
Calibre
Серия: Inspector Brant, книга 6
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Shit from Shinola. You have to hand it to the goddamn Yanks, they have great verbals, man. I love the way they cuss.
I killed my first last Tuesday, I can’t believe it was so easy. Remorse? Not a fuckin’ trace. Only sorry I didn’t do it sooner.
I’m forty-four years old, and I guess I’m what you’d call a late starter. Or as them Yanks have it, a late bloomer. Thirty years I could have been mowing down the fucks and what was I doing?
Working.
A working stiff.
I think it was Bob Geldof who said work was the biggest con of all. I listen to The Rats with ‘I Don’t Like Mondays’ and I’ve got my soundtrack down. They nailed it. The silicon chip inside my head just switched to overload.
Been a long time coming.
My old man, Anthony Crew, worked in an asbestos factory all his life. The last ten years he spent coughing up blood and gook till his eyes bulged. His employers, did they cover the hospital bills? They did fuck-all.
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