“Go to directly to jail! Do not pass …”
“Okay, I´m paying up.”
Voices from the mess deck on the prison ship escaped out of the lead-lined room through the ventilator. They were of no concern to the Captain, taking notes of the coming storm over the radio in the neighbouring cabin, nor the chained prisoners who slept down in the hold. They did not concern the Tower of London in its watery tomb, thirty fathoms deep, nor the crows in exodus.
Once more the dice rattled across the board. Once more the paper changed hands. Then came the alarm.