The Murder Pit. Mick Finlay
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put the tankard down, slipped his good hand inside his overcoat, and brought out a truncheon, its tip black with lead.
‘Hold on, mate,’ I said, backing away. ‘No need for—’
He belted me hard on my hand before I could finish. I cursed, the temper rising in me, and was about to swing at him when he took another shot, this time at my knee. I collapsed on the floor in the ash and the spilt beer, the pain running like a wave through my body. And just as my head hit the ground he landed his boot in my belly. A cheer rang out, drowning the groan as was forced out of me. I heaved; I couldn’t catch my breath.
‘Oi!’ cried the landlady. ‘That’s enough, Godwin Ockwell. You sit down.’
‘Give him another!’ barked Skulky.
The old fellows playing dominoes cackled.
I was gasping and choking, bent in two on the stinking floor, clutching my belly as the good folk of Catford laughed. Godwin’s dirty boots were no more than a foot from my face, and I feared I’d get one straight in the teeth next. I twisted away from him, trying to get up, wanting to wrench his dirty neck.
‘What in damnation were you doing, Barnett!’ cried the guvnor, only now stepping over to us. I tried to get to my feet, but my knee wasn’t having any of it. And as I hunched there on all fours like a dog, the guvnor struck me hard on the back with his stick.
‘That’ll teach you, you damn fool!’
He turned to Ockwell and took his arm. ‘I’m so very sorry about that, Mr Ockwell. And madam, I must apologize for my brute of an assistant. I’ll dock him a day’s pay for this, count on it. But you taught him a lesson there, sir. You certainly did.’
‘You did that, Godwin,’ said Skulky, raising his mug to him. ‘You got him there, matey.’
I bit back my fury. There were noises of congratulation around the pub. Godwin smiled and raised his tankard, taking a toast from the crowd. When the guvnor handed him his cap from the floor, he bent and gave Lisa a big kiss, right on her painted lips. She laughed as he pulled away. Then he stood up again, tall and magnificent, enjoying the appreciation of all those folk who liked nothing more than to see a stranger get walloped.
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