The Architect #4

I followed Haddock-Harry down into the lane. It was still dark this early in the morning but it was easy to follow his hot-fish-yoghurt stench as he led the way. He didn't have to lead me far before we came upon Bin-Raker who was standing furtively beside a big grey dumpster, one hand resting on it as if it were the flanks of a lover.

Mornin' Harry. What's he doin here?

Bin-Raker twitched his head sullenly in my direction. He was a small and weedy fellow with a thin, wispy moustache. It made him look like he had been rimming a large buttocked animal of some kind.

Haddock-Harry made to speak but I gave him a swift jab with a pointy elbow in the ribs and stepped past him.

I'm here to find out what you know about... The Architect?...

Bin-Raker winced as if the pizza he had ordered had arrived with pineapple on it.

We don't mention him down 'ere.

He said curtly.

Hey, BoomDawg. Wait your bloody turn. I want to buy my fags?

Haddock-Harry had recovered from my elbow bash and was now jostling in beside me.

You love yer fags dontcha? Ere, I packed em up all nice for ya.

Bin-Raker dipped his hand into the big grey dumpster beside him and pulled out a filmy looking plastic bag with a carton of cigarettes vaguely visible within.

Fifty quid.

He said, holding out his hand for some Haddock-Harry greasy hand action. Money was quickly exchanged and disappeared into a filthy looking pocket in Bin-Raker's coat.

Haddock hung about uncertainly for a moment.

Everything alright then?

He waved his bag of cigarettes vaguely in my direction.

Bin-Raker snorted contemptuously.

Yeah, bugger off. Till next time. Say hello to your mum for me. Heh heh.

He chuckled wetly like a drain at the end of a shit-pipe.

Haddock-Harry nodded then swiftly moved off out of the steadily lightening alleyway. Bin-Raker eyed me warily, his hand back on the flanks of the dumpster beside him.

Go on then. Whatcha wanting to know about him?

He curled his lip up in clownish sneer at me as he said this.

I want to know everything. Who is he? Where can I find him? Why is everyone so scared of him?

My questions rattled out like farts after a spicy chickpea curry.

Bin-Raker sniggered, somehow managing to swagger whilst standing still. He held his hands out in the universal give me money way.

That kind of information... Well, it don't come cheap?

He leered at me as if my name were Betty and I had overdone it on the lipstick.

You want me to pay you? Me? Pay you?

Now it was my turn to sneer, the very idea of paying a moustached man for any kind of service giving me the heebs.

Yeah, bloody right you will pay me. Or you can fuck right off.

He snarled, his feet spreading out as he dropped into an amateurish fighting stance as if to scare me.

I eyed him up and down distastefully as if he were some poorly cured salmon.

You want paying?

I stated.

Bin-Raker nodded, a slimy looking smile spreading out on his face. He started to straighten up, convinced now he had shown me who was The Daddy.

I lashed my foot out straight between his legs. It connected with a meaty thwok and Bin-Raker jerked up before dropping like a stone clutching at his haw-maws.

He kicked around in a circle at my feet making a weird breathing moaning noise.

I loomed over him.

You want some more... 'paying?'

I asked, my voice a menacing whisper.

Oh my god, my balls... My beautiful balls. What??? Why? Why did you do that? I think you've broke them?!

I reached out and grabbed a fistful of his grubby coat and hauled him to his feet. He hung from my hand, curled around his Bertie Bassetts like an overcooked prawn.

The Architect. Spill. Tell me everything?

Bin-Raker made a high pitched whining noise as he tried to straighten up.

There aint much to tell. No-one knows, he runs the show, that's all. That's all anyone knows, that's why they are scared of him?!

I gave Bin-Raker a shake as if he were wet trousers.

Where can I find him? Answer me!

Bin-Raker moaned and shook his head, hands resolutely cupped to his balls as if he could Reiki them back into action.

The first floor, up by the photocopiers. That's where his office is but you can't go. No-one ever comes back from there!

I dropped Bin-Raker to the ground where he continued to mewl and writhe.

No-one eh?

I adjusted my Fedora to a slightly more handsome angle.

We'll see about that.

I headed off, into the pale dawn sun. To the first floor...