To Tell the Truth
“He drew on the last of his cigarette and flicked it into the harbour.He bit the inside of his jaw. What the hell was he playing at? But even though he cursed himself, he felt a surge of adrenaline at the snap decision he’d made. Six months ago, no, six days ago, he would never have done anything like this. But something had changed in him, as though he’d lost the iron self control that had been the very centre of his life. He felt beads of nervous sweat under his arms at what he was about to do.... He dialled the number.‘I am here,’ he said. ‘I didn’t take the boat. Come. Meet me at the little bar on the harbour.’ He lit another cigarette and ordered a coffee and a cognac.Besmir dialled another number and spoke to Elira. He told her he would not be taking the boat to Spain tonight as planned, and that he’d met a young lady. He was going to relax for the night. He smiled to himself when Elira made a dirty remark. He was a good liar. She said that Leka had been phoned from Morocco and that he was pleased Besmir had made the delivery.MoreLess
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