Intruders by E.C. Scullion

Author:E.C. Scullion [Scullion, E.C.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-01-06T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 17

The beast of a man was chewing open-mouthed on a chivito – the Uruguayan take on a burger – consisting of four ounces of beef, sliced hard-boiled eggs, ham, tomatoes, cheese, mayonnaise and olives all piled up and oozing between two sides of a white sesame bun. Juices from the sandwich ran down his chin. He would occasionally wipe them away with the back of his hand. He had black curly hair, shaggy to shoulder level and long stubble covering his chin, not quite yet a beard. Heavy black brows to rival Denham’s. He wore a white shirt, open collar, chinos and loafers, no socks. In the ten minutes Tom had been sat opposite him at the table, the beast hadn’t uttered a word.

Tom had called Denham. He didn’t bother mentioning the business with Anil and the sinkhole, aware now that Denham was briefed on everything anyway, courtesy of Ray. So he had got down to business, kept it simple. What they required was a power cut: for the floodlights of Las Colinas to go dark long enough that they could crawl through the pipe and get inside the compound, and to get out again with the contents of the safe.

‘You didn’t find a better way in?’ Denham had asked, sounding incredulous.

‘Every vehicle into Las Colinas is searched on entry and exit, unless you are a resident.’

‘So make friends with a resident.’

‘You want a trail leading back to your client or not?’ Capricorn, whoever he was. ‘Who was it who found us Manuela? Maybe I could speak to them?’

Denham had given him the address of the chiviteria in the Tres Cruces neighbourhood, not far from Montevideo’s central bus terminal. Instructed him to go alone. Tom had arrived early to find a black and white Boston Terrier tethered on the street outside the door, every now and then letting out a high-pitched whine, shifting its front paws side to side, restless for the presence of its master. Inside, the hulk of a man now sat on the other side of the table, back to the wall, was the restaurant’s sole customer. Tom had ordered a cola and sat down. There were no pleasantries.

In the silence, he played through his list of questions in his mind. Added one about how Albert Denham had come to have contacts in even the darkest corners of Uruguay. Or perhaps Denham was doing as he was told by the client, Solomon Capricorn.

‘Habla espanol?’ the man grunted out of the blue, bits of the sandwich still stuck between his teeth.

‘Si,’ Tom replied, taking it that his burly companion did not speak any English.

‘Are you British?’ the man then asked, in English, throwing Tom off guard.

‘Yes.’

‘I despise the fucking British,’ the man continued in English. ‘My brother died on Las Malvinas,’ he added, using the Argentinian word for the Falkland Islands.

Tom’s heartbeat quickened. ‘You’re from Argentina.’

The beast pushed the last bite of sandwich into his mouth, packing his cheeks.

‘I’m sorry about your brother,’ Tom said.

‘I’m not. He was the son of my father’s whore.

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.