Throw Him Away and Get a New One

“You’re wasting your time, Winthrop. I’ve no money. So you may as well clear off and find someone else to scam. You snake oil salesman! I want nothing from you. Do you hear? Nothing!”

“Really, Mr Highsmith?” From his jacket pocket, Winthrop produced a small bottle of whisky. If he didn’t have Angus’s complete attention before, he did now. “I think you’ll find this tastes much nicer than drain cleaner.”

Angus wanted the whisky. If he wasn’t weak with hunger, he’d have attacked Winthrop to get it.

Winthrop’s smile said now I’ve got you. “You can have this one now and the one in my other pocket when you’ve told me how you’ve come to be sitting in a cheap hotel planning to dissolve your innards with caustic soda.”

“Why do you care?”

“What does it matter, Mr Highsmith? So long as you get your whisky?”





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