Death Trap by Charles Whiting

Author:Charles Whiting
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-04-15T00:00:00+00:00

Six

‘Speak… speak now!’ the cop called Dusko cried, as his companion, another huge man, raised the broom once more and whacked it across the bucket which they had placed over Thirk’s head. He reeled, the blood spurting from his nose and ears once again and would have fallen from the chair if his captors had not tied him to it.

It had seemed the simplest idea of all to find a ship when he had clambered ashore at the small coastal town after robbing the Swordfish’s strongbox. He had bought himself some dry clothes from the usual pawnshops that lined the front in places frequented by sailors. Then he had gone deeper into the old town, heavy with the odour of garlic, strong Macedonian black tobacco and ancient lecheries. The brothel was the place and there was usually one at least in such places, he had told himself, and he had been right. Within ten minutes he had come across one and had sauntered inside, knowing that the gold sovereigns he had stolen together with the ‘readies’ would get him anything he wanted. After all, the ‘Horsemen of St George’, as the British sovereigns were called, were a universal currency throughout the Middle East and Mediterranean.

‘Bit rundown even for a knockin’ shop,’ he had said to himself, as he had entered. It was indeed. The walls were unpainted and peeling. There were not even the usual pornographic pictures adorning them. But the state of the place didn’t worry him. It would do. He’d get himself a woman for the night and then set about finding someone who could get him a ship to make his escape. ‘You’ve got the readies now, Charlie old son,’ he had told himself happily as the madam had approached him, waving her pudgy be-ringed hands, crying, ‘Pivo… birra… beer… Bier!’

‘Yer,’ he had answered easily. ‘Get me a pint of wallop, you old cow.’

She had returned with a glass and then made it quite clear that she was expecting him to order something else other than the weak Yugoslavian beer. She pointed to the row of women squatting on the hard-backed chairs along the opposite wall, clad only in their shifts, their legs spread so that the customers could see what they had to offer, and had made an explicit gesture with her finger. ‘You want?’ she had asked.

Thirk hadn’t been impressed. ‘Look poxed-up to me,’ he had told himself, ‘but I need a kip for the night and hoors never ask about papers and the like.’ So he had taken a swig of the weak beer and walked along the line of bored whores, most of whom looked half asleep, as they smoked in silence, hardly even venturing one of those fake smiles that whores put on when they smell money.

He had picked one who looked fairly clean and was young, though she did have a slight squint, but as he said to himself, ‘Yer’ll never know in the darkness.’ She had taken him up to

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.