Comes the Dark Stranger - Jack Higgins [31]
His eyes burned out of the darkness as Laura Faulkner and Steele crossed the pavement to her car. She stood with one hand through the open window, fondling the dog’s muzzle, and Steele talked to her in a low voice. Once he laughed and laid a hand on her arm in a familiar manner, and then she got into her car and drove away.
Steele started along the pavement, passing the doorway in which Shane and the girl were standing. Shane pulled her close, hiding his face against her, and Steele gave them a casual glance and moved on.
Shane stepped out of the doorway and watched him turn the corner, and there was bitterness in his eyes. From behind him Jenny said, ‘Now what was all that supposed to be about? Are you interested in her, too?’
He turned quickly, a frown on his face. ‘You’ve seen her before?’
She nodded. ‘She’s been visiting him at the club ever since I’ve worked here, and that’s almost two years now.’
He started to walk along the street, hands thrust deep into his pockets. His face was like a mask, the skin drawn so tightly over the bones that in the pale light of the street lamps it resembled a skull, and there was a cold, killing rage in his heart.
Laura Faulkner had made a fool of him. She had visited him earlier in the evening for one reason only. To get him out of his room to give Steele, or one of his henchmen, a chance to look for the gun. The most damning thing of all was the fact that she herself had suggested that he leave the Luger behind. The whole thing had been cleverly planned from beginning to end. They’d banked on the fact that he’d ask her to go for a drink. If he hadn’t, she would have probably suggested it herself.
He paused on the corner, debating his next move, and then suddenly he felt tired. More tired than he had felt in a long time. Laura Faulkner could wait until their appointment. He sighed deeply. At least one good thing had come out of it. He now knew for certain that something was being concealed from him. What it was he didn’t know, but that could wait until the following afternoon.
He started to move forward, and Jenny Green said, ‘Hey, what about me?’
He turned, surprised to find she was still there, and then a slow smile came to his face. ‘Didn’t you say something about coffee?’ he said.
She grinned and slipped a hand inside his arm, and together they turned out of the square and walked towards the main road.
She lived in a street at the back of the university, lined with old, brownstone houses, each with a narrow strip of garden running down to the road. Her flat was on the top floor, and when she opened the door and switched on the light he found himself in a large, comfortable living-room.
She kicked off her shoes and smiled at him, an expression of relief on her face. ‘I must wash my face and change into something comfortable,’ she said. ‘Make yourself at home. I’ll only be a minute.’
He wandered about the room, examining things. Through the half-open door of the bedroom he caught a glimpse of her standing in front of a mirror unfastening her stockings, and the contours of her supple body stood out boldly under her nylon slip.
He turned away quickly, his throat dry, and sat down in a chair by the fire-place. When he picked up a magazine his hands were shaking slightly, and his breathing was ragged and uneven. Somewhere he could hear water running as a tap was turned on. A few minutes later she walked into the room, pinning her hair up at the back of her head.
She was wearing an old quilted dressing-gown and fur-lined slippers. Her face was scrubbed clean, and without her make-up she looked startlingly young and innocent.
She went into the kitchen and filled the kettle. Shane lit a cigarette and went and leaned in the doorway, and there was puzzlement in his voice. ‘How the hell did you get mixed up in this sort of life?’ he said.
She turned, suddenly serious. ‘Don’t get any wrong ideas. I’m in show business