from the left.
Hooper rose up from the bank just as the two men collided hard and staggered to keep their balance.
A single barge came from the west, heavy laden, low in the water, its cargo masked by a tarpaulin.
The smaller man lashed out at the larger, striking him a quick, hard blow on the jaw as if he knew how to fight. The big man staggered, but regained his balance, swinging wildly and missing altogether.
Hooper moved toward them as the smaller man struck again. This time, he connected only with a shoulder, and they both lurched sideways, kicking and punching.
The barge was closer, the lighterman with the oar standing motionless.
Monk reached the fighting men and made a grab for the larger one as he swayed closer to him. He caught one arm, and swung the man round, off balance.
Hooper reached the smaller man and held him back, pinning his arms behind him.
The larger man let out a bellow of rage and kicked hard. Monk moved just enough to avoid being struck, and allowed the man’s impetus to carry him further off balance.
They both swayed back and forth, striking and evading. Monk caught one or two blows, but mostly they glanced off his arms or shoulders. He would have bruises. He landed a few of his own, but the man seemed to be built of rock.
The other man caught Hooper where he had been wounded, and he staggered back. The man slithered away like an eel, Hooper after him, but holding his wounded arm slack, as if the pain had robbed him of its use.
Monk’s inattention cost him a hard blow to the chest, momentarily knocking the wind out of him. If he were not more careful the man would escape. It was only a few yards to the barge in the river.
Except that, as he turned to lash out at the big man, he saw the barge begin to move away again, the lighterman leaning on the oar and turning it with the customary grace of his kind.
There was a loud splash as the small man fell into the water. Monk stared. Hooper had also disappeared.
The big man roared a string of abuse at Monk and broke away to charge over to the far side of the wharf.
Monk lunged after him, throwing himself at the man’s back and bringing them both down hard, sprawling across the wooden planks of the wharf, rolling and kicking, each trying to punch the other, and avoid being hit.
Even above the breathlessness and the curses, Monk could hear Hooper and the other man thrashing about in the water. He concentrated on what he was doing. Hooper could swim, but with the weakened arm he would be at a disadvantage.
Monk feinted at the big man, then altered his aim, half-turned, and struck him hard on the side of the head with his elbow.
For an instant the big man went slack, allowing Monk the chance to scramble to his feet and regain his balance. He rushed to the side of the wharf where Hooper was floundering and the small man came to the surface, momentarily dazed, gasping for air.
Then the big man was on his feet. He gave a roar of fury, put his head down, and charged at Monk, bellowing all the way.
Monk waited until the last possible moment, then sidestepped. He felt the turbulence of air as the man passed him, missed his step, and went crashing over the side and down into the water.
The wave of his wash caught Hooper in the face and went right over the smaller man’s head.
The barge was now more than a hundred yards away, and increasing the distance.
The big man came to the surface, arms thrashing, sending water all over the place. He clearly had no idea how to swim, and the river was far too deep for him to reach the bottom with his feet. Even if he could have, it would be only soft, sucking river mud.
Hooper moved slowly toward the small man, who also seemed to be in trouble. He was coughing and spluttering as if he could not fill his lungs. Judging from the way he had attacked the other man, he was the policeman, and the big man the fugitive.
“Help him!” Monk shouted to Hooper, waving his arm at the small man. He could not leave
Hooper rose up from the bank just as the two men collided hard and staggered to keep their balance.
A single barge came from the west, heavy laden, low in the water, its cargo masked by a tarpaulin.
The smaller man lashed out at the larger, striking him a quick, hard blow on the jaw as if he knew how to fight. The big man staggered, but regained his balance, swinging wildly and missing altogether.
Hooper moved toward them as the smaller man struck again. This time, he connected only with a shoulder, and they both lurched sideways, kicking and punching.
The barge was closer, the lighterman with the oar standing motionless.
Monk reached the fighting men and made a grab for the larger one as he swayed closer to him. He caught one arm, and swung the man round, off balance.
Hooper reached the smaller man and held him back, pinning his arms behind him.
The larger man let out a bellow of rage and kicked hard. Monk moved just enough to avoid being struck, and allowed the man’s impetus to carry him further off balance.
They both swayed back and forth, striking and evading. Monk caught one or two blows, but mostly they glanced off his arms or shoulders. He would have bruises. He landed a few of his own, but the man seemed to be built of rock.
The other man caught Hooper where he had been wounded, and he staggered back. The man slithered away like an eel, Hooper after him, but holding his wounded arm slack, as if the pain had robbed him of its use.
Monk’s inattention cost him a hard blow to the chest, momentarily knocking the wind out of him. If he were not more careful the man would escape. It was only a few yards to the barge in the river.
Except that, as he turned to lash out at the big man, he saw the barge begin to move away again, the lighterman leaning on the oar and turning it with the customary grace of his kind.
There was a loud splash as the small man fell into the water. Monk stared. Hooper had also disappeared.
The big man roared a string of abuse at Monk and broke away to charge over to the far side of the wharf.
Monk lunged after him, throwing himself at the man’s back and bringing them both down hard, sprawling across the wooden planks of the wharf, rolling and kicking, each trying to punch the other, and avoid being hit.
Even above the breathlessness and the curses, Monk could hear Hooper and the other man thrashing about in the water. He concentrated on what he was doing. Hooper could swim, but with the weakened arm he would be at a disadvantage.
Monk feinted at the big man, then altered his aim, half-turned, and struck him hard on the side of the head with his elbow.
For an instant the big man went slack, allowing Monk the chance to scramble to his feet and regain his balance. He rushed to the side of the wharf where Hooper was floundering and the small man came to the surface, momentarily dazed, gasping for air.
Then the big man was on his feet. He gave a roar of fury, put his head down, and charged at Monk, bellowing all the way.
Monk waited until the last possible moment, then sidestepped. He felt the turbulence of air as the man passed him, missed his step, and went crashing over the side and down into the water.
The wave of his wash caught Hooper in the face and went right over the smaller man’s head.
The barge was now more than a hundred yards away, and increasing the distance.
The big man came to the surface, arms thrashing, sending water all over the place. He clearly had no idea how to swim, and the river was far too deep for him to reach the bottom with his feet. Even if he could have, it would be only soft, sucking river mud.
Hooper moved slowly toward the small man, who also seemed to be in trouble. He was coughing and spluttering as if he could not fill his lungs. Judging from the way he had attacked the other man, he was the policeman, and the big man the fugitive.
“Help him!” Monk shouted to Hooper, waving his arm at the small man. He could not leave
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