My hair was already pinned up and although it was beginning to escape, I left it alone.Once again I set foot outside wearily. It felt like I had been ...n my feet all bloody day, walking in and out of ancient ruined temples, listening to hair- raising tales of rape and pillaging. Playing the avid tourist was beginning to pall slightly — this was not the reason I had come to Malta.Behind the villa the sky was streaked with vermillion ribbons of colour, as the sun dropped over the horizon and into. Walking back into the living room, he considered the two specimens of white trash who sat entranced on the threadbare couch awaiting instructions.Butch Dycus, whose dirty white beard left him looking much like a homeless Santa, had aged badly over the last few years, or else Michael might have recognized him as one of the first dealers who'd ever sparked his lifelong love affair with pot. But Michael, who averted looking directly at the man when they first met, saw nothing in Butch's empty eyes. More

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