Doctor Who_ Warlock - Andrew Cartmel [136]
‘How did you ever think I could forget my husband?’ That’s what she’d said.
But the waitress had known even then that the two of them weren’t going to split up so easily. She wasn’t surprised when they’d come walking back into Dewer’s. Walking close, not quite touching each other. They were obviously in love.
They hadn’t slept together yet, though, the waitress decided. She’d be able to see it in their manner if they had. They would be relating to each other differently. She could always tell about things like that. She had great intuition about people.
Especially on nights like tonight when she’d done a little warlock before coming on duty for the late shift. Working tables could get boring, even in a place like Dewer’s. She just had to make sure she chose a perfume that could disguise the tell‐tale liquorice smell.
The waitress picked up a well‐chilled bottle of champagne and made her way back towards the couple’s table. As she passed the kitchen she saw a tall young man in a long coat and a white silk scarf. He was heading for the group of tables where Paulie Keaton seemed to be throwing a party.
The waitress was glad it wasn’t in her section of the restaurant. She hated the idea of serving gangsters. Having to pretend that you liked them.
She was looking forward to presenting her couple with the free champagne. The ice bucket was there ready at the table, but something was wrong. One of the chairs was empty.
This time it was the man who had gone.
The girl was still there. She looked up at the waitress, standing holding the cold green bottle, staring in surprise.
‘It’s all right,’ said the girl, ‘I haven’t been stood up.’ She nodded towards the other side of the restaurant where the gangster’s noisy party was progressing.
‘Creed just wanted to say hello to Mr Keaton,’ she said.
* * *
Paulie Keaton glanced up in surprise. ‘Nobody asked you to come back here,’ he said.
The young medical student looked unhappy. He was still wearing his black overcoat and he was nervously removing and replacing his long white scarf, as if he wasn’t sure whether he was staying or not.
‘That’s true, Mr Keaton. But I’m afraid I had no choice in the matter. Just as I had no choice earlier when you approached me at my table in front of my friends and told me you had a job for me.’
Paulie chuckled. ‘Still smarting about that, eh?’
‘In this case, sir, I’ve been asked to pass a message on to you.’
‘Well, go ahead then kid.’
‘Well, actually Mr Keaton, it’s not so much a message as a death threat.’
Keaton chuckled again. ‘Someone’s going to kill me, eh?’
‘That’s what he says.’
‘And how does he plan to do this? How does he plan to kill me?’
‘With body language, sir.’
People at nearby tables fell silent. Keaton frowned. ‘He plans to kill me with body language?’
‘That’s right, Mr Keaton.’
‘Well, that’s certainly a novel approach. When is he going to do this thing to me?’
‘Well, he’s already started, sir. He’s used his body language to slip past your guards. It was easy. He just walked towards your table as if he was an old and trusted friend. And he did it with such confidence and conviction that everybody accepted it. No one questioned his right to be where he was.’
‘Which is where?’
‘Sitting right beside you.’
‘Right beside –’
Paulie Keaton turned to see a man sitting at the table beside him.
‘Hello,’ said the man. ‘My name is Creed McIlveen.’
‘Well, Creed,’ said Paulie. ‘Aren’t you going to offer to shake hands?’
‘No.’ The man had the liquorice smell of warlock on him.
‘Very slick,’ said Paulie. ‘The way you got to my table without anybody seeing you.’
‘Without anybody seeing me in a certain context,’ said Creed.
‘So, what are you, invisible?’
‘No, like our friend says: body language.’ Creed nodded at the medical student and he went and sat at a table nearby, taking off his white scarf.
‘But now that I can see you, what’s to stop me calling for my guards and getting them to drag you away?’
‘No need for that. I’m going anyway.