The World in My Pocket

Начало книги

Four men sat around a table on which were scattered playing cards, poker chips, a couple of loaded ashtrays, glasses and a bottle of whisky.

The room was in semi-darkness except for a green, shaded light that fell directly on the table. A smoke haze hung overhead and spread out, drifting away into the shadows. Morgan, a big man with cold, restless eyes and a thin mouth, laid down four kings and sat back, drumming gently with his fingertips on the table.

There was a pause, then with grunts of disgust the other three men threw in their cards.

Gypo, born Giuseppe Mandini, a fat ball of a man with black curly hair, going grey at the temples, a swarthy complexion and a small beaky nose, flicked his chips across the table to Morgan and grinned ruefully.

‘That cleans me,’ he said. ‘What luck! Nothing better than a nine all the evening!’

Ed Bleck fingered his neat stack of chips, removed four of them and pushed them over to Morgan. He was tall, fair and heavily sunburned. He had a vicious handsomeness that appealed to women but made men wary. He wore a neatly pressed grey flannel suit and his tie was hand painted: yellow horseshoes on a bottle-green background. Of the four men, he was the best dressed.

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