Free Cross of Fire by Colin Forbes Page A

round the end of the grey apartment block inside an alley leading to a courtyard. He parked the car out of sight of the street.
    She was waiting for him, one of the huge tall double doors unlocked, closed it behind him and led the way across an interior yard. The apartment was on the first floor at the top of a flight of bleak stone steps. He realized it overlooked the street when she ushered him inside. Lace curtains masked the tall windows.
    'Don't switch on any lights in here,' he warned.
    'OK. But why?'
    'The place will look empty from the street. We need somewhere not overlooking it.'
    'The kitchen. Then we can have more coffee ...'
    He perched on a stool at an island unit after taking off his trench coat. Underneath he wore an English business suit, a blue bird's-eye. The kitchen was a different world from the living room which was furnished with heavy, old- fashioned furniture; it was equipped with the latest facilities, including a hood over the cooker. He opened his onslaught when she had placed a brown mug of steaming coffee in front of him, had settled herself on a stool facing her guest.
    'How many people knew of your friendship with Henri?'
    'No one really. I told you I have few friends.'
    'What about your mother?'
    'Not her.' She made a move. 'We don't see eye to eye on many things. I never let her know what happened. She would have criticized my choice of a barman.' She warmed her hands round her mug, shapely hands. 'I did think it funny that Henri was just a barman - he seemed so intelli gent. When I said so he shrugged, said he was travelling round France to get experience of the world.'
    'Are you actually saying that no one else in the whole world knew about you and Henri?'
    'Yes. When we went out he asked me to choose places to eat I'd never been before. I didn't ask him why.'
    'Someone must have betrayed Henri to the DST. From what you've said you're the only one who could have done that.'
    Her face flushed. She stared at Newman as though un able to believe her ears. Newman stared back as she continued.
    'How much did they pay you for your services?'
    Her hand tightened on the handle of her mug. For a moment he thought he was going to get the contents in his face and prepared to duck.
    'You swine!' she hissed in her well modulated voice. 'I could kill you for what you've just said. Why? in the name of God, why do you say such terrible things?'
    'Because you're the obvious betrayer. Making up to him, gaining his confidence - when all the time you were an agent of the DST...'
    She slipped off her stool, ran round the island. On the way she tipped the contents of her mug into the sink. She was slimly built, almost as tall as Newman, wore a miniskirt which exposed her excellent legs. She came at him like a tigress.
    He stood upright just in time as she aimed the mug to smash it against his head. He grabbed her arms, forced them to her sides, surprised at her strength, her agility. She aimed her knee at his groin, he took the thrust in the side of his leg, held her prisoner until she stopped struggling, breath ing heavily.
    'And you're a damned good actress, I'll give you that,' he goaded her.
    She dipped her titian-maned head, prepared to butt him under the chin. He swivelled her through a hundred and eighty degrees, holding her arms against her sides, his head pushing against hers, pressing himself into her back. A faint whiff of perfume drifted to his nostrils. She relaxed, unable to fight any more. Her voice was controlled now, loaded with venom.
    'Get out of here,' she ordered him. 'I never want to see you again. I thought you were a friend ...'
    'I am.' he said quietly, his mouth close to her ear, 'but I had to be sure of you. To test you to breaking point. I believe you now, Isabelle. Sorry I upset you, but I repeat, I had to be certain of you.'
    She relaxed in his arms completely. Her tone held a hint of amusement.
    'Maybe you'd better let me go. If anyone came in and found us like this they'd think we