your magnifying glass in your smart Hatton Garden office you'd be contributing to the rise in infant mortality on the Dark Continent, did you?'
'But is it true?' asked Ron quietly.
'People get sick, have accidents, drive themselves mad over African girls. Maybe something'll happen to you while you're up there. Watch what you're eating, Ronny boy, or you might start giving a better price for your diamonds than you want to.'
'Now I know you're talking crap.'
'You're probably right there, Ronny. You're probably right.'
Chapter 9
The bar closed. Ron slid off his stool. Malahide began manoeuvring himself like a horse and dray in a cul-de-sac. We all made it to the lifts where there was a gathering of loose-limbed people telling each other stuff they didn't need to hearâmost of it in Danish. Ron and I ordered a five o'clock alarm call and picked up our keys. Malahide announced his first pee of the evening and went off in search of the conveniences. Both lifts arrived at the same time.
I ended up at the back of one lift, jammed up against a bleach blonde who was either as tall as me or was just riding up the wall in the crush. She sneered and turned her head to show me a pair of scimitar earrings which promised castration should anyone think of trying anything furtive. The doors remained open long enough for people's breathing to become audible. As they began to close, an African moved into frame, turned his back and pressed himself into the lift and a small woman grunted at my back.
Through the heads I could see the African's small ear. He turned his head to the woman next to him and I saw his profile. Something colder than a toad ran up my back and settled across my neck so that the hackles rose. There were three one-inch scars on his cheek. I turned my face back to the blonde and scratched my cheek on some appliqué on her T-shirt which said 'Heaven'.
The doors closed and a sense of panic moved through the lift. The crush tightened. We went straight up to the second floor. The lift slowed. The doors opened and everybody exploded out. The blonde ripped past me, spinning me back into the lift and I lunged forward and hit the 'Close Doors' button, which didn't respond. In the corridor people fought to get past a couple who'd fallen on each other's lips. The lift doors closed uncertainly and in their own sweet time. I went up to the third floor on my own. The doors opened on to a silent corridor.
I poked my head out of the lift to see if he wanted to shoot that off first. The corridor was badly lit and empty. I walked past the second lift and looked down the short passageway which gave access to the stairs. There was no one. I opened the door to my room and started looking for a weapon.
The owners of this hotel knew a few things about people. The only two appliances in the room that approached being heavy, blunt and movable were the TV and the mini-bar. I took a penknife out and dismantled the towel rail and found myself holding a thin and hollow metal rail which might have concussed a trusting hamster with a thin skull. Then I remembered the fax, where reception had put it, and thought that room 205 might be about to get some room service they hadn't banked on.
In the corridor I found a wall-mounted fire extinguisher. I threw the towel rail back into the room, lifted the extinguisher off the wall and walked to the stairs. I opened the door and listened to the thick humid air sliding down the bannisters. I went down the stairs, weighing the fire extinguisher, trying to decide how hard I was going to have to hit him to knock him out. It wasn't so long ago that I'd killed a man with a lavatory and I wasn't keen to repeat that with another household appliance.
I opened the door and stepped back into the dark shadow of a corner. At the junction with the main corridor was a single downlighter which dropped a cone of light on to the apex. I heard a couple giggling down the corridor and the sound of key tags knocking
'But is it true?' asked Ron quietly.
'People get sick, have accidents, drive themselves mad over African girls. Maybe something'll happen to you while you're up there. Watch what you're eating, Ronny boy, or you might start giving a better price for your diamonds than you want to.'
'Now I know you're talking crap.'
'You're probably right there, Ronny. You're probably right.'
Chapter 9
The bar closed. Ron slid off his stool. Malahide began manoeuvring himself like a horse and dray in a cul-de-sac. We all made it to the lifts where there was a gathering of loose-limbed people telling each other stuff they didn't need to hearâmost of it in Danish. Ron and I ordered a five o'clock alarm call and picked up our keys. Malahide announced his first pee of the evening and went off in search of the conveniences. Both lifts arrived at the same time.
I ended up at the back of one lift, jammed up against a bleach blonde who was either as tall as me or was just riding up the wall in the crush. She sneered and turned her head to show me a pair of scimitar earrings which promised castration should anyone think of trying anything furtive. The doors remained open long enough for people's breathing to become audible. As they began to close, an African moved into frame, turned his back and pressed himself into the lift and a small woman grunted at my back.
Through the heads I could see the African's small ear. He turned his head to the woman next to him and I saw his profile. Something colder than a toad ran up my back and settled across my neck so that the hackles rose. There were three one-inch scars on his cheek. I turned my face back to the blonde and scratched my cheek on some appliqué on her T-shirt which said 'Heaven'.
The doors closed and a sense of panic moved through the lift. The crush tightened. We went straight up to the second floor. The lift slowed. The doors opened and everybody exploded out. The blonde ripped past me, spinning me back into the lift and I lunged forward and hit the 'Close Doors' button, which didn't respond. In the corridor people fought to get past a couple who'd fallen on each other's lips. The lift doors closed uncertainly and in their own sweet time. I went up to the third floor on my own. The doors opened on to a silent corridor.
I poked my head out of the lift to see if he wanted to shoot that off first. The corridor was badly lit and empty. I walked past the second lift and looked down the short passageway which gave access to the stairs. There was no one. I opened the door to my room and started looking for a weapon.
The owners of this hotel knew a few things about people. The only two appliances in the room that approached being heavy, blunt and movable were the TV and the mini-bar. I took a penknife out and dismantled the towel rail and found myself holding a thin and hollow metal rail which might have concussed a trusting hamster with a thin skull. Then I remembered the fax, where reception had put it, and thought that room 205 might be about to get some room service they hadn't banked on.
In the corridor I found a wall-mounted fire extinguisher. I threw the towel rail back into the room, lifted the extinguisher off the wall and walked to the stairs. I opened the door and listened to the thick humid air sliding down the bannisters. I went down the stairs, weighing the fire extinguisher, trying to decide how hard I was going to have to hit him to knock him out. It wasn't so long ago that I'd killed a man with a lavatory and I wasn't keen to repeat that with another household appliance.
I opened the door and stepped back into the dark shadow of a corner. At the junction with the main corridor was a single downlighter which dropped a cone of light on to the apex. I heard a couple giggling down the corridor and the sound of key tags knocking
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