45 Mill Street

I stopped the car and got out. I took my bag and felt it didn’t weigh so much, but I didn’t think more about it. I walked down the steps to the basement. There was graffiti everywhere on the grey concrete walls leading down to the door. There were some rusty, bent bars in front of the door, so nobody could come in, but you could see, people had tried to break in. There were three bullets from a gun lying in the corner.

I rang the door bell. One to two seconds later the door opened. There was a fat black man dressed in a suit right in front of me. He had black sun glasses and a big tattoo on his neck. I could feel the sweat already dripping down the back of my neck. The man stepped aside and I stepped in. Quickly the man slammed the door behind me and locked it.

The room was dark. The only light was coming from a lamp placed on a bar stool. There was nothing in the room but a table with some money on. Fat Tony, the mafia boss of East London was sitting next to his two trustworthy hit men. “Do you have the cocaine?”. “Jep”, I answered. I took my bag up on a chair and opened it. The coke wasn’t there. I opened the other pocket, it wasn’t there either. “Where is it”, I thought and searched through my bag. “Are you having problems?”, Fat Tony asked. “It isn’t there”, I answered. “You can’t just loose 5 kilos of cocaine. Where is it?”, he asked aggressively. “In my apartment”, I answered, “It must be there”, I added nervously.