TE16 Turkish Delight

Needlefish

- Yes, Needlefish replied. I don’t drink. I don’t like alcohol.

They weren’t Falco’s only customers, so naturally he was bored with the little show of admission. He left them to bring two beers from the bar. There was a five second silence. Koma glanced at Zo first, then at Needlefish. He in turn had glanced at Zo first, then at Koma. Their eyes met. They both opened to expel the words burning their throats, but Needlefish was quicker. Koma had to content himself withwatching his mouth move like a runner, late to start, watched the others go. Of course he thought that. He thought more, but Needlefish was so tall that he would rather keep it to himself. His German was conspicuously elaborate. He sounded more like a civil servant or a lecturer at a university. He was polite. His lips didn’t carry the weight that Koma’s foreign accent did. His grammar was at least as correct as a Westphalian snob’s. - You’re right. I’ve been following you since the JAB. Don’t take it the wrong way. I’m not going to make some strange proposal. I just wanted to make your acquaintance. - You must think I’m following you.

Oneof DieTotenHosen’smore fast-paced trackswason. YetKoma could hear the man’s words perfectly clearly. He wasn’t shouting.

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