Now where had that come from?
The assassin smiled. He felt for his pouch. His fingers closed on something hard.
The man with the knife stood crouching, craning his neck.
“Who’s that? What do you want?”
The assassin didn’t move.
A breeze caught the tattered curtain at the window and it flapped. The man with the knife wheeled round, then back again. He peered into the dark.
He craned his neck. Very slowly he turned his head.
He was trying to hear.
The assassin waited. Watching.
The man’s head moved through the midway point of its turn.
The assassin flicked his wrist and the cord snaked out. He plucked it back with a fierce grunt and the man with the knife was jerked off balance, scrabbling with both hands at his neck.
The assassin gave the cord another savage tug.
The man started sawing at the air, searching to cut the cord. The assassin stepped out of the shadows and pushed him down. He caught the knife-wrist and wedged his thumb between the tendons: the knife clattered to the floor as the hand spasmed open.
The assassin was astride him now. He put a hand to his belt and slid out a wooden spoon.
The man on the floor was choking.
The assassin slackened the cord for an instant. His victim gave a shuddering gasp, but it was a false respite. The assassin slipped the wooden spoon beneath the cord and began to twist it round.
[ 54 ]
A fat man, eager for sleep, felt himself rolled off the bed and hit the ground. He opened his eyes and saw a pair of women’s feet.
“All right, petal? Here’s your kit. Shove it on, love, I’m done. Go on.”
The fat man scrambled blearily into his robes. Get out, he thought. Five on the table, he’d be gone before she knew.
The woman watched him scurry through the door.
She was done for the night. Done with outside business, anyhow. No one would come now.
Upstairs would know the final customer had left. She was left with one more trick to turn, the worst.
Carrying her lamp she climbed the stairs. At the top she paused, hearing nothing.
Very slowly she pushed the door ajar. The room smelt terrible.
Silently she put in her head. She stretched out her hand, carrying the little lamp, and the shadows started to flicker round the room.
Months ago, the woman had lost her faith in God. She had begged, she had prayed, she had pleaded with Him night after night, and every dawn had brought the same answer. So she cursed him. Nothing changed. In the end, she had forgotten Him.
But what she saw now was like a revelation.
“Thank God,” she said.
