A Few Words...

Cutting Through

Just cutting through, having disembarked from the locomotive at Platform Three over at the shiny new Waverley Station. The steam from the train was still in his lungs as he started the ascent, through Fleshmarket Close and on towards the High Street where is business was chiefly concerned. He would take the short cut, wander up through Jackson’s Close and on to the Anchor Tavern where he would engage Mr Wilson and make his proposal.

His proposal was sound and if he failed to scrutinise his ulterior motives, this was of no concern to him. Mr Wilson was old enough and ugly enough to know his own mind and his understand his own business. The deck would be stacked in his favour and Mr Wilson would be none the wiser. As he wandered through the close, not a thought was given to the advancement of steps behind him. He was blissfully unaware of the stranger in the long dark cloak who had also disembarked the train from Kings Cross to Waverley. He had been followed for the last five minutes and his scheming and planning was soon to be his undoing.

The steps got closer as he walked through the arch and moved towards Cockburn Street. Not quick enough, as it would soon be revealed to the world and to him…