This is the personal blog of alisonraymond

Information is power, power is money, that's the way the world goes around!

Peter drew his vehicle to the curb and stopped beneath the street lamp as instructed. Double yellow lines delineated the gutter.

A man stepped from the shadows his hat pulled low and his collar raised.
Peter lowered the window. “Have you got it?” Anxiety sang in Peter’s voice.
“Yeah, I got it, but have you got the money?” The voice was strong and the delivery was practised, Peter caught a flash of twinkling eyes deep within the shadow of the man’s hat and he shuddered.
Peter composed himself. “Yes, I have the money but…”
The man placed his hands upon the door and drew himself close.
“Listen buddy, I got the information you need right?”
Peter nodded, struck mute by the sudden reaction.
“...and you, you got the money which I need, right?”
Again Peter nodded.
“So, you hand over the shamolies and I give you this little bitty bit of paper, that’s the way it works Judy!”

Although baffled by the casual use of slang and the sarcasm, Peter was determined. “But look, how do I know that what I am buying is Kosher. I’ll give you half now, I’ll go and check that everything is as we agreed, then I’ll come back and give you the rest.”
The man straightened casting his eyes left then right. He spoke slowly and clearly. “My friend, what do you do? I mean, like, what is your line of business?”
Peter gave a puzzled frown. “I sell houses, I am an estate agent”. The man exploded into laughter. “You sell real estate? Man, it ain’t often that I deal with a bigger crook than me!”

In a flash the laugh was gone and the man spoke seriously again. “So, Mr real estate agent, say I am buying one of your flash houses and I say ‘OK, I’ll just pay you for the garage for now, I’ll move in with my family for a couple of months, then if I like the garage, I’ll buy the rest of the house.’ Now, correct me if I am wrong, but I suspect that this is not the way that things work in the real estate business. Am I right?”
Peter nodded.
“Ok, so hand me that money you are holding and we can both be happy.”

Peter reached out his arm, the man pushed back his hat and smiled, Peter hesitated, withdrawing his hand.
“But what if?”
“Just give me the god damn money.” The man reached in through the open window and snatched the cash before forcing a piece of paper into Peter’s hand.

Peter opened the folded paper. He read the address immediately recognising it as being only a few blocks from where he was. Relief lit his face. He turned to thank his informer, but only the night and the wind and the rain remained.
Peter closed the window, started the engine and set off in pursuit of his quarry.
“Funny!” he thought, “the things you have to do these days just to find a parking space in the West End!”