Cocaine by Jack Hillgate Page B

his back evaporating in the cool. He stood under a unit to calm himself.
    ‘ Lim-ou-sine ’, he thought, as he rang the doorbell. The sound was like a set of garden chimes, a friendly, homely tune. Turning a hundred Marks into five hundred had been his staple diet in Dusseldorf. This would require similar skills, negotiating strength and a lot more than a hundred Marks with which to negotiate.
    The door was opened by a woman, a small friendly woman who smiled at Franz or Heinz .
    ‘ Alleman ?’
    ‘ I am the German.’
    ‘ Por aqui, por aqui ’, she said as she beckoned him into the apartment. 'Come through, come through.'
    He walked through into the dark. All the blinds were drawn and there were no lights, just the chink of the sun through the sides of the window frames.
    ‘ Quieres café ?’
    Before he had time to tell her if he wanted a coffee or not, she disappeared into what he assumed was the kitchen, although it was difficult to tell.
    ‘ Sit down, Herr Frankel’, said a voice.
    ‘ Hullo? I cannot see you?’
    ‘ I’m here Herr Frankel, in the armchair by the window.’
    Franz or Heinz ’s eyes began to adjust to the gloom and he could now see the outline of a man, a small man, sitting right where he said he was. ‘ Herr Frankel ’ sounded good. Very professional. Not his real name of course.
    ‘ Do you want to test the merchandise, Herr Frankel?’
    ‘ Ja ja - yes I will test.’
    A light clicked on and Franz or Heinz shielded his eyes momentarily from its glare. Lisi placed the lamp on the table and for the first time Franz or Heinz could see that his journey had not been in vain. Two plastic-wrapped packages, each about eight inches long, five inches wide and an inch thick, sat side by side on the smooth wooden top. Their weight, if Lisi had it right, was two kilograms, street value approximately one hundred and twenty thousand dollars. The cost to Franz or Heinz , five thousand dollars.
    ‘I have a bag sealer’, said Lisi. ‘From the factory. You choose which bag to break open, you try, you like, we reseal, we weigh, you pay, you go. Yes?’
    ‘This is traditional, yes.’
    ‘ Muy bien. Choose a bag, Herr Frankel.’
    Franz or Heinz looked at them. They were identical. Was this a trick? He had been tricked before. Maybe he should test both bags. He pointed to both of them and Lisi smiled.
    ‘Of course. I would do the same.’
    Lisi suddenly had a scalpel in his hand and he made an incision across the middle of each bag so that the plastic fell open easily.
    ‘Anywhere’, said Lisi.
    Franz or Heinz dipped his finger into the bag on the left and tasted the white powder on the end. It was good. Then he dipped his finger in the right. Also good. He removed a small mirror and a razor blade from his left jacket pocket and collected a tiny amount of white powder from each bag using the blade, made them into wavy lines on his little mirror and snorted the left, waited a few seconds, then the right.
    ‘This is good shit’, he said, wiping his nose with a paper tissue and sniffing. ‘Very pure.’
    ‘It is grade A cocaine, my friend’, said Lisi. ‘Shall I ask Miranda to reseal the bags?’
    ‘Ja, ja. Yes. This would be appropriate.’
    ‘You have the money?’
    Miranda came out from the kitchen holding a large plastic tray and wearing rubber gloves. She picked up the large bags of white powder, placed them on the tray and walked back to the kitchen.
    Franz or Heinz watched her.
    ‘The money?’
    The envelope was dirty but the money was all in there. Fifty one hundred dollar bills. Lisi flicked through them quickly and then shoved the envelope and the money into a drawer underneath the table.
    ‘The cocaine is yours now, Herr Frankel. Miranda?’
    Franz or Heinz looked across towards the kitchen and he saw someone come out towards him. Suddenly, all the lights in the apartment went on and Franz or Heinz found himself squinting. The figure he’d thought was Miranda was actually that of a