“Ah you’re finally here,” Kat said, putting out her cigarette.
Mike ignored her sneer. “I’ve got 7 minutes. Hurry.”
“Oh order a drink at least; hey Bart!” she called to the barman. “Get me-”
“We don’t need a drink,” he cut her off. Bart scuttled away to the kitchen.
“Wait, Kat. Who’s that guy? I told you we need to meet alone.” he asked, drawing her attention to the man sitting at the other end of the bar counter. His hat covered most of his face,shielding it from the light of the bar.
“Oh, his name’s Jim! He’s a regular here. Don’t bother about him, he’s probably drunk off his senses.” she replied, nonchalantly.
“Fine. Now tell me, did you meet Avis?” he asked.
“I don’t know any Avis. I just invited you here for a drink, Mike.”
“Don’t waste my time, Kat. Did Avis give you the,” he looked apprehensively across the counter, and lowered his voice further, “the… thing?”
“Stop being so cryptic,” she said, pulling out a lipstick from her handbag. She opened it and put it close to her lips, pretending to apply it.
“Nice colour, eh?” she showed him the rolled open lipstick. It was bright red from the outside, but there was a hollow down the centre. He took it from her hand, and examined the stones that were glistening from within the hollow.
“That’s got all of them?” he asked.
“Every last one.”
“Good.” he kept a black suitcase at her feet. “I’ll make a move. Boss will be proud.”
“Oh, he already is.” Kat flipped her hair. The contents of the suitcase seemed to satisfy her.
Mike pocketed the lipstick, and took off into the night.
He didn’t notice a silhouetted figure stealthily walking behind him.
He didn’t realise when that figure pulled out a pistol and aimed it at the back of his head.
And the last thing Mike heard was a sharp deafening bang, before everything went black.
So he didn’t realise that the hand that took the lipstick from his pocket belonged to the man named Jim.
This post is in response to this Weekly Writing Challenge on The Daily Post.