Read Online Constantine Legacy (Jake Dillon Adventure Series) by Andrew Towning - Free Book Online

Harry has just made us the most outrageous
cocktail with…” Harry broke in, his voice taking on
a reprimanding tone, “Now you promised that the
ingredients would remain our little secret, Fiona.” His
hand patted her bottom softly.
“That’s an un-American activity,” said Fiona.
“Oh no,” said Harry, “we still got a couple of
things that have to be done by hand.”
George Ferdinand apologised profusely to Harry
about having to leave early, telling him that he had a little
business to take care of. I caught his attention for just
a fraction of a second. There was something odd about
the way, when under a little pressure, his eyes never
stayed still, flitting in all directions. There was constant
perspiration on his upper lip and forehead.
Since meeting him five hours ago my opinion
hadn’t changed; this man was not to be trusted.
The waves were tripping over, crashing on to
and falling through the foamy, hissing remnants of their
predecessors. I wondered how long before we would
begin doing the same?

Chapter 7
    Rumple’s ruddy colour had returned to his cheeks.
He was perched on a chair by the French doors that
opened out to the garden, checking over and cleaning his
dive equipment. Mrs Rumple looked up from her typing
as we came into the room. We, however, all looked a little
worse for wear after several of Harry Caplin’s cocktails.
    Rumple came over to me and said, “I caught a chap
snooping around the front gates earlier, sir. An unsavoury
character if ever I saw one. When I asked him what he
thought he was doing snooping around, he said that he
had an appointment to see you. To be honest, sir, I didn’t
believe him and challenged him further by walking down
to where he was stood.”
    “Unfortunately, before I got to him he’d jumped
into his car, wound the side window down and before
driving off; he said to tell you to be at La Café, the one
down by the beach, at nine o’clock sharp.”
    “Did he now, well I certainly didn’t have any
appointments today because no one knows that I’m here.
Did he give his name Rumple?”
    “No sir. Unfortunately he went off down the road
like a shot out of a gun. But I’d recognise him alright”
“Go on then man; tell me, what did he look like?”
I said impatiently.
“Well, sir, he was tall with smarmed hair parted
down the middle, I’d say he was late forties, possibly
early fifties. He had a thin long face and a complexion
that looked like a lunar landscape on a very bad day.”
I showered and put on a change of clothes. Before
going back downstairs, I made sure the automatic pistol
now holstered under my arm was completely concealed.
Satisfied, I went down to tell the others what to do if for
any reason I didn’t phone in on the hour, every hour.
I pulled the Mercedes into the car park of La Café.
In the far corner I spotted the blue Porsche, the registration
was the same as the car that had recently followed me all
the way from Bournemouth to London. Owned by Mr
Robert Flackyard.
“Good evening, Mr Dillon - so good of you to
join me.” The voice was familiar yet the tone was now
cruel and cold. His words hung in mid air, suspended on
invisible wires.
I slowly turned to greet the darting eyes and sweaty
face of George Ferdinand, who was sat at a small circular
table overlooking the water. A handful of people were
sitting at the bar talking and laughing loudly, as people
do when they’ve had too much to drink. Otherwise the
café was virtually empty.
I spoke with deliberate nonchalant slowness.
“Well, well, Mr Ferdinand - what a pleasure, we
meet again so soon. Why am I not surprised to see you?
Is this the little bit of business you had to take care of?” I
noticed the small automatic laid on his lap partly covered
by his jacket. He stroked the silenced barrel slowly up and
down as if it were some sort of phallic. His eyes darted up
at me and caught me looking at it.
“I have no wish to