Chapter 6

Sitting back, Dubois brushed the crumbs off his wool sweater. He patted himself down, probably for a cigarette, but then his features tensed as he must have realized those little treasures were gone now. Joe would have saved hiscigarettes. He’d have rationed them. But Dubois had probably never had to ration anything in his life, not even after the crash of twenty-nine.

Joe realized the evening was getting late and he had work to do. He found his paper and a pencil and opened his tin box which still smelled of tea. In there, he kept the pictures of the inmates’ wives and girlfriends. Using a wooden plank as a writing board, he settled in for an hour of writing. The first letter would be for Mila, Tobias’s girl, a dark haired woman with a crooked nose and very big lips. She didn’t look happy on her portrait, but then again, she was married to Tobias the Butcher.

Joe started. With his right hand in a bandage, it would be difficult, but he managed it after a while.

My dearest Mia,