down the dock. "Say where's your car, D?"
"I got dropped off. Jimmy and the boys are coming to pick me up in a bit."
"How is old Jimmy? I always liked him. That's why I'm helping him now, you know?"
"Has anyone else seen this file, Tim?"
He paused and looked at me with his hands in front of him. "No. Why would you ask that? You know I pinched it, right after the Detective gave it to me."
"Good boy, Tim."
I put my arm around him and told him, "hey, let's take a walk, there's too much light over here by the warehouses."
"I agree. You know I can't get caught. I'm one step away from suspension for what I done for you guys. I think they may suspect something. You know, Amanda and the baby would..."
I pulled my .45 from my side, put it to his head and pulled the trigger in one swift motion.
Instantly, my face was covered in blood and brain matter but I felt tiny droplets of after hour sea mist kissing the stubble on my face. Using my cloth handkerchief which was also partially wet from the sea air, I wiped off the gun handle and tossed it in the ocean. Then I wiped off my face.
Using my foot, I pushed Tim's body into the deep water beneath the dock and watched him sink. I washed what was left of Tim into the ocean with the hose and started toward the road.
Noticing a flicker from somewhere down the dock towards the city, I decided to investigate. By a burn barrel, there was a bum warming his hands. No one else was there but he looked up and saw my face. He didn't even try to run as I used his own shirt to choke him to death; only a slight defiant wriggle to consummate his denoument. Jimmy was waiting by the road in the truck and I hoped in.
"Is it done?" Jimmy asked.
"Yeah," I said.
"Any witnesses?" He asked.
"No," I said.
"Good. WELL... poor Timmy. He was a good guy," Jimmy said.
"Yeah..." I said, looking out at the ocean and the moon just starting to peek out from the clouds.
