Read Online Comes the Dark Stranger by Jack Higgins - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Jack Higgins
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descended into the crowd. Shane watched him thread his way between the tables and disappear through a door at the side of the stage.
At that moment there was a drum roll and a slim figure appeared on the stage. There was a tremendous burst of cheering from the audience and she paraded along the cat-walk and took up position a few feet away from Shane. Their eyes met and an impudent grin appeared on her face. It was Jenny Green.
She winked and Shane concealed his astonishment and waved to her. She was wearing black fishnet stockings and very little else. A wisp of gold material around her loins gave her some sort of covering and her breasts were tipped with two gold flowers. A curtain descended over the stage and she began to speak.
It was the usual sort of act. Famous women down through the ages. Each time she announced a name, the curtain rose, disclosing a nude tableau and various fleshy young women did their best to depict Eve in the Garden of Eden, Helen of Troy and others.
The whole thing lasted for about ten minutes and the audience applauded each scene wildly. As the curtain descended on the last tableau, Jennie swivelled round, arms extended and bowed. She looked directly at Shane and smiled and then she turned and ran along the catwalk to the stage and disappeared behind the curtain.
Shane finished his drink and pushed his way through the crowd towards the door at the side of the stage. He opened it and mounted a short flight of steps that carried him into the wings. One or two stage hands lounged against the wall, smoking and chatting. They completely ignored him and he moved past them and mounted a flight of iron stairs.
He came into a corridor, lined with doors and as he walked forward, one of them opened to a burst of laughter and Jenny Green walked out. She turned so quickly they collided and when she looked up at him there was surprise on her face. ‘I run into you everywhere,’ she said.
He grinned. ‘You must have moved fast to get here in time for your show.’
She shrugged. ‘There were a few of the girls there. We came together in a taxi.’ She smiled impishly. ‘You wouldn’t be looking for me, would you?’
He shook his head. ‘Not tonight, Jenny. I’m looking for Reggie Steele.’
She turned and pointed along the corridor. ‘It’s the end door. The one with his name on it. You can’t miss it.’ She grinned. ‘I’ll see you later, handsome,’ and went back into her dressing-room.
He mounted a couple of steps and found himself in another level of the corridor. It was thickly carpeted and facing him was a door on which was inscribed Steele’s name in gold lettering.
For a moment he hesitated, listening for some sound through the half open transom and then he was conscious of a movement behind him and turned quickly.
A tall, broad shouldered man was standing two or three feet away, watching him. Dark, wavy hair curled thickly over his forehead and a puckered scar bisected the right cheek, giving him an oddly sinister appearance.
‘What’s the game, Jack?’ he said.
Shane looked him up and down and said coldly, ‘I’m looking for Mr Steele - Jack.’ An ugly expression appeared in the man’s eyes and Shane turned quickly, opened the door and went in.
The room was decorated in cream and gold and a fire flickered in a superb Adam fireplace. Steele was sitting behind a desk, papers spread out before him and he looked up with a start.
For several moments he and Shane looked steadily into each other’s eyes and then Steele’s mouth twisted into a grin. ‘Hallo, Shane, I’ve been expecting you. What kept you?’
The man behind Shane moved into the room. ‘I found this mug standing outside the door listening, boss,’ he said.
Steele got to his feet and waved one hand. ‘That’s all right, Frenchy. Mr Shane and I are old friends. Very old friends.’ The door closed quietly as Frenchy retreated and they were alone.
Steele went to a cocktail cabinet and lifted a
At that moment there was a drum roll and a slim figure appeared on the stage. There was a tremendous burst of cheering from the audience and she paraded along the cat-walk and took up position a few feet away from Shane. Their eyes met and an impudent grin appeared on her face. It was Jenny Green.
She winked and Shane concealed his astonishment and waved to her. She was wearing black fishnet stockings and very little else. A wisp of gold material around her loins gave her some sort of covering and her breasts were tipped with two gold flowers. A curtain descended over the stage and she began to speak.
It was the usual sort of act. Famous women down through the ages. Each time she announced a name, the curtain rose, disclosing a nude tableau and various fleshy young women did their best to depict Eve in the Garden of Eden, Helen of Troy and others.
The whole thing lasted for about ten minutes and the audience applauded each scene wildly. As the curtain descended on the last tableau, Jennie swivelled round, arms extended and bowed. She looked directly at Shane and smiled and then she turned and ran along the catwalk to the stage and disappeared behind the curtain.
Shane finished his drink and pushed his way through the crowd towards the door at the side of the stage. He opened it and mounted a short flight of steps that carried him into the wings. One or two stage hands lounged against the wall, smoking and chatting. They completely ignored him and he moved past them and mounted a flight of iron stairs.
He came into a corridor, lined with doors and as he walked forward, one of them opened to a burst of laughter and Jenny Green walked out. She turned so quickly they collided and when she looked up at him there was surprise on her face. ‘I run into you everywhere,’ she said.
He grinned. ‘You must have moved fast to get here in time for your show.’
She shrugged. ‘There were a few of the girls there. We came together in a taxi.’ She smiled impishly. ‘You wouldn’t be looking for me, would you?’
He shook his head. ‘Not tonight, Jenny. I’m looking for Reggie Steele.’
She turned and pointed along the corridor. ‘It’s the end door. The one with his name on it. You can’t miss it.’ She grinned. ‘I’ll see you later, handsome,’ and went back into her dressing-room.
He mounted a couple of steps and found himself in another level of the corridor. It was thickly carpeted and facing him was a door on which was inscribed Steele’s name in gold lettering.
For a moment he hesitated, listening for some sound through the half open transom and then he was conscious of a movement behind him and turned quickly.
A tall, broad shouldered man was standing two or three feet away, watching him. Dark, wavy hair curled thickly over his forehead and a puckered scar bisected the right cheek, giving him an oddly sinister appearance.
‘What’s the game, Jack?’ he said.
Shane looked him up and down and said coldly, ‘I’m looking for Mr Steele - Jack.’ An ugly expression appeared in the man’s eyes and Shane turned quickly, opened the door and went in.
The room was decorated in cream and gold and a fire flickered in a superb Adam fireplace. Steele was sitting behind a desk, papers spread out before him and he looked up with a start.
For several moments he and Shane looked steadily into each other’s eyes and then Steele’s mouth twisted into a grin. ‘Hallo, Shane, I’ve been expecting you. What kept you?’
The man behind Shane moved into the room. ‘I found this mug standing outside the door listening, boss,’ he said.
Steele got to his feet and waved one hand. ‘That’s all right, Frenchy. Mr Shane and I are old friends. Very old friends.’ The door closed quietly as Frenchy retreated and they were alone.
Steele went to a cocktail cabinet and lifted a
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