The Anatomist (Maya Mystery Book 2) by Noah Alexander

Author:Noah Alexander [Alexander, Noah]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-06-18T22:00:00+00:00

14

The Indian Pub

Ernst Wilhelm bought himself a mug of ale and found a dark table in a corner of the pub. He was dressed in a dirty cotton shirt and patched trousers which he had traded from the sweeper of his apartment for 2 cowries. His garments were now in a state that even the sweeper would refuse to wear them. Ernst made a mental note to put them in the laundry when he got time, their smell had become obnoxious enough to make him noticeable even in the squalid pubs that he had bought them for. That wasn't something he could afford if he was to be successful in his endeavor. He had learned during the last week that his job was hard enough without the smell. It was paramount to blend in with the crowd if he had to stand any chance of finding the bone thief.

Ernst adjusted his flat cap and hid his service leather boots in the shadows. He had forgotten to change his shoes and if anybody around got a sniff that he was a High Guard he wouldn't enjoy the effect. Most men around were criminals, petty thieves, burglars, murderers, and rapists who would enjoy nothing more than slitting the throat of a Peacock for dinner. Ernst took a sip from the mug and tried to take in his surroundings. The place was more decrepit than the other dozen places that he had ventured during the past week. Pigs and cows ruminated in street outside the door and drunken men thrown out after exhausting their pockets, loitered on the road slinging profanities at the passersby. Inside the pub, which smelled strongly of piss, an overweight barmaid with a scowl on her face scurried between tables collecting coins and pouring liquor in empty glasses. A great din hung about the place, people played cards, sung songs, some discussed their family problems crying and laughing in rapid succession and others, lonely like him, occupied tables in the corner trying to drown grief in a drink. Ernst tried to focus, he was here to eavesdrop on people. Looking for some clue about a short man with a scar on his face who played Three Kings and bet stolen fingers. But it was hard. After spending more than half a dozen nights doing just that (this was his 13th pub), the exercise felt ridiculously futile.

He had begun to harbor the feeling that Odoi had lied, perhaps that story about the pub had been made up. A careful tale crafted solely to keep him occupied as the two weeks given to him by the director passed. There could be a possibility that Odoi was actually acting on the orders of the director. Ernst had begun to suspect that assigning him to this case and giving him so little time to find the thief was all a ploy to throw him out of the job. Perhaps, Horace Ibrahim did not like him and just wanted to get rid of him. There was no way to find out, not before the two weeks passed anyway.

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