Read Online In the Hour Before Midnight by Jack Higgins - Free Book Online

afternoon. I didn’t know.”
    She’d spoken in Italian and I replied in kind. “Didn’t know what?”
    â€œOh, about you. That your mother was Sicilian.”
    â€œAnd who told you that?”
    â€œColonel Burke.”
    â€œLife’s just full of surprises, isn’t it?” I said. “Shall we join the others?”
    â€œAs you wish.”
    I think she took it as some kind of dismissal, but she certainly didn’t seem annoyed, although I suppose a woman in her position can seldom afford the luxury of that kind of emotion.
    Hoffer and Burke had moved to a small illuminated patio where another fountain which was an exact duplicate of the first lifted into the night. They were sitting at a wrought iron table and rose to greet me.
    Hoffer had the kind of out-of-season tan that usually argues a lamp or, more rarely, someonerich enough to follow the sun. On closer acquaintance, he was older than I had imagined, his face a network of fine seams and in spite of the ready smile, there was little joy in the china blue eyes.
    We shook hands and he waved me to a seat. “Sorry I wasn’t here when you got in. I’m having to run down to Gela three or four times a week now. You know the oil game.”
    I didn’t, but I remembered Gela, a Greek colony in classic times, mainly as a pleasant little coastal town on the other side of the island with some interesting archaeological remains. I wondered how the derricks and refineries were fitting in and accepted a large vodka and tonic from Rosa.
    She dismissed the houseboy and served us herself, dropping unobtrusively into a chair in the background when she had finished which seemed to indicate that Hoffer trusted her all the way—something I’d been wrong about.
    He certainly didn’t waste any time in getting down to business. “Mr. Wyatt, Colonel Burke recommended you highly for this job which is why we went to so much trouble to get you out.”
    â€œThat was real nice of him,” I said and the irony was in my voice for all to hear.
    Except Hoffer, apparently, who carried on. “In fact I don’t think it’s overdoing it to say that we’re all depending on you, boy.”
    He put a hand on my knee which I didn’t like and there was the sort of edge to his voice that you get with the kind of American wheat-belt politician who’s trying to persuade you he’s just folks after all. Any minute now I expected him to break into a chorus of “I believe in you” and I couldn’t have that.
    â€œLet’s get one thing straight, Mr. Hoffer. I’m here for twenty-five thousand dollars plus expenses in advance.”
    He straightened abruptly, the head went back, the eyes hardened into chips of blue glass. I expected him to argue about the terms because Burke actually looked alarmed and moved in fast.
    â€œI’m sorry about this, Mr. Hoffer. Stacey doesn’t realise . . .”
    Hoffer cut him off with a motion of one hand that was like a sword falling. “Never mind. I like a man who knows his own mind. So long as we all know where we stand.”
    He was another man—hard, competent with the kind of ruthless edge he would have needed to get where he was. Even his physical movements were different. He snapped his fingers for another drink and Rosa Solazzo came running.
    â€œHalf in advance,” he said. “To you and Burke.”
    â€œAnd if we fail to get the girl out?”
    â€œYou’re that much ahead of the game.”
    â€œAnd the other two?”
    â€œYour affair.”
    Burke was frowning, mainly, I suppose, because he felt he was being cut out of things. He nodded slightly, which surprised me—or did it really?
    In any event I shook my head and said to Hoffer, “Not good enough. Jaeger and Legrande get the same terms or we don’t go.”
    He didn’t even argue. “All right. I’ll let you have a cheque you