Chapter Thirty Eight

piopergola02

NED, GAILEN, AND THE PERGOLA

Ned continued his roaming and plotting and searching over the next several weeks in Pioneer Square. He had lived there a long time and noticed an increasing influx of homeless in all demographics and ages. He saw a tall wiry young man with a shock of black hair getting cozy with some of the homeless pimps in the Square. He was a quick learner and in no time, he was selling drugs, seducing young women on the street with smokes and liquor, and ultimately pimping them out to continue this spiral of despair.

It was Gailen of course. He found Pioneer Square to be rich with marks to do his evil bidding as well as to keep him in drugs and the requisite cash to “keep the lights on.”

Gailen was completely unaware that he was being watched over multiple days, and his newness to the Pioneer Square part of town made him easy to track. Think about the pet cat you let outside for the first time. It typically will stay close to the house first but as it learns its way around the neighborhood it soon is capable of traveling quite far from the house. Gailen was like this and stayed in a relatively small area of First Avenue South not far from the mission and within about five blocks of it.

Ned noticed that his next victim liked to sleep down at the unforgettable pergola at the First and Yesler, which is an iconic symbol of Pioneer Square. There were several iron benches there and a glass covering, which is great when it is raining. Much like the chairs, tables, and totems in Occidental Park fights were waged over this choice location. Gailen was young enough and ornery enough to capture at least one of those benches each night. Sometimes he shared drugs with some of the regulars there, and this also helped ensure his acceptance there.

This guy is not alone at night normally when he passes out on “his bench.” The crew that sleeps there with him are snoring or in a drunken stupor long before that new asshole is. That’s my ticket. When those guys pass out tomorrow night, I am going to stumble drunkenly into him. Ned smiled at this thought. Time for a nightcap.

He walked a couple of blocks away to the Owl and Thistle and grabbed and an open seat at the end of the bar. The bartender approached him reproachfully. “What can I get you?”

“Double Canadian Mist on the rocks.”

“Sure, be right back.”

Yes, definitely time for a night cap.

PREFACEPROLOGUECHAPTER ONE

© 2013 – 2016, Darin Hartley

Advertisements