Serial- Part 3

Previously on… Serial:

The man called Wade, incognito as a harmless Canadian, is revealed to be an undercover operative working for an unnamed organization. Wade’s mission: to infiltrate Lewiston’s Grocery and pose as an employee while attempting to gather intelligence on Old Man Lewiston, the purveyor of the store. Once thought to be a benign old fool, it is revealed that Lewiston is actually quite the threat. In fact, according to one character, Lewiston has indeed killed before, and likely will again… Meanwhile! Whilst Wade rendezvoused with fellow agents in our previous installment, he was observed by a “large, rather menacing man of Native American descent.”

Interesting, you say?

And now, back to… Serial

 

            “Boss…” the Native American man started, still panting.

            The lofty, leather chair at the far end of the room remained motionless for a tick longer before slowly beginning to rotate, gradually turning to face the large man.

            “I didn’t- I- I don’t…”

            The chair completed its rotation. The seated Lewiston was now totally visible. He was a gaunt Caucasian male, maybe mid-seventies, with grey hair, a pencil-thin moustache, fiercely-wrinkled skin, and a surly disposition.

            “Boss, the- the Canadian,” the large man stammered “he- he was out in the parking lot right now. He was talking to some guys. I- I- I don’t know who they were, but he- Wade- he pulled a tape recorder out from his shirt and handed it to them! I just- I wanted-”

            “Silence.”

            The red man swallowed the last word on the tip of his tongue before heeding Lewiston’s command. Silence ensued.

And ensued.

After a pause of a minute or so, the old man continued.

            “Do you think I’m a fool? Is that what you think I am, Rainwater? A- a fool?”

            “Boss! Boss, no, I- I assure you, I-”

            “I SAID SILENCE!”

            Rainwater’s lips curled shut. Lewiston gazed at him angrily for a few seconds before beckoning to him, summoning him to approach. Rainwater paused briefly before walking the twenty or so paces to the desk at a relatively brisk pace. It seemed to him as though the closer he got to Lewiston, the kinder his boss’ expression became. He reached the desk.

“Rainwater, never assume that I don’t know what’s going on around here, do you understand? Tell me this: prior to the… threat we’ve been facing the past several years, who was our main competition in this town?”

            Rainwater thought.

            “Oh, who was it- the uh, the uh… the Italians?”

            “That’s correct. And about how long ago was it that they went under; or rather, we put them under?”

            “Oh gee, maybe fifteen, sixteen years.”

“That’s correct… You see this?” he inquired, caressing the leather exterior of his chair.

            “Yes, sir, I do.”

            “What is it?”

            “It’s your chair, boss. You’ve had it for… maybe fifteen, sixteen years?”

            “Yes, yes, indeed I have, old friend,” Lewiston said with a laugh “Fifteen, sixteen years. But do you know how I got it?”

            “N- No, no, not exactly, boss.”

            “I see. But surely you know what it’s made of?”

            “Oh, yeah, of course. Its Italian leather, boss. How couldn’t I know that?” Rainwater threw in, chuckling. Lewiston added a few phony guffaws, himself. There was a brief pause.

“Okay, so we, well, rid ourselves of those Italians… fifteen years ago… and then I got this pretty… pretty, leather chair… fifteen years ago,” Lewiston said, continuing to rub the leather. “Italian leather.”

            “Yup,” Rainwater stated.

            “And leather’s just… skin, isn’t it?”

            “I suppose so.”

            “One could say that we destroyed those Italians so thoroughly that we… skinned them.”

            “I guess.”

            There was an incredibly long intermission during this exchange.

            “You're an idiot” Lewiston concluded.

 

To Be Continued…

 

Reviews

[Erin]

Ooh, creepy...I like this story. It's intriging (spelling?) and suspensful.