A BRIDGE TOO FAR (genre/crimefiction)
By Neel Anil Panicker
Waiting is something Freddie D’ Costa detested like the plague.
Killing time___that was not his forte.
He would rather kill.
And thoughts of murder were racing through his mind as he waited and peeped outside from his 12th floor hotel balcony.
His eyes were fixed on the ocean blue waters that loomed ahead; on the bridge that raised itself to a half salute.
Inhaling deep into his Marlboro, his hawkish eyes studied the waterscape all around it, at the mass of humanity that was crawling their way towards the pier, the flotsam and jetsum that wafted in and out of Harry’s Harbour every single hour of the day.
His eyes caught a hand, a brown weather beaten leather bag that moved in sync with other bodily contours.
He raised his vision slightly, and saw the face that connected the hand.
Instantaneously, an agony dripping howl escaped his throat.
‘Damn’t! I’d warned them not to send stupid Charlie.’
His eyes darted helter skelter as he watched with increasing exasperation the silhouette of the diminutive young man get closer and closer.
At the instant, from the corner of his eyes, he spotted Customs Inspector David Storm loom into view from the northern periphery, taking purposeful strides towards bay area.
‘The gold’s gone,’ he half howled.
Below him, the moon’s beams caught his exasperated visage forming dysfunctional patterns as the waters heaved and sighed much like young lovers on exploratory missions at the dead of the night.
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