Free The Blue Ring by A. J. Quinnell Page A

immediately.
    She
said, "Yves, they are here...Yes, they fit the description exactly."
She listened for a moment and glanced at her watch and said, "OK, about
halfway into the floor-show." She hung up, pushed herself away from the
desk and moved towards the door.
    Michael
and Jens' heads moved in unison to the left as she appeared from the recessed
door. She came towards them smiling, knowing the effect she had on them, the
effect she had on all men who were not senile or gay.
    She
held out her hand to the blond, saying, "Welcome to The Pink Panther. I'm
Denise, the manageress." She squeezed his hand and he squeezed hers in
return, looking slightly flustered. She withdrew her hand, reached across him
and shook the young man's hand and also squeezed it. He did not squeeze hers
and he did not look flustered, nor did he look at her high breasts. He just
gazed at her face. Not disinterested but not overwhelmed. He was, she decided,
extremely handsome. She chatted with them for several minutes, asking the usual
questions and then explaining that if they wanted company it was readily
available, and intimating that such company could become very intimate indeed
in other, more private parts of the club upstairs.
    "We
have a very good floor-show here at midnight," she said. "But at one
o'clock we have a more...how shall I say it? A more erotic show. In fact, a
very erotic show upstairs. Usually that's reserved for only those customers who
have hired a hostess, but since this is your first visit you'll be my personal
guests."
    Jens
started to say something, but Michael cut in. "That's very kind of you.
We'd be honoured."
    She
smiled and gave him a look that sent him a definite promise. She said,
"I'll come to collect you just before one o'clock."
    She turned
and walked back to the recessed door. Both men watched her swaying bottom and
then Jens murmured, "Do you want to see a sex show? I did three years in
the Vice Squad in Copenhagen and I can tell you they're not very erotic."
    Equally
quietly, Michael replied, "It's necessary. I need to see as much of this
building as possible, so I can draw up a plan for the 'snatch'."
    The
Dane nodded, and then said, "I'm not surprised you want to take her rather
than one of the kids."

Chapter 16
    In some
respects Serge Corelli did not have the same natural instincts as Jens Jensen.
He did not realise he was being followed. He left the office late, just after
seven o'clock, driving out of the basement garage in his red Renault 19. He
never brought his Mercedes 600 to the office.
    He did
not notice the rented Citroen across the road which moved out into the traffic
behind him. He drove to the O'Berry Bar on Rue de l'Eveche and parked
outside a No Parking zone. He did not bother locking it; every petty thief in
Marseille knew whose it was. A minute later he was drinking the first of his
regular vodka tonics and chatting to the heavy-breasted barmaid with whom
he'd had a brief fling some years before. He drank until nine o'clock,
then belatedly rang his wife and told her he had to stay out to dinner on
business. He drove four blocks to the Rue de Lorette and parked in the alley
beside the Chez Etienne restaurant, again leaving the car unlocked. He ate a
leisurely dinner of vegetable soup, fillet steak with truffles and potnme
souffle, followed by crepes suzettes flambees, all washed down with a bottle of
Chateau Margaux. He then had coffee and a vintage Cognac. It was an expensive
restaurant but when he rose from the table just before midnight he received no
bill. The owner merely shook him deferentially by the hand.
    It was
dark in the alley and, even though he could hold his liquor well, Inspector
Serge Corelli was a little unsteady. He opened the door to the Renault and
slumped into his seat. He pulled the door shut and reached for the ignition
key. Then he felt something cold on the back of his neck and heard a quiet
voice speaking in fluent, accentless French.
    "This
is a Colt 1911 with a