Peccadillo - A Katla Novel (Amsterdam Assassin Series Book 2) Read Online Free PDF Page B

quay. “On the verge of following the singer into suicidal bliss.”
    “Joy Division?”
    “Harbingers of New Wave. Stale music in factory halls.”
    “I know what you mean,” Chen replied. “Didn’t know you were a fan.”
    “I’m not. That’s why I don’t think much of this view.”
    In the parking lot in front of the two-story office building the small crew watched the container swing over the warehouses. The opening rotated towards the quay and Nicky slowed the hook’s rotation to prevent the four chains from twisting together. When the container was suspended over the alley between the warehouses and the office building, he pushed the lever to turn the hook again. The container rotated slowly, but when he tried to lower the metal husk to the ground, it kept rotating and grazed the top of the warehouses. He drew the container up again, sticky sweat coating his armpits as it kept rotating, and he cursed silently.
    Chen shook his head. “The opening has to be—”
    Nicky held up his hand to motion him into silence, waited until the container stopped its rotation and drew another lever to turn the hook the other direction. As the container drew parallel with the small alley between the offices and the warehouses, Nicky lowered the big metal box a little too abruptly, the empty metal husk hitting the concrete with a dull clang.
    “It should hug the wall.” Chen pointed down. “The open doors shouldn’t protrude past the warehouses.”
    “This crane is not equipped for transporting containers, Chen. And I’m not a professional crane driver. I need some help to move the thing.”
    “Can’t you drag it along the ground?”
    “No, I can’t. I told you before, the best way to put that container there would be by forklift truck, not by crane. Except the space doesn’t allow for the forklift truck to back out, unless you move those stacks.”
    “Okay. How do we work this?”
    “Get four men to turn the container into position. Make sure no-one steps between the container and the wall, or it’ll crush him.”
    Chen grabbed the two-way radio, but Nicky halted him. “Go down there and explain what needs to be done.”
    Chen nodded and lifted the hatch in the floor of the cabin. Nicky watched him clamber down the iron rungs to the quay. He closed the hatch, lit up a cigarette, and gazed out over the harbour.
    From this height, the forklift truck riding around the dark terrain between the warehouses looked like a tiny Huayi miniature, the bright lights illuminating its way. Stacks of timber blocked the terrain, except for a path down the middle. A funnel, straight to the container, where flashlight beams moved like fingers over the ground.
    Through his binoculars Nicky watched a couple of men tie ropes through the four lower corners so they could rotate the container without getting too close.
    The two-way radio crackled. “Lift.”
    He drew back the middle handle and the container shuddered on the cable.
    “Stop,” Chen spoke through the two-way radio. “Forward, slow.”
    With four men hanging onto the ropes to keep the container in position, moving the metal husk next to the wall was a piece of cake. Holding the binoculars in his free hand Nicky watched them open the doors and check the distance. The forklift truck backed into a slot opposite the open container and turned off its lights, ready to shove Sieltjes’ car into the container.
    Nicky opened a window, pitched his cigarette into the darkness and followed its descent to the quay. No sparks, the quay was too wet. He tilted the face of his watch to the moon shining into the cabin.
    Eight forty-seven.
    At least an hour to go, but Lau would want him to stay in the cabin. He poured himself a mug of coffee from his thermos and fingered the paperback novel. The moon illuminated the cabin well enough to allow him to see the controls, not enough to read by. And turning on the cabin light would be like a beacon to the harbour patrol.
    Digging deeper,