Singapore Sling Shot - Andrew Grant [125]
There was no belt on her skirt and no dressing gown in sight. I crossed to the large built-in wardrobe and pulled the double-doors open.
“Shit!”
There were at least five police uniforms sitting neatly on hangers along with neatly racked shirts. There were several pairs of highly polished practical shoes stacked neatly in the bottom of the wardrobe. Three uniform caps sat on a high shelf. Miss Blue was not only neat, she was a fucking cop! The shower had been turned off. She was about to walk back into the bedroom.
I had no choice but to play this thing out to whatever end we came to. I cursed at my dumb luck, and grabbed a scarf from a rack of several hanging on one leaf of the wardrobe door. I quickly crossed the bedroom to stand with my back pressing against the wall beside the en suite door. The door opened and Miss Blue came into the room. She was naked, which of course was to be expected. She was drying her hair with a towel which obscured her face as she moved. She stopped momentarily and realised that the curtains had been drawn. She lowered the towel and started to turn.
I came off the wall and went for her. It wasn’t pretty, but it was quick. I grabbed a handful of hair and drove Miss Blue forward towards her bed, clipping her feet out from under her as I did so. She fell full length onto the bed. I straddled her, letting my ninety-five kilos drive her into the bedding as I held her face into the bedcovers. I didn’t want a shout or a scream.
She was trying to fight. Her legs were scissoring wildly. Her heels were hitting me on the back but with no real force. She was trying to reach back and fight me with her hands. There were fingernails. I slapped her hands away with my free hand. She wasn’t giving up easily. Miss Blue planted her hands flat on the bed and tried to force herself upwards. I just leaned on her, using my weight to keep her face buried in the soft counterpane.
The suddenness of the attack and the fact she couldn’t get breath into her lungs was now starting to take the fight out of my cop. Now she was panicking, simply trying to get some air into her oxygen-starved body.
“Listen,” I said softly. “I just want to talk. I’ll let you breathe but you scream or you fight and you die. That’s a promise, got it?” There was an explosion of sound from deep in the bed and her legs stopped thrashing around. I lifted her head and she gulped in air. I released her hair. “Hands behind your back.”
She started to object, so I grabbed hair and pushed her face back into the bedding. Her hands came back instantly. I let go of the hair once more and used the scarf to tie her wrists together. Only then did I get off her and stand at the foot of the bed. I rolled Miss Blue onto her back, touching my finger to my lips as I did so. Her eyes were huge. Her mouth was opening and closing silently like a guppy in a fish tank.
I sat on the edge of the bed and removed my fighting knife from my boot. I held it casually in my hand with the blade just touching her thigh. Her eyes widened even further and she tried to squirm away. I grabbed her shoulder with my free hand and anchored her where she was.
I don’t even think at that moment she was aware of her nakedness; the sight of the blade and perhaps the guy holding it had her full attention. The big dark eyes switched between my face and the razor-sharp blade of the knife. I pulled my Ray Bans off and slipped them into the pocket of my jacket. Some people say I have very cold eyes, at least when I want to use them that way. I did now.
“Here’s the thing,” I said softly. “You were tailing me. As you have discovered, two can play at that game. I know you’re a cop, but are you working for the police on this or Thomas Lu?”
If Miss Blue’s eyes were wide before, now they were positively