Tiny beads of blood stood out as milestones along the hair’s-breadth trail across the white throat. A feather’s-weight more pressure on the sharp blade and a red gush would herald the severing of the windpipe and the carotid artery and the rapid demise of the scrawny East Ender imprisoned in Sowerbutt’s strong arms.
Sowerbutt watched the progression of the honed length of steel from left to right. He had jettisoned many things and many people in his life of thirty-something years, but he was never without his trusty girl guide clasp-knife. The knife had escaped countless searches to the fatal cost of some of the searchers. Sowerbutt had palmed it, hidden it, secreted it and pocketed it, but his faithful servant of steel had never once been accused of murder and mayhem.
“Nero, Nero,” the voice whispered into the ear of the trembling man. “We’re the Family, one big happy Family. We all look after, trust and protect each other. You look after Shiny, you watch his back. Shiny looks after you. That’s why we are successful and that’s why we all stay safe and sound and sleep easy at night. Out of trouble and away from the long crooked arm of what passes for the law.
“You took your eyes off dear Shiny, didn’t you? You allowed a risk to raise its big ugly head. What do I always say about risks? We never take risks, we eliminate them.
“Now Shiny’s dead, stretched out like a prize side of meat from Smithfield, and we’re up to our necks in the proverbial.”
The thin red line drawn with surgical precision across Nero’s throat smarted but little more. But the small-time thief, scared out of his wits, suddenly collapsed as a dead weight. Sowerbutt prided himself on his lightning reactions, his right hand flashing out the way to avoid a second fatality.
A long sigh escaped from the scrawny man’s His face was whiter than the streets of French surrender flags that welcomed the Blitzkrieg on its relentless progression across northern France in recent weeks.
“I’ll change, Mr Sorbay, I promise. I’m gutted about poor Shiny, I thought he was safe going back to his room and I could take a quick break,” Nero wheezed. amazon.co.uk/Colour-Lemon-Surrender-1940-ebook/dp/B008USR7FA
Sowerbutt watched the progression of the honed length of steel from left to right. He had jettisoned many things and many people in his life of thirty-something years, but he was never without his trusty girl guide clasp-knife. The knife had escaped countless searches to the fatal cost of some of the searchers. Sowerbutt had palmed it, hidden it, secreted it and pocketed it, but his faithful servant of steel had never once been accused of murder and mayhem.
“Nero, Nero,” the voice whispered into the ear of the trembling man. “We’re the Family, one big happy Family. We all look after, trust and protect each other. You look after Shiny, you watch his back. Shiny looks after you. That’s why we are successful and that’s why we all stay safe and sound and sleep easy at night. Out of trouble and away from the long crooked arm of what passes for the law.
“You took your eyes off dear Shiny, didn’t you? You allowed a risk to raise its big ugly head. What do I always say about risks? We never take risks, we eliminate them.
“Now Shiny’s dead, stretched out like a prize side of meat from Smithfield, and we’re up to our necks in the proverbial.”
The thin red line drawn with surgical precision across Nero’s throat smarted but little more. But the small-time thief, scared out of his wits, suddenly collapsed as a dead weight. Sowerbutt prided himself on his lightning reactions, his right hand flashing out the way to avoid a second fatality.
A long sigh escaped from the scrawny man’s His face was whiter than the streets of French surrender flags that welcomed the Blitzkrieg on its relentless progression across northern France in recent weeks.
“I’ll change, Mr Sorbay, I promise. I’m gutted about poor Shiny, I thought he was safe going back to his room and I could take a quick break,” Nero wheezed. amazon.co.uk/Colour-Lemon-Surrender-1940-ebook/dp/B008USR7FA
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