As the docker sat down on the bench, Rosetta stuck an elbow
in his throat and rammed her fist between his legs. Gasping for breath with
vomit over his donkey jacket, the purple-faced man watched terrified as Rosetta
pulled a Frosolone flick-knife from her handbag and held the pointed blade near
his eye.
“You are a Red, you bastard,” Rosetta whispered. “I can smell them miles away.
I should kill you; you have come to spy on us."
http://www.amazon.co.uk/Colour-Smoke-London-Sowerbutt-Novels-ebook-x/dp/B00RYR8BWG
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