Oct 25 Plot Background Story

A lonely figure walked down the midnight street. The person’s shoe falls echoed off the old brick and mason buildings as he made his way towards an even darker alley. Another figure popped out, impeding the first’s way.

“Pardon me,” the man said from under his black leather Fedora.

The blocker reached out a hand and took the man’s elbow. “No, Mr. Deyman. Come with me.” He pulled the man called Deyman back into the side street.

“Where are we going?” Deyman asked. He put his hand back into the overcoat’s pockets.

“Keep your hands where we can see them,” a third male said. Deyman turned and saw a short man standing behind him.
He shook his head. “Why doesn’t anyone trust me?”

“You have a history of carrying,” the blocker stated. “It’s in here,” he added, pointing to an open door. Deyman entered, followed by the other two, into a darkened room. The door closed and eliminated what little light there had been.

“So good of you to follow the rules,” a female’s voice said from the darkness.

Deyman recognized it. “I wouldn’t have imagined it was you, Jean.”

She chuckled. “You’re very good, Nicky.” Overhead lights illuminated, causing Deyman to shield his eyes against the initial glare.
“I knew you would be surprised,” she said. The woman, a mature woman whose curves dripped with overt sexuality, stood and walked towards the man. She stopped short and looked to the two men who brought him inside.

“Did you search him?”

“No,” the first man slowly said.

Jean, her long brown hair pulled tightly in a ponytail, tilted her head. “Do you need me to tell you now?”

The second man stepped forward and patted down Deyman. “Nothing, he’s clean.”

“Just like you were told,” the woman quipped. “You’re a good boy.” The woman stepped forward and enveloped the leather-clad man in her arms. She leaned up and whispered into his ear.

“We could have been great together.” She nibbled on his earlobe.

“I know.” He inhaled deeply, closed his eyes, and tried to distance himself. “It won’t happen now.”

She sighed and broke the embrace. “I know, Nicky. Why did you have to be so goodhearted?”

He shrugged. “It’s just the way I am.”

Jean turned and walked away. She stopped at a cardboard box and leaned down. She removed a small ring box and looked at him with puppy-dog eyes. “We could walk away, just the two of us, and pawn what’s in here. No one would need to know.”

“You know that I couldn’t just walk away, not give it back to her parents.” He took a few steps forward, but her two associates grabbed him.

“I suppose you’re right.” She handed him the box and frowned.

He slipped it into a pocket without looking and shook his head. “You shouldn’t have been so trusting of me.”

“What do you mean?” the second tough guy asked. “You’re not carrying and I doubt a mic could penetrate these walls.”

Deyman grinned devilishly and looked at the woman.

“No you idiots: Nicky was followed.” The room was a enveloped in a loud crash, the door exploded open. Several armed and uniformed officers entered; some shouting orders.

“Nicky,” was all Jean could say when she realized her former lover, the goodhearted private investigator, talked with the police after all.