Free The Dead Lie Down (Adam Lennox Thrillers: Book One) by G I Tulloch

soon as Adam and Bel get involved they receive threats to their lives. So what
on earth did John find on the ship? And who was the dead man?
    He badly needed to speak to John again, the world was becoming an unstable
place.

Chapter 11
    The man in the bed stirred restlessly, causing the man in the chair to rise to
his feet hastily. He pushed aside the mosquito net, and watched the old man's
face as he checked his pulse for the umpteenth time that night. The old man
opened his eyes.
    "I'm not dead yet damn you." There was surprising strength in his voice compared
to his apparent physical condition. Sweat ran down his forehead plastering
thinning hair to his scalp on the way. His eyes didn't quite focus as he scanned
around him.
    Cane furniture was scattered around the room in a haphazard sort of fashion. The
walls showed evidence of once having had paint on them but now they had a
distempered sort of look that would soon peel away to a jigsaw puzzle of flaking
colour. The windows, shuttered but uncurtained, allowed a hint of the city
lights of Bangkok to occasionally break through the trees outside the window.
The wet season had brought the humidity and the discomfort to a high that even
the archaic air conditioning didn't seem to temper. When the electricity failed,
which it regularly did, you could bathe in your own sweat. Both men had been
there long enough get be used to it and still they resented it.
    He gazed across the room to a clock that his eyes couldn't read. "What's the
time?"
    His attendant didn't need to look. "It's half past two".
    The old man didn't appear to hear.
    "You shouldn't have come Frank. I told you to stay at home."
    Frank smiled. "My home's with you. Always has been". He didn't point out that
that was twenty six years ago.
    It brought a lop-sided smile to the old man's face. "You're a bad liar but a
very good friend Frank. I'll make it up to you, you see if I don't."
    Frank's smile was becoming a fixture but it didn't seem to worry him.
    Their conversation was a slow one punctuated by long silences. At four o'clock
just when he thought that the old man had drifted off again there was a movement
from the bed.
    "Any news from England yet Frank."
    "I haven't heard anything today except that the Stock Exchange is fighting off
yet another take-over bid." Frank knew it wasn't the sort of news he was looking
for but they wouldn't neglect ties with the old country. "I'll phone them later
and see if I can get the football scores."
    That
brought a brief smile from the bed but obvious pain dampened it almost
immediately and the sadness in the eyes returned. With some effort he spoke
again and the measured intonation implied this was no ad lib speech.
    "I've killed too many in my time Frank. Hurt too many. Didn't want to but
couldn't stop it. I didn't have any option." Shortness of breath overcame him
for a few moments. "I took the only way out Frank. Tried to do the honourable
thing in the end, but I don't know if it was right. Was it right Frank?" He
didn't wait for a response as if eager to get this confession out of the way. "I
don't know. I had to make a decision and they were after me. They knew. That's
why I had to kill Granger Bartlett, you realise that don't you?"
    The effort was becoming too great now and he seemed to succumb to the fatigue as
his eyes closed and his breathing eased.
    Frank rose from the bed and moved through into the other room of the
three-bedroomed apartment. Years ago they had had a villa with a dozen rooms
but things had got harder and now the end seemed in sight.
    He picked up the phone, hesitated in order to confirm that there was a dialling
tone and dialled the UK number.
    Response at the other end was quick as if the call was expected.
    "Frank?" The voice, middle aged male with a vague Yorkshire accent was bright
and chirpy. Too chirpy for Frank.
    "Yes, it's me. He's not too good today. I think he's slowly sliding downhill.
He's accepted