Uncle Jam
The older man sat at a corner table in the quiet restaurant, his hands clasped tightly around a coffee cup that had long gone cold. Nervous energy coursed through him, making his foot tap against the polished wooden floor. A few days ago, he'd received an unexpected phone call from someone claiming to be an investigator looking into the death of his old friend, Edward. The news had shocked him—Edward's death was an old wound that he'd long tried to bury.
The investigator had pressed him for details, and Sam had shared everything he could recall or had been told about by Edward. Of course he'd never met Edward's wife or son because they'd been long gone when Edward bacame his neighbour, but the man had shared everything with him. And so, he told the investigator everything he knew. Or rather, everything he should know only. There was one thing that he had not mentioned...