He was sitting quietly, waiting to be questioned about what he saw.
Once he’d seen it, he knew he had to report it. He wished he hadn’t seen anything. He wished he hadn’t been there when the meeting took place. It was only by accident that he was in the toilet cubicle when it happened. He hadn’t bothered to lock the door, that’s why the indicator showed vacant. They didn’t bother to check. It wasn’t much of a meeting. The whole thing took about a minute. Two clear plastic bags full of powder going one way, and a fat envelope going the other. All he saw through the crack of the door was two men. He couldn’t see their faces, just arms making the exchange. The only thing he could tell them was that one of them had an anchor tattooed on his arm.
He thought back to that moment, seeing the tattoo. Popeye the Sailor Man flashed through his mind, from comic books when he was a kid. They’d want to know about that! Just that tiny bit of information could help the police crack the case. But, of course, these people were ruthless. If they knew he was talking to the police, he’d be dead. One thing he knew about the bosses in the illicit drug trade, was that they would stop at nothing to protect their operation. There was so much money involved that they would make anyone who knew too much simply disappear, forever! If he made a statement, they would have to protect him as an unnamed witness.
He seemed to have been in the room a long time, since being told that a detective would be along soon. He was becoming more and more anxious as the minutes ticked by. He could hear his heart thumping. Was he doing the right thing?
The door opened and a man entered. Pulling up a chair, he smiled as he put paperwork down in front of him. He pushed up his sleeves and began shuffling papers around.
That’s when the other caught sight of it.
Popeye!