Where the Wolf Lies by Tyler Flynn

Author:Tyler Flynn [Flynn, Tyler]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction
ISBN: 9780578472294
Publisher: Papillon Press
Published: 2019-05-06T16:00:00+00:00

25

London

Early-morning fog hung in the air and blanketed the small wharf. It encompassed everything, the cold air fighting the moist ground, old enemies sworn to battles since the dawn of time. The morning fog held a grayish light, fitting for the mundane work that lay ahead.

Igor pulled his jacket collar tighter to combat the damp cold. The ground was frosted, and the grass crunched under his boots as he made his way towards the river. The docks were quiet early in the morning, mostly because fishermen didn’t use this small bay, but rather a small number of boating aficionados—and on this particular morning, like some mornings past, Igor.

The sun was an hour from fully rising, but a soft orange glow came from the east over the river, lighting up the thick clouds that hung in the sky. In the distance to his left, much further down and across the river, Igor could see the high-rises and bustle of Canary Wharf.

He made his way from the flat parking lot where his car sat, separated from the water by only some thirty yards of grass. The wharf was surrounded by weathered brick apartment buildings, battered by time and the spray of the water, a certain yellow tinge clinging to them.

When Igor reached the river, he noticed it ran smooth. Only small splashes could be heard when a ripple hit the cement sidewalls of the yacht basin. Igor surveyed the river and at first could hardly see the yellow running lights of the boat as it silently idled towards Igor. The boat cut its motor, swung around in a wide, lazy about-to, and pulled up next to the cement wall where Igor stood watching.

“Morning,” said the man Igor had come to know only as Charlie.

He slid the silent, twenty-three-foot Century Center Console boat closer to the wall. He tossed a rope, and Igor secured it to a light post, strong enough, with its steel welding and stubborn age, to stop the boat from drifting away. This was their third time working together. The first two times were tests to see how far the courier would go and for what price.

“Easy sailing?” Igor feigned interest, blankly staring at his expensive courier.

“Water was smooth all the way from Corringham. Got these three boxes today from the port, eh? The usual one just isn’t cutting it anymore. Needed three this time?” Charlie asked, and grinned, revealing crooked teeth that were dark and yellow with age and too much booze. His skin was a weathered brown thanks to years spent on the river—over sixty, he’d once told Igor. The sun peeked from behind the horizon, shining off the water onto Charlie’s gray beard.

Igor wanted their transaction over with quickly and ignored the inquiry.

“You can just unload the three here and I’ll take care of them.” He paused and studied the two-by-three-foot-high wooden crates that bobbed on the bow of the boat.

“Aye, they’re quite heavy, mate.”

Charlie lifted a box, the strain visible on his face.

Igor grabbed the box from him and set it down on land.

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