Free The Tightrope Men / The Enemy by Desmond Bagley Page B

other side of the table.
    Mrs Hansen! He could bear to know more about that. He stretched out his hand slowly and picked up the handbag, which was curiously heavy. Holding it on his lap, below the level of the table, he snapped open the catch and bent his head to look inside.
    When Diana came back the bag was back in its place. She sat down, picked it up, and took out a packet of cigarettes. ‘Still not smoking, Harry?’
    He shook his head. ‘They still taste foul.’
    Soon thereafter he signed the bill and they left, parting in the lobby, he to go to bed and she to go to wherever she lived. He had decided against making a pass at Mrs Diana Hansen because it was most unlikely that Dr Harold Feltham Meyrick would be having an affaire with a woman who carried a gun - even if it was only a small gun.

TEN
    The next day was boring. He obeyed instructions and stayed in the hotel waiting to hear from McCready. He breakfasted in his room and ordered English newspapers. Nothing had changed—the news was as bad as ever.
    At mid-morning he left the room to allow the maid to clean up, and went down to the lobby where he saw the Kidders at the porter’s desk. He hung back, taking an inordinate interest in a showcase full of Norwegian silver, while Kidder discussed in a loud voice the possibilities of different bus tours. Finally they left the hotel and he came out of cover.
    He discovered that the bookshop on the corner of the street had a convenient entrance inside the hotel, so he bought a stack of English paperbacks and took them to his room. He read for the rest of the day, gutting the books, his mind in low gear. He had a curious reluctance to think about his present predicament and, once, when he put a book aside and tried to think coherently, his mind skittered about and he felt the unreasoning panic come over him. When he picked up the book again his head was aching.
    At ten that night no contact had been made and he thought of ringing the Embassy and asking for McCready but the strange disinclination to thought had spread toaction and he was irresolute. He looked at the telephone for a while, and then slowly undressed and went to bed.
    He was almost asleep when there was a tap at his door. He sat up and listened and it came again, a discreet double knock. He switched on the light and put on Meyrick’s bathrobe, then went to the door. It was McCready, who came in quickly and closed the door behind him. ‘Ready for the doctor?’ he asked.
    Denison frowned. ‘At this time of night?’
    ‘Why not?’ asked McCready lightly.
    Denison sighed. It was just one more mystery to add to the others. He reached for his underwear and took off the bathrobe. McCready picked up the pyjamas which were lying neatly folded on top of the suitcase. ‘You don’t wear these?’
    ‘Meyrick did.’ Denison sat on the edge of the bed to put on his socks. ‘I don’t.’
    ‘Oh!’ McCready thoughtfully tugged at his ear.
    When Denison picked up his jacket he turned to McCready. ‘There’s something you ought to know, I suppose. Diana Hansen carries…’
    ‘Who?’ asked McCready.
    ‘The redhead I took to dinner—her name is Diana Hansen. She carries a gun.’
    McCready went still. ‘She does? How do you know?’
    ‘I looked in her handbag.’
    ‘Enterprising of you. I’ll tell Carey—he’ll be interested.’ McCready took Denison by the arm. ‘Let’s go.’
    McCready’s car was in the garage and when he drove out into the street he turned left which Denison knew was away from the Embassy. ‘Where are we going?’
    ‘Not far,’ said McCready. ‘Five minutes. Possess your soul in patience.’
    Within two minutes Denison was lost. The car twisted and turned in the strange streets until his sense of directiondeserted him. Whether McCready was deliberately confusing him he did not know, but he thought it likely. Another possibility was that McCready was intent on shaking off any possible followers.
    After a few minutes the car