Solo - Jack Higgins [89]
He nodded, smiling, waving both hands, blowing a kiss up to Katherine Riley and all he could think of was that there was only one way off the stage, which was straight down the Bullrun to the corridor beyond where Morgan would be waiting - had to be.
And then it occurred to him that that wasn't quite true. He turned and shook hands with the First Violin, moved past him and close to the rail. Below, twelve feet down, was the gangway leading to the Arena corridor.
He leaned forward, waving to the front line of Promenaders. 'You're really too much,' he called. 'Too beautiful for words. I don't think I can take any more.'
He put one foot on the rail and simply dropped from sight, down into the gangway. There were several screams, a sudden uproar, but he landed safely, the gangway door banged and he was gone.
And then there was only laughter and thunderous applause, everyone joining in, even the orchestra, at what must surely have been the most unorthodox departure from the stage by a major artist ever witnessed in the long history of the Royal Albert Hall.
The Arena corridor was deserted, but at any moment people would be pouring out into the corridors at every level of the building, making for the bars during the interval. The third exit door along took him out on to the stairs leading to the rear entrance.
Harry Baker was talking to two uniformed policemen in the foyer below. Mikali recognized him instantly, turned and went back up the stairs.
Could it be that he was wrong? That Morgan had done the sensible thing after all? He hurried along the Arena corridor, still deserted, and made for the exit leading to the stage-doorkeeper's office and the artists' entrance.
When he reached it, he peered round cautiously and saw two uniformed policemen standing inside out of the rain, something he had never known before in all his experience of the Albert Hall.
It was enough. That sixth sense that had kept him alive for so long now, scenting danger like some jungle animal, told him he was in deep trouble.
He turned and started to hurry back along the Arena corridor, a strange, elegant, lonely figure in white tie and black tailcoat and a moment later, Andre Previn and a whole host of people in evening dress came round the curve up ahead and bore down on him.
In a second he was surrounded by excited admirers. Previn said, 'What were you trying to do back there? Break your neck? That was a unique way to leave the stage - even for the last night of the Proms.'
'Just trying to add to the tradition in my own small way,' Mikali said.
'Well, they're all waiting for you in the Prince Consort Room. The Duchess of Kent, the Greek Ambassador, the Prime Minister. Not done to keep them waiting.' Previn laughed. 'This is England, you know.'
He took Mikali by the elbow and propelled him firmly along the corridor.
The stairway leading up to the Prince Consort Room was jammed with people and Katherine Riley had to use all her strength to force her way through. She finally reached the glass doors and found her way barred by a uniformed porter.
'Invitation, please, Miss.'
'I haven't got one,' she said. 'But I'm a personal friend of Mr Mikali's.'
'So are a lot of other people tonight, Miss.' He gestured down the packed staircase and a group of students started to call, 'Mikali! Mikali!'
Beyond, through the glass doors, she could see the room crowded with elegantly gowned women, the men mainly in evening dress except for Chief Superintendent Harry Baker in a dark blue suit standing with his back to the door.
She reached beyond the porter and rapped on the glass. As the porter restrained her, Baker turned. He looked at her gravely for a moment, then opened the door.
'It's all right, I'll handle it.' He took her by the arm and led her into the corner of the landing. 'It's no good, Doctor, he's finished. Nothing there for you any more.'
'I know that,' she said.
He stood there, staring down at her for a moment and then he did a surprising thing. He smoothed her hair gently with one hand and shook his head.
'Women. You're all the