The Solitary Man by Stephen Leather Read Free Book Online

McCormack turned and walked away. The bag was pulled down over Winter's head and he was dragged to his feet.
    Winter felt his confidence return. 'Any chance of me riding in the front this time, lads?' he said, and he laughed dryly. He was still chuckling when something hard slammed against his left temple and everything went red, then black.
    THE CANADIAN HELD THE metal spoon over the candle flame and watched the colourless liquid sizzle on the hot metal. He coughed, a dry hacking sound that echoed around the cell. Ray Harrigan watched as the Canadian put the spoon on to the concrete floor and wiped the syringe needle on his sleeve. He dipped the end of the needle into the liquid and drew it up into the barrel of the syringe, holding his breath as it filled. He looked up and saw Harrigan watching him.
    'You want some?' the Canadian asked.
    Harrigan shook his head.
    'Fifty baht and you can have a hit.' The Canadian used a shoelace as a tourniquet around his upper arm to raise a vein.
    'No,' said Harrigan.
    'Suit yourself,' he said, carefully inserting the needle into the vein. He withdrew blood into the syringe and allowed it to mix with the heroin. Harrigan watched, fascinated, as the Canadian injected the blood and heroin mixture back into the vein, then loosened the tourniquet and slumped back against the wall, a look of rapture on his face. 'You've never taken drugs?' he asked Harrigan.
    'No. I can't stand needles.'
    The Canadian smiled lazily. A dribble of blood ran down his arm like a tear. 'It's the only way out of this place,' he said, and tapped the side of his forehead. 'They can't imprison your mind, man. They can fuck with your body, but they can't keep my mind in here.'
    Harrigan looked at the syringe lying on the floor. 'Do you share your needle?' he asked.
    The Canadian's eyes went wide. 'Fuck, no. No one even touches my works. Do you think I'm stupid?'
    A large cockroach scuttled past Harrigan's feet. He pulled them back involuntarily. He'd never get used to the size of the insects, or the speed with which they moved. They didn't bite or sting but he couldn't bear being near them. Harrigan closed his eyes and ran his hands through his hair. It was greasy and he could 32 STEPHEN LEATHER feel that his scalp was covered in small scabs. His mattress was infected with fleas and mites and his whole body itched.
    Harrigan fought to contain the panic that kept threatening to overwhelm him. Fifty years. Fifty godforsaken years. He could barely imagine that length of time. Fifty years ago there'd been no colour televisions, no portable telephones, no digital watches. Fifty years ago his parents were still at school. The war was only just over. The Second World War, for God's sake. The panic grew like a living thing, making his heart beat faster and his breathing come in rapid gasps. He took deep breaths of the rancid air, forcing himself to stay calm. It was going to be all right, he kept repeating to himself. They'd get him out. They wouldn't leave him to rot. He'd done as they'd asked, he'd kept his mouth shut, he'd followed orders. He'd done everything the Organisation had asked. So why was it taking them so long?
    'Hey, chill, man,' said the Canadian. 'You're breathing like a train.'
    Harrigan opened his eyes. 'I'm okay,' he said.
    'You're burning up,' said the Canadian.
    'Of course I'm burning up. It's almost ninety in here.'
    The Canadian started to giggle. He stretched out on his bed and rolled over, resting his head in the crook of his right arm, the one he hadn't injected into. His eyes seemed to stare right through Harrigan, as if he wasn't there. Harrigan envied the Canadian the fact that he could look forward to being released at some point. He was hoping to be repatriated to Canada to serve the remainder of his sentence, but even if that fell through he'd still be out in six years. He had something to aim for; he knew he had a life ahead of him, a life outside. But fifty years wasn't a life sentence, it was a