Eddington Don’t Drink The Coffee

When Sam called me I didn’t ask how. “Did I do any permanent damage?” “No, I realized in time, though I wish you had given me a little more warning. I’m not as quick as I was. How’s the plan going?”

“Well, I’ve bought three guns, made a lot of noise, and there’s a guy following me. I drove near the university this morning and haven’t been alone since. So I’m scared out of my wits.”

“You haven’t been alone since you left Eddington. I got a call from Otecko when the police picked up the Professor’s assassin. He told me his grandson would pull something crazy after another run in.”

I was relieved more than I wanted to show, so I ignored the comment. After hitting him, he deserved to aggravate me a little, so I acted a little aggravated. Then I asked him if he could smuggle me a bulletproof vest. I didn’t care for his answer, and I wasn’t sure if he was still getting even or was serious.

“There’s no need. Somebody like the Professor won’t shoot you. He’d simply blow up the hotel. That’s why I booked a room across the street.” Then he laughed.

“I’m kidding, he can’t afford the bad publicity. He’d do something much less dramatic, like poisoning your room service. So don’t drink the coffee.”

This time he didn’t laugh, and I didn’t either. Like any good coffee shop owner, I had brought my own. Though I did run out to the local store, I needed to pick up whatever the local equivalent was to peanut butter and jelly.

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