The Beggar's Opera Read Online Free PDF Page A

and narrow, but he wasn’t sure. Her expression lasted only a moment.
    “You are very strong,” she said to Ellis, but he thought for some reason that the comment was directed to the other man.
    The dark man held her eyes as she slipped her arm through Ellis’s and slid closer. Fidel brought the stranger another drink.
    “My turn to go,” said Ellis. “I’ll be back shortly,” he promised, but he felt uneasy leaving her alone.
    As Ellis walked back from the men’s room, he could see the two of them in the wide mirror. The dark man leaned over Ellis’s stool and put his face in front of the woman’s. Ellis saw him draw his finger across his throat and mouth something to her. She squirmed on her seat. When Ellis sat down, he saw she was trembling. What the fuck?
    “Do you know this man?” he asked. He tried to imagine what the man had said to scare her so badly. She too quickly shook her head and he didn’t believe her. He turned to confront the man. “Maybe you want to leave the lady alone, pal,” he said, almost snarling.
    “I’m just having a drink,” the dark man responded. “Making conversation with the lady. If that’s what you want to call her.”
    But his rudeness to the woman made Ellis suddenly angry again. He tensed up, ready to fight. He and Steve Sloan would have drawn lots to see which one of them would get to beat the shit out of an asshole like this one.
    He lowered his voice and said menacingly: “Listen, pal. You stay the fuck away from her, okay? Tonight, she’s with me. Got it?”
    “Like I said, I just came in for a drink,” the man replied. He threw some bills on the bar. “Here, I’ve got your tab covered. No hard feelings, right mate? Just a little misunderstanding. I’m leaving. No need to be upset.”
    “Good plan,” Ellis said sarcastically.
    The man threw back his drink and slipped off his stool. He had been sitting on Ellis’s jacket, which made Ellis like him even less.
    “Thank you,” said the woman, clearly relieved by the man’s departure. “That was awkward. There are many men in Cuba who do not appreciate women like me.”
    “I find that hard to believe. He was just jealous. Forget about it.”
    Ellis drained his glass, tilting his head back, letting the sweet brown liquid slide down his throat. Aged rum. Nirvana.
    For the first time in months, Steve and Hillary slipped away.

SEVEN
    The woman put her hand over Ellis’s and squeezed it a little. She was seducing him and he was surprised to find himself responding. He hadn’t felt attractive for a long time. He reached for the bottle and poured himself another drink, neat. He poured one for her, too, as they chatted. She was articulate and charming. She told him she was in the tourist business. She winked at him, knowing he knew exactly what she was and didn’t care.
    “What do you do for a living?”
    “I’m a police officer. In Canada.” He told her that he had just started a new job in the Child Abuse and Sex Crimes Unit. That he had been on leave before then, because of his injuries.
    “Because of these?” she said and touched the place on his lip where the thick scar puckered.
    “Yes. That was part of it.” He liked that she didn’t ask questions about them. “Do my scars frighten you?”
    “No, not at all,” she said “They make your face more interesting. They give it character.”
    “I’ve heard that before. But I never believed it.” He tried to grin, his mouth lopsided in the mirror.
    “I understand scars, believe me. I did not mean to offendyou earlier by staring.” She put a gentle hand on his face, ran her fingers lightly across the scar that ran from his forehead to his upper lip. He pulled her hand away and she took his fingers, ran her tongue lightly over them. He became aroused.
    He reached for the bottle again, more to distract himself than anything else, but it was empty.
    “Here,” she said, and pushed her drink towards him. “Finish mine. Please, I haven’t