Chapter 4

>> >>< Dimitri Griot ><< <<

The first parts of the human body that show a real sense of understanding are the eyes.

I especially love that look when a man realizes his life is about to end, and his fate is in my hands. But what I love more is getting what I want when I want it. And right now, I want an invitation to a party.

“I can’t...” Desmond’s voice cracked with fear as he cleaned another dam of sweat from his face.

He clears his throat and looks around the restaurant as if any one of the black-suited men would save him. He turns back to me;

“M-Mr Griot, please understand ... It-it wasn’t my decision to exclude you from the list...,” Desmond said with a shaky voice, “I ... th-there’s nothing I could have done to prevent it. P-please, Mr Griot, it wasn’t my fault.”

I scratch a phantom itch on my brow and let out a sigh;

“Ohhh, Desmond Desmond Desmond...” I said with a sing-song tune and on cue, everyone in the restaurant sprung to their feet at attention.

That’s when Desmond realizes his life is in my hands.

He fidgets in his seat; his hands shaking and sweat pouring down his face uncontrollably.

I woke up in quite a good mood this morning and I’m not really in the mood to kill. But Desmond is starting to irritate me;

“I-I swear ... Mr Griot, p-please ... I can’t do anything about it...” He said.

“Even if I could, it’s already too late, Mr Griot. The party list is set and Mr D’manno has the list with him ... I-I ... Please understand, it was never in my power.”

I sighed;

“I’m in a slightly good mood this morning,” I said, sitting back in my chair. But my face is a direct contrast to my claim and Desmond starts to shiver under my gaze.

“I’ll give you two options.”

On cue, Cisco walked up to Desmond and pressed a silenced pistol on his head. A soft whimper escapes his lips and his hands just keep shaking in terror.

“P-please...” He whimpered.

“Get me to that party, or my man here will do exactly what I’m thinking.”

Cisco pushed Desmond’s head with the pistol and the man started mumbling over himself;

“ ... the service is ... I ... I can. We-we can talk this out. I can do anything...!” He cried, “Please don’t kill me, please ... please don’t kill me.”

Cisco looks to me, but I remain silent...

“Boss needs to get inside the party,” Cisco said.

“I’ll ask you only once,” he said, “And don’t lie to me ‘cause I know where your daughter lives.”

“Can you get Boss into the party?”

Desmond fell silent, his tongue sweeping over his lips as if searching for the right words. He cleared his throat repeatedly.

I can tell he wants to lie, but he knows exactly what would happen if he did.

“I can’t...”

I spring to my feet;

“Kill him,” I said simply and Desmond screamed.

“WAIT! I KNOW THE VENUE...! PLEASE! I KNOW THE VENUE...!”

I stopped in my tracks;

“I can get you there ... I-I know where the party is...” He said repeatedly shivering and sweating profusely.

“Where is it!” Cisco snapped and Desmond frantically brought out a pen and scribbled on a napkin.

His sweat smudged the ink and he nervously picked another napkin and wrote legible letters on it. Cisco snatched it from him and looked at me for orders.

“Please Mr Griot ... please, don’t kill me,” Desmond said, looking from Cisco’s eyes to mine.

I’m nothing but a man of principles. And there’s nothing I hate more than a worthless scum like Desmond here looking me in the eye.

“Don’t kill him, he never had what we wanted,” I said and Desmond let out a huge breath of relief;

“Thank you, Mr Griot ... Th-thank you...”

I smirked and turned to leave;

“Cut his hands and tongue.”

Desmond’s scream for mercy and help whiffed past my ears and escorted me out to the cold street.

The cold winter morning those nothing to calm the bustle and clamor of the City. The spirit of Christmas hangs thick in the air, wrapping everything in a blanket of joy and cheer.

Everything everywhere is a reminder of the holiday; the twinkling lights, the theme songs, and the festive colors all declare that it’s Christmas Eve.

I don’t really care for the festivities. The cheer and jolly is a feeling I lost years ago.

I walked straight into the waiting car and I sparked a cigar to expel the cold. Cisco got in the car with me a few minutes later and the driver roared the car to life.

“Boss?” Cisco said, handing the napkin to me.

“Looks like Mr. D’manno has gotten more paranoid since last time. How are you going to get to the party without the list?”