case 3 part 3

My fav part, with nice setting, and characters, dialogue, and the swirling fan....man, i can be so shameless...haha... :P
this part is specially dedicated to Liliane ;-)

Part 3 – White Glove Don

The Medallion club coffee shop is long established, and patrons flocked from far and near to try out its fabled hand grounded coffee. For more exotic taste, mustang seed coffee is also available.

The pre-world war facade still stands, and makes it stand out from the other shops nearby. The ground floor is filled with customers of all sorts, crying babies, naughty kids, busy parents, and grandparents sipping coffee. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee and toasted bread hot from the oven invaded my nostrils. Ah, this brings back fond memories of my childhood days with my grandfather, dipping cream crackers in coffee before eating them. I snapped back to reality when i remembered White Don is waiting for me upstairs.

Walking up the wooden staircase, I reached first floor. The place was void of customers, save for a table. A far cry from the bustling scene downstairs. A fan swirled lazily above. I made a mental note to bring Lilliane here next time for coffee while watching sunset.

At the table sat a balding fat man, with sunken eyes and a hawk nose. The White Don looked like an ordinary grandfather, save for his eyes which seemed to bored thru you. He’s flanked by Left Right Protectors (Zhuo3 You4 Hu4 Fa3, 左右护法), namely Agon and Noga. All of them wore white gloves, apparently not to leave any fingerprints. But I think they must be having a hard time trying to keep the gloves white, with all their dirty jobs.

“Buongiorno, Don Nico, “ I nodded.
“Ah, if it isn’t Sticky himself, Si? Come, come, take a seat.” Don Nico offered.
“Cut the crap, don, I don’t have the whole day.”I shot back.
“Haha….playing hero, are we?” he winked. Changing his tone, “Ok, briefly, I heard you’re on the case of the death of my secretary, Kana….i mean Kan Asai. I don’t want my “club” to be linked in anyway to this. Si? Or else…” He threatened.
“Else what? I cant promise you anything…”I dared.
“Else your brains will be served on a platter.” He sure knew how to make an offer I cannot refuse.
“We’ll see how it goes.” I answered as brave I could.
“The choice is in your hands. Ciao.” With a wave of his hand, they left, leaving me staring at their backs, shouting mental Italian curses, with the creaking fan still swirling.

To be continued…

note : Buongiorno = good morning (in italian)
Si = yes (in italian)