The Devil's Half Mile_A Novel by Paddy Hirsch

Author:Paddy Hirsch [Hirsch, Paddy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 1786493500
Amazon: B0756FKST5
Publisher: Forge Books
Published: 2018-06-05T00:00:00+00:00

TWENTY-FIVE

The Counting House was closed, its windows dark. Lars tapped gently on the door, and after a few moments a small viewing hatch snapped open. There was a brief pause, followed by the sound of bolts being drawn, and the door opened just enough to let them slip inside.

The tall bald man with the scarred skull greeted Lars like an old friend. He nodded to Justy. “If I’d known you were shipmates with this big damber, I’d maybe have given you them papers for nowt.”

Justy smiled. “Just as well for your boy, then. How come you know each other?”

“You’re rookin’ me, aren’t ye? Every publican in the town knows this cove.”

Lars looked uncomfortable. “Not every publican.”

The barman laughed. “Near as dammit. Come on and have a drink.”

He lit candles at each end of the bar. The scar on his head looked deep and brutal in the light. “What’s it to be?”

“Ale,” said Lars.

“Water,” said Justy.

The man pushed a bottle at Lars and filled a tankard from a barrel behind the bar for Justy. The water was cool and tasted slightly mossy.

“Thanks. What’s your name, by the way?”

“Rafe Durcan. Them’s are my friends call me Dirk.”

He pointed them to the opposite corner of the tavern.

“You can talk over there. There’ll be no one else in tonight.”

“Well, there might be one more,” Lars said. He glanced at Justy. “I sent the lad to ask after Kerry.”

Justy felt a stab of resentment. “Why did you do that?”

“Because she asked. And I can tell by the look on your face that we’re not done for tonight. I figure the more heads we have together on this the better.”

Justy shrugged. They settled in the corner. Lars took a long drink from his bottle.

There was a soft knock at the door. Dirk went to open the hatch and, after a brief conversation, drew the bolts. Kerry slipped past him to where Justy and Lars sat.

She slid onto the bench beside Lars. Her eyes were large and bright in the candlelight. She reached over the table and touched Justy’s hand. “Sandy told me about Carrots. The poor clunch. He was a starchy wee bounce, but no one deserves that.”

Justy’s throat was tight. His tongue felt as though it were made of lead. He nodded and looked down. She pulled her hand away.

“Where’s Sandy now?” Lars asked

“Back at my cousin’s house, being stuffed full of leftovers. One of the cooks took a shine to him. He said he’d be away back to the ship, after.”

Lars nodded. “He’s a good lad.”

Kerry hadn’t taken her eyes off Justy. “It’s been a long night for you. Are you all right?”

He coughed out a dry laugh. “If being caught in a nightmare is all right. I talk to Drummond about my father and he’s killed. Then Cantillon. I find out my father was up to his ears in some filthy swindle before he died, and now it turns out my uncle’s involved as well.”

She frowned. “How do you mean?”

“I dug up some

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