the ceiling. All three men lay down and covered themselves with straw.
‘Who’s a lousy cheat?’ Senka whispered. ‘Who are they?’
‘The Ghoul’s a lousy cheat, that’s who. Those are his fighters, from his deck. The big one’s Cudgel, the sixer. The one with no nose is Beak, he’s the eighter. And the little one’s Yoshka, the Jack. Ah, this is really bad. This’ll be the death of us.’
‘Why?’ Senka asked, frightened.
‘Yoshka’s no good in a fight, but he never misses with that gun of his. He used to work in a circus, snuffing candles out with bullets. If they brought Yoshka it means there’ll be shooting. But our two will have left their guns at home. And there’s no way to warn them . . .’
This news set Senka’s teeth chattering. ‘What’re we going to do?’
Sprat had turned all pale too. ‘Hell only knows . . .’
They just sat there, shaking. Time dragged by, then seemed to stop completely.
Down below it was quiet. Just once they heard a match being struck and caught a whiff of tobacco smoke, then someone hissed: ‘Cudgel, you ugly mug, d’you want to burn us alive? I’ll shoot you!’
There was silence again. And then, just before the clock struck seven, there was a metal click. Sprat mimed for Senka: that was the hammer being cocked.
Oh, this was really bad!
Two light carriages drove up to the bald spot from different directions.
Sitting on the box of one carriage – a classy number in red lacquer –was Deadeye, wearing a hat and a sandy-coloured three-piece suit, and holding a cane. The Prince was sprawled on the leather seat, smoking a papyrosa. He was done up like a dandy too, in a sky-blue shirt and thin scarlet belt.
Sitting on the box of the other carriage, which wasn’t as fancy as the first, but still pretty smart, was a woman with hands the size of ham hocks. Her fat red cheeks stuck out from the bright flowery shawl wrapped tight round her head. It looked as though two watermelons had been stuck down the front of her blouse – Senka had never seen breasts like that before. The Ghoul was riding behind, like the Prince. He looked pretty ordinary: stringy and balding, narrow snaky eyes, greasy hair hanging down like icicles. He was no eagle from the look of him, no way was he a match for the Prince.
They met in the middle of the bald patch, but didn’t bother shaking hands. The Ghoul lit up, and glared at the prince. Deadeye and the huge woman stood a bit farther back – Senka supposed that must be the way it was done.
‘Shall we kick up a racket, eh, Speedy?’ Sprat asked in a whisper.
‘But what if the Ghoul only put his men in the barn just in case? Because he was afraid the Prince might try something? Then it’s the shiv for you and me.’
Senka was really afraid of making a racket. What if that Yoshka started firing bullets through the ceiling?
Sprat whispered: ‘Who can tell. . . OK, let’s watch for a bit.’
The men in the meadow finished their papyroses and threw them away.
The Prince was the first to speak. ‘Why didn’t you come with your Jack?’
‘Yoshka’s teeth have been bothering him, his cheek’s swollen right up. And why do I need my Jack? I’m not afraid of you, Prince. You’re the one who’s scared of me. You brought Deadeye along. A woman’s a match for you.’
Manka chuckled in a loud, deep voice.
The Prince and Deadeye locked eyes once more. Senka saw Deadeye drum his fingers on his cane. Maybe they’d guessed there was something shady going on.
‘If you want to bring a woman, that’s your business.’ The Prince put his hands on his hips. ‘Lording it over women is all you’re good for. When I’m the ace, I’ll let you run the mamselles of Khitrovka. It’ll be just the job for you.’
The Ghoul didn’t rise to the bait, he just smiled and cracked his long fingers: ‘Of course, you, Prince, are an outstanding hold-up artist, a man on the make, but you’re still wet behind the ears. What kind of ace would you make? It’s barely five minutes since you got your deck together. And you’re far too reckless. Every last nark in Moscow’s after you, but I’m a safe pair of hands. Do the decent thing and stand down.’
The words were peaceable, but the voice was jeering – you could see he was riling the Prince, trying to