Restaurants lead to – murder!

I was driving, at night, and we were going downtown. I’m not sure downtown where, ‘cause it sure wasn’t Ottawa. But it was downtown to be sure. E was in the passenger seat. The street was a nice little street of cafes and restaurants, with a tree lined side, or maybe it was a full forest. I seem to remember horse headed iron railings with chain between them, like hitching posts.

We parked and then were in a restaurant with Bob from work. We were all sitting at a small square wooden table. There was a play of some sort on TV above us. It was a Greek classic of some sort, with two topless women in togas acting out the parts. When I looked back down there were two other women at the table with us. They were head down eating, and Bob was taking, but we had no food. I was surprised they were there since the whole place was empty and they could’ve sat at another table easily.

E and I weren’t speaking to each other, Bob was doing all the talking, and somehow he got us talking. I said something about fighting with her if she wanted. Then she laughed and I could feel the love between us and it was all okay. The women were gone, and we had food now, but we were disturbed by an explosion.

Bob and I leapt up and to the side. But now we were outside, looking up at a building. It was the 1890s. I was wearing a tweed overcoat (an Inverness) and carrying a black powder revolver of a long barrel military type. And Bob was dressed as a Victorian policeman. There was the smoke of an explosion coming out of the building on an upper floor, and I’m sure I saw someone throwing away a big (huge!) brass tube that had been used like an RPG to launch whatever it was.

Then Bob and I were entering an elegant apartment upstairs. He went over to a table covered in books, surrounded by other “official” types in frock coats. He held on to his “official police” credentials in case anyone asked why we were there. He was looking through the books. There was something to do with cryptology and there were two with Thomas the Tank engine on them. I tapped those for him to take (for A). The funny thing is that the covers were of the old 1920’s style, hardback cloth with the printed line art on the front. Like you sometimes see in the library.

I went over to see the body. There was someone leaned over working on the deceased. The fellow looked like Bob (again). I was now wearing a scarlet military jacket with blue facings and gold buttons and insignia. I was going to tell the man (coroner?) I was with military intelligence, when he interrupted me.

“Hello,” he said. “I’m with military intelligence. Oh really? So am I. I’m here to see the body. Oh really? So am I…”

Fade out, wake up.