His boots sounded loud on the uneven, ill-fitting floorboards and he stopped within a couple of paces, self-conscious, allowing himself a small, nervous smile. The dust, thick and grey on the floor, billowed in tiny puffs and he eased the door closed against the breeze.
A man in the corner sat at a lone table, stared, unblinking. Three others in the adjacent corner swiveled in their chairs. No one spoke. Simms revolved his shoulders a few times and took off his hat. He ran his necktie around the inside rim, put it back on and crossed to the bar.
It was a small, bright room, the sunlight from the large window on the east-facing wall casting everything in stark white. The barman polished a filthy glass with a towel which was equally grimy and his eyes were narrow against the glare.
“What
