Pulp Fiction | The Stone-Cold Dead In The Market Affair By John Oram - Plot & Excerpts
If was a cul-de-sac about one hundred and fifty yards long which at one time had housed the carriages of noble families. Now the stables had been converted into lock-up garages with apartments above. Illya drove to the far end of the mews, made a U-turn and parked with the front of the Cortina facing into Stephen Street. He remained sitting behind the wheel while Solo got out and walked back, looking for the number Merle had given him. He found it halfway down the right-hand side: a pair of green-painted garage doors with a smaller door beside them. He pressed the doorbell on the small door and waited. There was no response. He took out a bunch of keys and tried the lock on the garage doors. At the third attempt it clicked. He swung the doors wide enough to admit his body, then pulled them shut behind him. Enough daylight filtered through the grimy windows for him to see that the car was a black Humber Hawk. The front bumper was decorated with a row of automobile club emblems, but on the near side there was a gap that showed up like a broken tooth.
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