The Thousand Faces of Night - Jack Higgins [43]
He rested his hands on the wheel. 'Well, next stop London as far as I'm concerned. You can come all the way or I'll drop you off at the first big town if you like.'
'I'll come all the way if you don't mind.' She leaned back into the darkness of the corner and as he reached for the starter said, 'Hugh, you don't love me, do you?'
He turned and looked straight at her. 'I don't love anyone.'
She nodded. 'Yes, I thought so.'
'Do you still want to go all the way?' he demanded.
He couldn't see her face in the darkness but she answered in a steady voice, 'Yes, I'll still go all the way with you.' He pulled the starter and a moment later they were moving again.
It was almost seven-thirty when they reached Covent Garden due to carburettor trouble on the way which had taken Marlowe over an hour to diagnose and put right. The main rush of the day was already over at the great market, but to his surprise, Marlowe found no difficulty in disposing of his entire load. The first wholesaler he tried came straight out, examined his load and gave him a cheque for one hundred and sixty pounds on the spot. What was even better, he asked for another load of the same quality to be delivered on the following day.
Jenny O'Connor looked surprisingly well considering the way in which she had spent the night. Her skirt was of such excellent material that it had creased little and she produced a ribbon from a pocket of her suede jacket and tied her flaxen hair in a pony tail.
'Even by London standards you look pretty good,' Marlowe assured her as he stopped the truck on Shaftesbury Avenue, not far from Piccadilly.
She smiled. 'I don't know about that, but it makes me feel better, anyway.'
He offered her a cigarette. 'What are you going to do? Come back with me?'
She shook her head and said slowly, 'No, I don't think so. I'll return by train. I want to take my time. I've got a lot to think over in view of what's happened.'
'Are you all right for money?' he said.
She smiled and laid a hand on his arm. 'Yes, I've got plenty. I may even decide to stay for a couple of days.'
At that moment Marlowe glanced casually through the windscreen at a black limousine which had pulled into the kerb a few yards in front of the truck. There was something vaguely familiar about it. The door opened and Faulkner, dapper and correct in an elegant grey flannel suit and Homburg hat, got out and turned to speak to someone who was still in the car.
Marlowe ducked rapidly, a hand to his face and Jenny said, 'What is it, Hugh? What's the matter?'
'That man standing by the limousine,' he told her. 'An old acquaintance I'd prefer not to meet.'
Faulkner straightened up and the limousine moved away from the kerb. He seemed to look directly at the truck and then he turned and crossing the pavement, entered a restaurant.
Jenny O'Connor squeezed Marlowe's arm. 'You can look up now. He's gone into that restaurant.' She opened the door, jumped down to the ground and said urgently, 'Go on, Hugh. Get moving.' She merged into the crowd and he moved into the main traffic stream. He looked back once and caught a glimpse of her flaxen hair and then she was gone.
His business at the safe deposit took him precisely ten minutes. They opened for business at nine-thirty and he was waiting on the doorstep, key in hand. As the clerk opened the small safe he said pleasantly, 'It's been a long time since you last called, sir.'
Marlowe smiled. 'Yes, I've been out of the country.'
Inwardly his stomach was churning and as the clerk talked, his words became a meaningless mumble. The safe door opened and he took out the shabby, old-fashioned Gladstone bag. He was still talking as they went upstairs, but Marlowe didn't hear a word.
Outside the pavement seemed to move beneath his feet and the bright, early morning sun dazzled him. The truck was parked in a side street and he almost ran towards it. He scrambled