TWO BLACK CASES. Oh man what did I do? Boss is gonna kill me. You think I’m kidding? No he’ll have my fingers—
I know exactly what was in one of 'em. The cases I mean. I was transporting them someplace near a dock in New Orleans. Some punk kid on a skateboard knocked me back and a gust of some hellish wind picked up. I thought maybe the devil himself was gonna take me and when it finally passed the cases were gone.But the cases—right. Had about ten grand of good ol’ American dollars. The other case? Well hell if I knew. I couldn’t get through the lock. You’d think the money would be sealed up tighter than the other case, but no. Makes me wonder what could be in there. The strangest little thing happened. Trudy called me up and said someone put up two cases on craigslist an' I nearly jumped off the roof. 'Course I didn’t though, I ain't suicidal. The description said it to claim ‘em I needed to describe the contents? How the hell was I supposed to do that for the second one? Wonder if the guy cracked it open. If I couldn’t how could he? Maybe knowing what was inside one of ‘em would be enough. Maybe it was a trick question. Or maybe the guy wanted to know what was in the other case just as much as I did.