Free Aftershock by Sam Fisher Page B

half-recognised him from the pages of the New York Times financial section. He was a banker, he recalled, someone important at Deutsche Bank. Next to the banker sat Hilary Xavier. She had arrived 10 minutes late. Jim thought she looked ill; her face was unnaturally gaunt as though she hadn’t slept properly in a long time. Alfred sat to her left and had been trying hard to make conversation, without much success. On Alfred’s other side was Johnny Xavier, dressed in an immaculate dinner suit. He was a good-looking man, Jim thought, but he had a hard face and an unpleasant air of self-absorption. He looked like a bad actor. Johnny, Jim decided, had secrets – nasty secrets.
    Jim turned from Johnny Xavier to the person who sat between them, an elegant woman in her sixties. She had told him her name was Sheila Hoffman and that her husband, Felix, was the architect who designed the hotel. He had been involved in a car crash a week earlier and, as much as he would have loved to be here, his doctor had forbidden it.
    â€˜So, shouldn’t you be out in front of the camera, Harry?’ Jim asked, turning to the journalist on his left. The man, he
    noted, had single-handedly demolished two bottles of red over dinner.
    â€˜Later,’ Harry replied, draining his glass and refilling it. ‘My crew are busy though. See over there?’ He pointed to a spot on the far side of the stage where a cameraman was filming the room.
    â€˜Must be a very glamourous job,’ Jim said.
    Harry raised his eyebrows. ‘Can be, but not often, truth be told. Mainly involves a lot of sitting around and waiting, then a quick burst of activity and you’re supposed to remember your lines.’ He laughed good-naturedly. ‘Mind you,’ he added, ‘can’t complain about gigs like this.’ And he raised his glass, clinking it with Jim’s.
    Jim turned to Sheila Hoffman and was about to say something when he realised the music for the dance troupe had faded. A moment later, a familiar voice came over the PA.
    â€˜Ladies and gentlemen. Good evening.’ There was a murmur from the diners and all heads turned towards the stage to see Hollywood legend Danny Preston dressed in an elegant tux and holding a microphone.
    â€˜God! It’s a talking fossil,’ Harry said in Jim’s ear.
    Jim produced a faint smile and sat back in his chair, arms folded.
    â€˜Well, ain’t this something? I always wanted to play a part in a sci-fi movie,’ Preston said, and beamed at the audience. ‘The closest I got was in my first film, when I played the part of a telepathic cactus. Even I’ve forgotten the title of that one.’
    The audience laughed. Preston gazed around at the guests, pausing for a moment. ‘But this.’ And he waved towards the expansive view beyond the glass walls. ‘This is science fiction come to life. I’ve been here most of the day, ladies and gentlemen, but I can still hardly believe my eyes. It truly is a new wonder of the world.
    â€˜Now, I won’t prattle on. My job here is to introduce the star of the evening and then buzz off. I’m told a glass of Dom Perignon awaits.’
    A ripple of laughter.
    â€˜Ladies and gentlemen. There are few stars who can claim to be truly global superstars, but tonight, the Xavier family have arranged a special treat. A young woman, who had her first hit when she was just 16. It is hard to believe that was only three years ago because it feels as though her name has been known around the world for so much longer. I give you ... Kristy Sunshine!’
    There was a sharp tap on Johnny Xavier’s shoulder. He turned to see a short, solidly built man with greying hair and a lined, tanned face. It was one of his senior engineers, Miguel Bandonis.
    â€˜Sorry to bother you, sir,’ the man said. ‘I couldn’t reach you by phone.’ He waved a hand in the air to indicate the noise.
    â€˜What’s