Thursday, 9 March 2017

Room Service

For audio click here 
The sun had just about given up trying to warm the grey, greatcoat afternoon and darkness was reclaiming its territory. The tap on the door was just enough to wake Cam from his snooze. He pulled his boxers up from his knees, checked that he’d closed the porn site on his computer and pulled on a hoodie as he wandered over to the door. 
“Who is it?” 
“Policie!”
Cam didn't speak much Slovak, but he spoke enough to know he didn't like the sound of that. 
The door creaked as it opened to reveal two ugly brutes standing there. 
 “Where is it?” The two men said in unison. 
“You’re not the police,” Cam said. 
Tweedledum pushed past him and walked into the room.  Cam’s Oi didn't stop him. Tweedledee stood in the doorway arms crossed, legs spread. 
“Where is it?” Dee said. 
“It’s not here.” 
Dum picked up Cam's suitcase with one hand and emptied the contents all over the floor. He then did the same with the laptop bag. His search for the needle in a haystack comprised of kicking Cam's stuff to all corners of the room. 
“I said, I don’t have it,” Cam said, but the brute continued his search. 
“Where is it?” Dee repeated. 
Cam ignored him. He was busy wondering if he could get through his spread legs and skedaddle. But he was dressed only in a hoodie and boxer shorts. He'd freeze to death before they caught him or be beaten to death before he froze. Either way staying put seemed more sensible.
Dum started sieving through the Cam’s things with his hands, like a gold prospector in a river. Cam watched on. He opened the cupboard doors and checked the safe.
“It's not here,” Dum said, looking at Dee. 
Dee grabbed Cam hauling him up so that they were eye to eye.
“Where the fuck is it?”
Cam stayed shtum.
“What did you do with it?” 
Dee dropped him. Cam hit the ground with a bump. 
 “I mailed it. I knew you two were coming,” Cam sat on the floor rubbing the base of his spine. 
“We’ll be back,” the two thugs slammed the door.
“Idiots,” Cam said, and took out the memory stick from the one place they'd forgotten to look, the pocket of his hoodie. 
Just then there was a tap on the door.

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