wet fiefdoms

the well never dries

The bandit finds himself in the city center, a floppy clenched in his hand, buried in the pocket of his coat. He finds a café and seats himself by a table on the busy street. A stream of tourists trickles around the astronomical clock, just as the bell tower begins its deafening concert. One in the afternoon, coffee for 125 crowns. The air is cold.

A man in a striped waistcoat sits down next to the bandit.

WAISTCOAT: Mister Cheblik?

BANDIT: I have it.

WAISTCOAT: Not here, Mister Cheblik. Meet me at the entrance of the Jewish cemetery in 4 hours.

BANDIT: I can just give it to you now...

WAISTCOAT: You're being followed.

The man in a waistcoat stands up and disappears into the trickle of tourists. Detective Dvorsky rushes in to the café, wire in his ear.

DVORSKY: *into the microphone* He's gone.

DVORSKY: What did he want?!

BANDIT: He asked for spare change. I have hardly enough to pay for this pisspoor coffee... Wasn't he an extravagant beggar.

DVORSKY: Damn it!

DVORSKY: *into the microphone* The bandit slipped away, I'm going back to the office.

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