“IS THIS A GOOD TIME?” One hand held a six pack, the other waved a trio of brown paper bags. The aroma of spiced sausage and mustard invaded the room. My stomach lurched, hoping that it wasn’t his aftershave.
“You got any McEwans?” asked the Beast.
“Sorry, no.” Michael pushed forward, not aggressively but determined to work his way inside. “Bratwurst and some other hotdogs from Wurstbude, and normal domestic beer. Good enough for a quick chat?”
A handful of Horsemen followed him into the flat, most of them ignoring me as I held the door open. They carried cooler boxes and brown bags, so I decided not to slam the door in their faces. Brad brought up the rear. He must have been larger than the rest of them, as his shoulder managed to bump me on his way past. It was way too early for me to
