Bloody Passage - Jack Higgins [47]
Angelo glanced sharply at him, real dislike in his eyes. "Why don't you try buttoning your lip for a change?"
"Oh, dear, have I upset him?"
You didn't have to be a genius to see in which area the basic tension lay between them, but in any event, I intervened quickly.
"Cut it out, you two, and that's an order." Angelo turned and went back to the truck angrily. I said to Langley, "Any more cracks like that out of you and you walk back. Understand?"
"Didn't mean any harm, old stick. Only a joke," he said, but there was more to it than that. It showed in his eyes.
We got back in the truck and drove back along the road past the turn-off to Gela. Zabia was another seven or eight miles further on. A sprawling sort of place with a population of three thousand. White houses dotted among the palm trees, a market in the main square.
Zingari's bar was on the waterfront of the small harbor. Cafe Zingari, the sign said above the door and certainly the tables under the awning at the front were crowded enough. He took the truck round to a walled courtyard at the rear and we were admitted by a private door.
Someone was playing a very bad piano and there was laughter faintly in the distance. The room he took us into was obviously his own and furnished handsomely enough as a cross between an office and a living room. There was a desk and two or three chairs, a daybed, Persian rugs on the floor.
There was a bottle of whiskey and several glasses standing on a Damascus tray on his desk as if by prior arrangement. He poured everybody a drink and took one himself.
"Finest Scotch, Mr. Grant. You see the label on the bottle?"
I didn't say anything and he smiled nervously and drank a little whiskey. "Right, now I show you a few of the women."
He opened a shutter in the far wall and I moved to join him. Through the slots of the blind on the other side I could see down into a bar that was literally full of whores of just about every size, shape and description. If they had one thing in common it was probably the fact that they'd all very definitely seen better days.
Langley said, "My God, you'll look like the Queen of the May when you get in among that little lot, Carter. Every soldier in the fort will be sniffing around as if you were a bitch in heat."
Angelo punched him in the face and Langley was good, I had to give him that, turning instantly so that the knuckles only grazed his cheek.
He pivoted on one hip and threw Angelo across the desk. Something went with a distinct crack, but Angelo came up on his feet and caught Langley with a good solid punch under the ribs that drove the breath from his body.
Langley grunted and swayed there, apparently defenseless and Angelo fell for it. He swung wildly, forgetting everything he'd ever been taught, and Langley grabbed for the right arm, pushed it round and up in a vicelike grip, running Angelo's face into the wall. Angelo went down and didn't get up again.
The whole affair from beginning to end had lasted no longer than five or six seconds. Too quick for me to interfere, but now I pushed Langley violently to one side and dropped to one knee beside Angelo.
He was groaning slightly, shaking his head, which didn't surprise me in the slightest as his nose was obviously very badly broken and there was a great deal of blood in evidence. Zingari passed me a jug of water and a napkin. I soaked it quickly and wiped away the blood. He opened his eyes almost instantly and looked up at me with a complete lack of comprehension. Something clicked and he tried to sit up. He cried out in pain and clutched at his left side. It was obvious at once that he had one or more ribs fractured.
I turned on Langley. "You stupid bastard. Do you realize what you've done?"
He wasn't smiling now, and when he laughed it was forced and hearty. "Come on, old stick. Nothing to write home about there. He's playing you up."
There were beads of sweat on Angelo's face and his mouth was clenched in agony. "Is there a doctor in Zabia?" I asked Zingari.
He nodded. "I'll send