CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
The evening drew in, and the sun disappeared below the horizon, leaving a sky that looked as if it was on fire, with the dark oranges and reds that bled across the heavens. Streaks of dark cloud cut across the view, hiding the last remnants of the sun. The bar was quiet, just how he liked it. It was a spot he could come and gather his thoughts.
The place was old, dating back to before Prohibition. The booths were heavy oak with dark green leather padding, the tables were supported by shining brass pillars, and the floor was tiled. The bar ran the breadth of the room with tall stools lining its counter, ready to house the next happy customer. Tooms loved this place; it was his retreat, so he had suggested this venue for a meeting. As he walked in, he was greeted with
