The Final Cut

by Bark, Jasper

  “Now we look for an alleyway that no one can see.” Vince’s voice sounded deeper and even more musical, as though it was coming from some place outside of time. It felt as though Jimmy’d had this conversations hundreds of times before, but each time it had seemed completely new.

  “How do we do that?”

  “We’ve got to walk in a certain way, think in a certain way and approach it at just the right angle. We’ve got to let it know that we’re coming and expect it to be there when we turn into it, otherwise it won’t be there. And it’s never in the same place, it moves around. We’ve got to feel it out, let it call to us, sense it come into being just as we turn. Otherwise we’ll never find it.”

  Vince started down the street, leaning forward like a large cat on the prowl. He motioned for Jimmy to follow him. Jimmy tagged along behind, feeling a little self-conscious. Not a single person on the street noticed them, just as Vince had said.

  “You must copy how I move,” Vince told Jimmy, rocking back on his heels and swaying from side to side. “Do as I do and say what I say, or you’ll never find the alley.” Jimmy tried to copy Vince’s moves, following in his wake, feeling awkward as he tried to replicate the intricate little dance steps Vince was making. The laptop bag bumped against his hip as he moved.

  Vince began to chant. “Ouvrie, Ouvrie, Open for me ALL-EE-AY!”

  Jimmy followed suit, joining in with the chant. “Ouvrie, Ouvrie, Open for me ALL-EE-AY!” As he danced down one side of the high street and up the other, in pursuit of Vince and in search of the Tailor, Jimmy did feel like a child playing ‘follow my leader.’ He hadn’t lived long enough to have an old man’s wisdom, he hoped he would survive the city beneath the city.

  Vince tilted his head, as though he smelled something, and swung himself round on his right heel, dropping his shoulder as he did. He grabbed Jimmy’s shoulder, making him turn the same way. They veered towards the space between a card shop and a halal butcher at a wild angle.

  Jimmy saw the brick wall looming up in front of him. He fully expected to collide with it face first. But that never happened. One minute they were headed straight for a wall, the next they lurched into a dank little alley that wasn’t there before.

  The long narrow space smelled really old, not musty or rotten, just weighed down with antiquity. There was a strange flavour to the still, somnolent air, like an exotic spice that Jimmy had never tasted before.

  The wall they’d thrown themselves at lay between buildings that were two stories high. The ancient brick walls of the alley stretched up on either side of them till the sky was no more than a thin grey slit above them.

  “Why are the walls so high?” Jimmy said. Not the smartest question, but he was having trouble processing what just happened.

  “Because of their age, this place has been here a long, long time. Cities are always built on top of older cities. The longer a place has been here, the higher the walls around it.”

  The ground was covered with cobble stones that stretched all the way down to a small door in the distance. It was an old wooden door that opened in two places like a stable. Hanging over the door was a large gold sign. It showed a pair of scissors with a folding rule, encircled by laurel leaves.

  “What now?” said Jimmy.

  “Now you go knock and we say goodbye.”

  “Wait, you’re not coming with me?”

  “You paid me to find the Tailor, that’s what I’ve done. You didn’t pay me to get involved with Mr Isimud. No amount is high enough to make me to do that.”

  “But I haven’t got a clue what I’m doing.”

  “I know, and that tactic has served you pretty well so far. I have my own fate white boy and I’m no longer a part of yours.”

  With that Vince took a couple of steps backwards and disappeared. Jimmy had no choice but to continue down the alley to the door.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  The closer Jimmy got to the door, the older and more marked with age it seemed. He was afraid to knock in case he put his hand through it. He reached up to the top section and rapped tentatively. Nothing happened so he knocked a little louder.

  After a long pause he heard shuffling footsteps behind the door and the upper section finally opened. A short, elderly man with a long face, a little like a bloodhound’s, stood behind the door.

  “Can I help you?” said the man, in a gentle, almost feminine voice.

  “Erm . . . Is this where the Tailor is?”

  “Tailor?”

  “ . . . of the True Cloth.”

  “What does the sign say?”

  “The sign? Oh you mean this?” Jimmy pointed to the large metal scissors above the door. “Well it doesn’t say anything really, there are no words on it or anything.”

  The elderly man raised an eyebrow.

  “Oh wait, it’s like one of those medieval signs isn’t it? Right I get you. Look, I’ve not really started off on the right foot here. What I really meant to say was, is the Tailor available? The Tailor of the True Cloth, because I’d really like to see him.”

  “I’m afraid the Tailor doesn’t see anyone until the actual fitting. Have you brought the material?”

  “Material? I’ve brought some footage, if that’s what you mean.” Jimmy pulled the laptop out of his bag. “It’s on here. I was told to bring it to the Tailor. I’ll need to show you which file it is or I could put it on a memory stick for you if you like?”

  “That’s quite alright, the Tailor will know exactly what is to be cut and how to stitch it.”

  “Well I don’t want him to cut it, unless he’s like an editor or something, it’s just that I was told . . . I mean asked to . . . actually I’m not certain what I want him to do with it.”

  “That’s quite alright, everything will be undertaken just as it should be,” said the man taking the laptop from Jimmy. “Now if you’d be good enough to turn around slowly for me I’ll take your measurements.”

  “Don’t you need a measuring tape or something?” said Jimmy, executing a slow twirl for the man.

  “No, my eyes are more accurate than any ruler, and you dress to the left I see. Now, if you’ll be good enough to wait here a moment I’ll take the material to the Tailor and come back with a fee.”

  Jimmy waited in the alley outside the door for ten minutes until the man returned with a six figure fee that was almost the exact asking price of Sam’s apartment.

  “That’s a lot of money,” Jimmy said. “Just what is he going to do with the footage?”

  “As I said everything will be explained to you in good time. Simply return here in ten days’ time with the fee.”

  “It’s probably going to take me that long to raise it.”

  “That is most serendipitous then. I believe you can find your own way out.”

  “Wait, how will I find you again.”

  “Just come to the same part of town, we’ll be here.”

  “But what if I can’t . . . y’know, locate the alley or something?”

  “Then you won’t be able to collect your wares. The Tailor, on the other hand will still expect his fee, and will most certainly find a way to collect it. Good day.”

  With that the elderly man shut the upper section of the door and Jimmy heard his shuffling footsteps disappear into whatever lay beyond it.

  Jimmy turned from the door and within five steps was at the mouth of the alley. This left him very disoriented. He was sure the walk down the alley had been much longer. He looked back over his shoulder to check the distance but saw only the brick wall between the card shop and the butchers. All trace of the alley had gone.

  In a brief moment of panic, Jimmy wondered if Vince had drugged him? Was the smoke he’d made Jimmy inhale some sort of hallucinogen? Had he imagined the whole encounter? Was it all an elaborate con to steal his laptop?

  No, that was crazy, Vince had just gotten fifteen grand out of Jimmy. Why would he want to steal his laptop? Unless Vince was the one who killed Ashkan and his men a
nd he needed to retrieve the laptop. That didn’t make any sense though. Vince could have just killed him and taken the laptop. Why set up such an elaborate prank?

  Jimmy was just getting paranoid, and who could blame him after everything he’d been through. Even still he couldn’t afford to lose it, not when he was so close. He’d found the Tailor and given him the footage, just as Melissa had instructed. He wasn’t going to fuck up this time. He really was coming back for her, just as he promised.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  Ten days later, Jimmy felt just as awkward on the streets of Deptford. It wasn’t that he still thought the place a dump, with its cheesy discount stores and its raucous collection of winos. It was more that he was carrying a briefcase containing hundreds of thousands of pounds, from the sale of Sam’s apartment. The estate agent had advised him to hold out for a higher price, but Jimmy had needed a quick sale, so he’d settled.

  Without Vince, Jimmy wasn’t sure he could find the alley again. He couldn’t do any of that voodoo stuff that Vince had done, drawing on the ground in flour and ash. He didn’t have any of that weird leaf smoke to inhale either. He was just going to have to wing it and hope he could remember enough to get back to the Tailor.

  Jimmy moved up the high street to the spot where he last found the alley, doing his best to replicate what Vince had done, dancing in a half-hearted manner. He chanted:

  “Ouvrie, Ouvrie, Open for me ALL-EE-AY!” under his breath.

  The closer he got to the spot, the more self-conscious Jimmy became. He didn’t want to draw attention to himself. He knew he looked ridiculous skipping down the street trying to remember all the moves Vince had thrown. He felt like an embarrassing uncle getting up to dance at a teenage party.

  Finally Jimmy reached the spot between the card shop and the Halal Butcher. He swung round on his heel, with his right shoulder down, and very nearly knocked his teeth out on the brick wall. It was only because he panicked and put his hand up at the last minute, that he didn’t do himself a real injury.

  Jimmy stepped back from the wall, danced up the street, turned round and headed back to the spot. The second time he lunged at it he smacked his shoulder into the wall, sending a jarring pain down his arm and along the top of his back.

  The third time he tried, he lost his balance and ended up on all fours with his face pressed against the brick wall, in the same spot where a dog had relieved itself. Jimmy stood and used a tissue to wipe his cheek.

  Three guys came out of the Halal Butchers to see what Jimmy was playing at. They stood by the door with their arms crossed and their feet apart, weighing Jimmy up with guarded but hostile expressions. Jimmy grabbed his briefcase and started walking down the street towards the station.

  He obviously wasn’t going to find the entrance to the alley in that spot again. Hopefully it would appear to him somewhere else on the High Street, or he’d have to start looking further abroad.

  Jimmy’s cheeks were burning with shame. He felt exposed; not only by his strange behaviour, but also by the huge amount of money he was carrying. He thought every eye would be on him for his ridiculous display, but the reverse was the case. People were making a studied effort to ignore him. It struck Jimmy that this might be the answer.

  Someone who’s getting noticed too much is never going to slip quietly into an alley few people know exists. The alley, or its inhabitants, take great care to avoid attention. To slip into the alley Jimmy would have to make himself equally invisible and unnoticed. This must have been what Vince meant when he said you had to approach it in the right way.

  The way people avoided his eye made Jimmy realise Vince’s chants and movements were a way of diverting other people’s attention, as much as willing the alley into being. In a city like London, especially in an area like Deptford, people went out of their way not to notice other people, especially if they were acting in a strange or embarrassing way.

  Jimmy started to rock back and forth on his heels as he walked, just as Vince had shown him, stopping every now and then to alter his direction or take a few steps backwards for no apparent reason. He pictured the cobbled stones of the alley and started to walk as though they were underfoot. He pictured the alley and listed every detail he could recall under his breath, remembering the rhythms Vince had used when he chanted.

  Jimmy spotted a small Chinese supermarket up ahead, right next to a charity shop and he knew that, if he played things right, he would find the alley there. It was an intuitive, almost physical knowledge that was also a warning. If he played things wrong, he would never find the alley again and all his efforts would be in vain.

  As Jimmy passed the Chinese supermarket his eyes kept darting left, hoping to see the alley, but there was no sign of it. He knew he would have to make a leap of faith and just walk right into it, but in the right way and at the right angle.

  As he passed the mini supermarket Jimmy swivelled round on his left heel and dived at the wall between the two shops. To his alarm, he realised his right shoulder was too high and too far forwards and he may not have time to fix it. He dropped the shoulder and lunged at the painted bricks between the two shops.

  To his delight Jimmy found himself standing on the cobbled stones of the alley.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  The ancient walls sloped upwards on either side of Jimmy. Ahead lay the wooden door and the metal sign. The air tasted more exotic than he remembered, but it didn’t smell as old. Jimmy had the sense of having crossed a threshold. He’d entered the city beneath the city of his own volition. There was no going back. He’d committed himself to a course of action and had to accept whatever came after this.

  The sound of his feet on the cobblestones sounded muted the closer he got to the door, as though coming from a long way away. He lifted his hand to knock but the top section was opened before he could.

  The short elderly man peered out at him. “We’ve been expecting you for a while now,” he said.

  “Yeah, I err, had a bit of trouble finding the place again.”

  “We’d almost given up on seeing you.”

  “You’re not the easiest place to find.”

  “There are many good reasons for that.”

  The elderly man opened the rest of the door and motioned, with a gracious bow, for Jimmy to come in. Jimmy stepped into a small antechamber with no windows, lit by a single gas lamp on a wooden countertop. Lengths of cloth and baskets of wool sat against the opposite wall. Several of the baskets were moving. Maybe there were mice or rats in them, or something Jimmy didn’t want to know about.

  “If you’d be good enough to wait here,” said the elderly man, “I’ll tell the Tailor you’ve arrived.”

  He went through a door at the far side of the antechamber and closed it behind him. Jimmy heard muffled voices, and then the elderly man’s shuffling footsteps.

  “Please come inside,” said the elderly man, popping his head around the door. “The Tailor will see you now.”

  The room beyond could not have been more of a contrast. It was expansive and filled with light from a large window that took up most of the ceiling. There was a huge wooden bench in the centre of the room made from delicately carved mahogany.

  Half of the bench top was covered with crushed red velvet. Laid out on the velvet were more blades and cutting implements than Jimmy knew existed, neatly displayed in elaborate leather belts. Their designs were so strange he could only guess at what half of them did.

  Against the long wall opposite, was a row of tailor’s dummies. Each one a different size, resembling every human body imaginable. Several resembled no human body Jimmy could imagine.

  As interesting as the setting was, the room was dominated by a tall, thin man with a long, angular face that reminded Jimmy of a crescent moon. His thick moustache and pointy goatee only added to this impression. He had blazing brown eyes that made Jimmy hesitant to meet his gaze. His charcoal suit was of such a faultless cut, it seemed to tailor the very light that fell on it, so as to
appear more perfect. The effect was mesmerising.

  Next to the Tailor was one of his dummies. This one was covered with a cloth. Jimmy’s heart began to beat faster the minute he spotted it. He couldn’t believe the anticipation he felt.

  “Are you the err, the Tailor of the True Cloth?” Jimmy said.

  The Tailor gave a short, formal nod.

  “I’m Ji . . . ”

  The Tailor held up his hand to silence Jimmy. “No names please, it makes our business so much easier.”

  “Do you really have the kind of mad skills they say you have?”

  The Tailor’s brow furrowed with slight irritation. “Why on earth would you go to such lengths to find me, and pay so much for my services if you thought I didn’t?”

  “Right, no, sorry, I wasn’t trying to be rude. It’s just all a bit much to take in, you know?”

  Jimmy pointed to the covered dummy. “Is that . . . my God, did you really . . . have you made a suit out of the footage I brought you? For real?”

  “No, I haven’t made a suit, I’ve made a robe. The garment must suit the material from which it’s fashioned. A robe is more fitting to its ancient origins.”

  “Ancient origins? It’s a snuff movie, it can’t be more than two years old.”

  The Tailor raised an eyebrow in disbelief. “A snuff movie? You think that’s what you brought me?”

  “Well yeah, isn’t it?”

  The Tailor let out a short sigh and put his hand to his forehead. He closed his eyes for a moment as though he was marshalling the patience to deal with Jimmy’s ignorance. Jimmy did not know how to respond.

  “It is most certainly not a snuff movie. It’s something far more deadly than you obviously realise. I see now it was a mistake to have made this for you and for that reason I cannot allow you to take it.”

  “What?! Now wait a minute, you have no idea what I’ve been through to get this to you.”

  “I can guess.”

  Jimmy held up the briefcase. “I brought a small fortune. Do you know how difficult it was to get the bank to hand this over in cash?”