“I’ll pay for the cab,” Ellen said as one pulled up in answer to her hail.
“That’s OK,” I told her. “I’m walking.”
“You sure? The fog’s still pretty strong in places. You might get mowed down.”
“I’ll take my chances.” I kissed her cheeks. “See you, Ellen.”
“Soon,” she said. “You don’t need to wait for special occasions to call. Get it?”
“Got it.”
“Good.”
We smiled, then parted. I watched the cab disappear into the fog, then went for a walk. Back home I collected the marble from the kitchen and took it to bed. I studied it for ages, running my fingers along the streaks of gold. I fell asleep with it in the palm of my left hand, but when I woke in the morning it was gone, and although I searched all over, I couldn’t find it anywhere. It seemed as if it had been lost to the shades of the night.
2
Tuesday morning. Back to work.
I cycled to Shankar’s for breakfast. One of the perks of working for The Cardinal — free meals at Shankar’s. I wasn’t a regular — most mornings I grabbed a bagel from Ali or a sandwich at work — but I liked to pop by a few times a week.
I parked out back. My bike was my only means of transport. I cycled everywhere, unless on a job with the Troops. I started using it when I got busted for drunk driving some years ago. Enjoyed it so much, I stuck with it even when I got my license back.
Shankar’s was a huge, open-plan, two-story structure (the upper floor was made out of glass) but barrenly decorated. Leonora Shankar was a famed minimalist.
I spotted a flock of Troops gathered by a table near the door and slotted in. Jerry and Mike were the only ones from my shift but I knew the rest of them. Most members of The Cardinal’s personal army got to know each other over the years. There weren’t that many of us, and we were all bound to the city, so we were a close-knit group.