Dominions

2

2

- 2 -

Jimny’s cafe was in a short, narrow street on the edge of Genna’s district. It wasn’t the best of areas, but it had its advantages, and it served Jimny well.

Walking round here always brought back memories for Rodin. Like his first official contract, one thug wanting a rival removed. Not Rodin’s finest moment, and when those he’d left alive came after him a few months later he learnt an important lesson‌—‌never leave loose ends.

Further down the street, top floor of the building with the boarded-up door, was the medic who had fixed various injuries for Rodin over the years. Good work, reasonable prices, and no questions asked.

The cafe was down a few stone steps, set in a basement, and at the moment it was in the dark. Still too early for Jimny to open.

Rodin headed down a side-road, round to the alley leading up the back of the buildings. No street lights, and the piles of rubbish strewn next to large metal containers loomed in on him. The air was heavy with rotten food and mould, and the hint of blood and violence. Rodin walked fast to the plain wooden doorway set in the wall to his left.

He used a blade to lever the catch, and stepped into Jimny’s small back-yard, barely a couple of paces long. He closed the wooden door, then pressed down on the handle to the back-door of the building itself.

Rodin paused, shaking his head. It seemed wrong, how little security Jimny had on his property. But the man was safe. He’d made sure of that, over the years. His cafe might provide good food and drink, but it also offered far more. Always listening and learning, Jimny knew what was happening better than most, and he used that knowledge well. People might appreciate his fine cooking, but it was information they really came for.

Information could be a dangerous thing, though, and Jimny ensured he never showed favouritism. His help was impartial, and he treated everyone the same‌—‌as loyal customers (even if this was their first visit) who deserved his respect and attention, at least while they were within his domain.

Not everyone understood this, though. A couple of years ago three brothers from Garrick’s district had demanded recompense after Jimny’s information helped an enemy of theirs. But they’d talked too much, and one morning all three were discovered dangling from the street light closest to the cafe. They were only taken down when Jimny complained that they made the place look untidy.

Rodin eased the door open and stepped into the back room that doubled as both kitchen and storeroom. He reached for his screen and used the soft blue glow to look around. Impeccably clean, of course‌—‌once his last customer had left, Jimny would have scrubbed the whole place, ready for the morning. Even the toilet, hiding in what was little more than a closet, was spotless.

Rodin carried on through to the cafe itself, making no attempt to tread quietly. The ten tables seemed far apart, but that was only because the chairs were on top of them, not cluttering up the floor. He walked to a corner table, removed a chair, set it down, and then sat, his back to the wall. And he waited.

It wasn’t long before he heard creaking from Jimny’s living quarters upstairs. The creaking grew louder, then there was a click of a door, and Jimny walked out of the back room. He wore his normal uniform‌—‌loose-fitting black trousers that bunched up at the bottom of his short legs, a white shirt with sleeves rolled up, and an apron tied around his ample waist.

Jimny flicked a switch on the wall, and the ceiling started to glow, the light gradually building. He looked over to Rodin, and it was impossible to read his bleary eyes. If Jimny felt any annoyance at being woken so early, he showed no indication of it.

“Sorry. I was not open,” he said as he shuffled to Rodin’s table, taking down the remaining chairs and placing them around the tables with practised precision. “If you bear with me, I will start the coffee. Black and strong, yes?”

Rodin took coffee however it was offered, but Jimny was an expert at reading his customers. Rodin was in no mood for a milky comfort drink. He needed a shot.

He nodded, and Jimny’s face erupted with a smile. He darted into the back room, rubbing his hairless head as he went. Rodin watched him prepare the coffee‌—‌pouring beans into the machine, starting the grinding, adding the water. As the machine rumbled away, Jimny whistled tunelessly.

In many ways, Rodin envied the cafe owner. He was king of his domain, a master of his work. He didn’t worry where the next contract would come from, had nothing to fear from others in his profession seeking revenge. He lived a life of peace, perfectly content with his position.

But Rodin knew this wouldn’t be the life for him. He couldn’t imagine staying in one place for so long. He’d only remained in Genna’s district because it afforded a period of stability in which he could cement his reputation. Even then, he’d moved lodgings every few months. Soon, it would be time to seek work in another district.

It was simply one more facet of the career he’d chosen.

Jimny appeared by Rodin’s side and placed a large steaming mug on the table. Rodin nodded his thanks. The aroma was dark and bitter, and he breathed in deep.

“Some food?”

Rodin nodded again, even as Jimny turned back to his kitchen. Of course, the man had known the answer before even asking, just as he knew what Rodin wanted to eat.

There were no menus in Jimny’s cafe. He could cook from requests, but Jimny had a knack of knowing exactly what his regulars wanted. Rodin was certain the man kept a database somewhere, but he’d never seen the cafe owner refer to a screen.

There were no fixed prices, either. At the end of a meal, the customer paid whatever they felt the service deserved‌—‌and that included not only the food and drink, but also everything else that Jimny provided. There was the atmosphere, and the security of this cafe‌—‌it was one of the few places where Rodin was able to relax, free from possible attack. And, of course, there was the information Jimny provided.

Wonderful aromas wafted from the back room, and it was not long before the cafe owner appeared once more, the plate in his hands containing a fluffy omelette, golden brown on top, and a side-salad‌—‌various green leaves, shiny red tomatoes, a smattering of cress. The veg, Rodin knew, would be fresh. With Jimny’s contacts, he could lay his hands on the best, no doubt at a discount, or even as a gift for ‘services rendered’.

The omelette was good, as he knew it would be. It filled a hole he wasn’t aware of, and the strong coffee jolted him back to his senses. As he placed the cutlery down on the now empty plate, he leaned back with a satisfied groan.

“I will open the doors in a moment, my friend,” Jimny called from the back room, the clatter of pots and pans momentarily silencing. “But I can afford a moment before that.” He shuffled over. “All good?”

Rodin nodded.

“I am pleased. Will there be anything else?”

That was the cue. “I do have something on my mind.”

“Ah.” Jimny pulled out a chair and sat. “I knew you were not simply here for refreshments and my company.”

Rodin felt like he should return a compliment, but he couldn’t take up too much of Jimny’s time. “Someone was looking for me.” It wasn’t a question.

“You are an important man, my friend. I hear good things about the work you do, and your services are in demand.”

“This person may not have been after my services.”

“I see. Something more personal. But maybe they found you through other means.”

Interesting. Not ‘will find you’, future, but ‘found you’, present. “They did,” he said.

Interesting“Then is that not good? They were looking for you, and they found you.”

“I’m not keen on surprise visits. I’d be interested to know who sent them.”

Both men sat silent for a moment. Jimny had his head c****d, a half-smile on his lips, his expression giving nothing away. If Rodin didn’t know better, he’d imagine the man was simple.

At last, Jimny sighed. “Your name is spoken often, but one who sought information might be of note, although he asked nothing directly. It was merely in his conversation. You understand?”

Rodin did. Mention a name and hope others talk. Get your information without others realising they are giving it.

Mention a name and hope others talk. Get your information without others realising they are giving it.“He was a gentleman.”

Rodin raised an eyebrow. Jimny spoke hesitantly, and Rodin got the impression the cafe owner was unsure of this ‘gentleman’.

“He spoke with no accent, but his delivery was long-winded. He used words that I do not know the meaning of. He wore clothes that I would not want to dirty.” A shrug. “He was a gentleman.”

“When was he here?”

Jimny rocked his head to either side. “Days come and go. It is so hard to keep track. But maybe five days. Yes, that feels right.”

“What did he learn?”

“Ah. Of that, I cannot say. Some people talk, others listen. He was a listener. He listened to what people said, and to what they didn’t say. He listened to their voices and their bodies.”

Rodin thought back to the girl, and the man standing by the trees. “Did he have a long coat?”

“I believe he did. A long coat to protect his gentlemanly attire. And a hat, too.”

“And his purpose?”

A shrug. “That I could not read. Too closed. He had a face that gave nothing away, and although he was cordial, I doubt he suffers fools gladly. He would make a good friend, and a dangerous enemy. That is all I can tell you, my friend.”

Jimny took Rodin’s plate and mug, and returned to the kitchen. Rodin rose, leaving a neat pile of coins on the table.

Jimny reappeared from the kitchen and headed to the front door. He slid the bolts across and flung the door open wide, the stink of the street pushed back by the warmth of coffee and cooking. Rodin nodded politely and stepped outside, ascending the short flight of steps up to street level, where the cold light of morning cast a dim glow on the greyness.

A cough made him turn. Jimny smiled. “Maybe she can help, my friend. I know you do not see eye to eye, but‌…‌she is a good woman. Maybe she can help.” Then he turned, letting the door close behind him.

Maybe she can help. Genna.

Maybe she can help. Genna.