The arrow had struck chest, yet it was not the chest it was aimed at. Speare had done something that if he had thought about it would have fallen under the realm impossible. That’s right, he had vaulted out of the booth almost snake like to tackle sweater down. The chest struck was literally a promotional treasure chest for some Sponge Bob Square Pants Happy Meal toys.
A quick glance up and the screech of truck tires. The shooter was making good an escape. Speare was on his feet and moving out of the restaurant. Not sure if this is something that would fall under the normal restaurant protocols of phoning the police. It was definitely a new one on Speare having a prospective client shot at by a bow and arrow.
By the time he got to the parking lot, the stereo typical fire engine red dually truck was already onto 32 ave NE and flying. Sirens stated that police had been called. It always amazed Speare how each first responder group had their own siren sound. Speare headed back into the restaurant to enjoy his free refill and see if Samuel had any answers as to who would send an assassin archer his way.
Unfortunately once inside, the refill on his McCafe was the easy part. Samuel was no where to be seen. During the futile chase to get a license number, the accountant like man had made his own escape. Speare takes out his flip phone and dials an all to familiar bookstore number.
“Hey Sax why is your hubby referring folks to me?”
Not a very helpful opening line, but it was strange that Natan would refer someone, and not give an inkling that danger could be afoot with the usual deductive fun and games. Speare sipped on his coffee as the constables came in. They looked at the arrow in the display, the shattered glass, and then a Constable Fox noted Speare sipping his coffee.
“Aw fuck me, how did I not know this crazy ass call would somehow involve you?” Fox said. He had been a constable in District five for many years, almost came across some days as a stodgy Irish cop out of Murdoch Mysteries with his world views. But Speare did like him. Speare flipped shut his phone to open up the conversation, Sax hadn’t had time to respond to Speare’s opening salvo anyways, his friend would understand.
“Here’s the quick 411 cause my cuppa is almost done. Bloke name Samuel, looked like an accountant, or that actor out of Little Shop of Horrors, Rick Moranis, had set up a meeting to discuss a case. Our meeting was interrupted by said arrow coming through the window. I went to chase the shooter.” Speare stated.
“And while you nicked out, so did the client.” Fox finished. “Did you at least get the license number?”
“No one ever gets the license number.” They said in unison, sadly this was a dance they had danced more often than either of them wanted to admit to.
Speare continued though, “Didn’t see the shooter, but a dually fire engine read truck bolted out of here heading towards Barlow or Deerfoot at the time after the arrow went through.”
Fox just nodded, scratched some more in his notebook. His partner was handing out statement papers, and checking patrons/staff ID’s. Speare took a paper and wrote out the simplistic tale again just as he had related it. One copy to the cop, another copy to him. He would add it to the collection, two more of these and Speare was certain he could redo the wall paper in his apartment.
The constables cleared the restaurant after recording contact information, and would await some crime scene guys to go over, but really they were not expecting to find much.
Speare headed towards the circle route bus stop that would take him down to the c-train, Sax’s shop was downtown and he needed to go speak with him in person. Maybe either Sax or Natan would have a way of connecting with this mysterious Samuel, or fleshing out a bit more about why someone was shooting arrows at him. Arrows, Speare never for a minute realized he would miss bullets.
Sax stared at his store phone. Something was terribly wrong with the referral Natan had made to Speare. Only reason Speare disconnected calls so quickly was either violence or police or both. Yet Sax also did not remember Natan stating he had referred any new people to Speare.
Sax clicks on the speed dial option for home (which is really an upstairs apartment owned with the bookstore). “Hey love, when you get this call back. Something hinky with Speare and some bloke named Samuel.”
The book store door chimes went. He was a smallish Rick Moranis looking man in a sweater vest and bow tie. If Sax was not certain he would swear this man was an accountant from musical theatre. “Hello and Welcome to sax and Such books. Are you looking for anything in particular?”
That’s when the man’s eyes went a brilliant emerald green as he looked right at Sax.
“Where is Natan? Where is my soulmate?”