Imagine yourself now, in a beach house on the eastern shore of Florida. It’s a wild and isolated part of the shore, and right now the savage wind and rain of a hurricane are bludgeoning the house. In the living room, two men are playing scrabble by the light of a kerosene lantern. One of them is quite young, in his twenties; his left eye is badly bruised, half closed. The other man is old, in his mid thirties; he is wearing a shoulder holster with a 38-calibre revolver in it…

Written by: George Lowthar