Rain lashed against the grimy window of the dingy motel room. The older man slammed his fist on the table. “There’s a kid. Skinny little thing, keeps following me. I know; I can feel it in my bones.” The tall one, scoffed. “Probably a stray cat, skittish in this weather. You know how it is in this small places.”
“Växjö is not small,” the older man murmured quietly.
“Blimey man, what happened here? Turning local in the old age,” the tall guy said laughing and looking at the rain outside the window.
“No, no. I’m sure. I keep catching him out of the corner of my eye. Lurking in doorways, watching from alleyways.” The older man rubbed his calloused hand across his brow, anxiety twisting in his gut. His line of work wasn’t exactly conducive to fans.
Across town, the dark haired boy huddled beneath a dripping awning. His thin frame trembled, not entirely from the cold. He’d been tailing the two men for days. The men who’d stolen his father’s life. He shook his head. No time for grief time for resolve and the boy had a plan, a risky one but he needed help.
The next morning schools were off, some kind of county teachers’ meeting in the city and kids in a break. The rain was still there however subsided into a cold drizzle. The boy positioned himself outside a cafe where he’d spotted the two men entering earlier. A different one this time. A smaller cafe in Sandgärdsgatan, not far from the police headquarters.
The boy took a deep breath and opened the door, a tremor of fear running through him. The bell jingled. Heads turned.
A voice, gruff yet kind, cut through the silence. “Lost, son?” Officer Carl Nisson, a friendly-faced cop with a worn leather jacket, stood beside him. Shame flooded the boy. He couldn’t tell the truth, not yet.
“Just looking for my dad,” he mumbled, hoping the officer wouldn’t press.
The cop’s eyes softened. He knew the boy and he knew his dad. He was dead, murdered, not long ago. Officer Carl Nisson sighed deeply.
“Yes, this is his place,” he murmured avoiding past tense or any mention of death. “Here, have some hot cocoa. Warm you up.” He added nodding at the woman behind the counter.
The boy felt uneasy with the two men sitting just meters away but saying no word he sat next to the police officer looking at the cu hat had just landed in front of him.
The boy sipped the sweet drink next to Officer Carl Nisson and the two thugs on the other side of the room when a plan B flickered in his mind.
“Officer,” said the boy getting closer to the policeman, “I saw a suspicious guy this morning. He looked like…” and he described the older man hoping that the description and the knowledge of the fact of who the boy was would trigger something. At least make the officer look around.
Officer Ramirez’s brow furrowed and instinctively looked around. But it was more from worry than interest. “Hold on a second, son and calm down. I know who you are and I know who your father was,” he said softly. “But you cannot go around accusing people for something like that. Let the police do the work and we know what we are doing.” The man said and looked at the young boy with real pain.
“Drink your cocoa and then go back home.” And wit that he stood up. “And me, well I have some robbers to catch,” he added smiling.
The boy looked at the thick man exit the cafe and then he felt the two men staring at him. He put on his jacket fast and almost run outside. Time for plan C.
The son of vengeance
Part 01 – Part 02 – Part 03 – Part 04 – Part 05 – Part 06 – Part 07 – Part 08
Part 09 – Part 10 – Part 11 –
The Ovi 