Read Online Nemesis of the Dead by Frances Lloyd - Free Book Online Page B

policies, mostly.’ She smiled. ‘Handy, really, because I was able to get him well insured before his heart complaint was diagnosed.’
    The flamenco had developed into a Paso Doble. Diana held out her skirt like a matador’s cape and Sid, holding two forks against his head for the bull’s horns, bent down, pawed the ground and charged at it. His aim, impaired by several glasses of wine, was well off and he missed the target by miles. Head down, he carried on galloping and, as he shot past the end of the table, one of the forks caught in Ambrose’s toupee and whipped it clean off.
    Diana collapsed in hysterics, as did most people including the dour bouzoúki players. Sheepishly, Sid held out the fork to Ambrose with the wig hanging upside down from the prongs like a hairy brown bat.
    ‘Sorry, mate. It must have been loose. I expect the heat melted the glue.’
    Furious, Ambrose snatched it and stomped off inside the hotel and up to his room, presumably to gum it back on. Marjorie followed him.
    It was one o’clock before the party broke up and people began drifting off to bed. Corrie was still giggling as they climbed the winding stairs.
    ‘Did you see Ambrose? He was livid.’
    ‘I know,’ said Jack. ‘I kept wanting to shout “keep your hair on”.’
    ‘No sense of humour at all,’ chortled Corrie. ‘He had a face like a smacked …’ she stopped and put a finger to her lips, pulling Jack back into a darkened recess in the stairs, out of sight.
    The sounds of heavy breathing and urgent whispers were coming from the landing above and intuition told her this was not a good time to barge through.
    ‘Come on, love, I know you want it. You’ve been asking for it ever since you got here – going around half-naked, flaunting everything you’ve got. Well, how about it, then?’
    Jack and Corrie looked at each other, shocked. The man had lowered his voice to a hoarse whisper, but it was unmistakable nevertheless.
    The now familiar Manhattan drawl came back, cool and unperturbed, with an edge of contempt. ‘If you don’t take your hand off my tit, you sad old creep, I’ll deck you.’
    They heard a scuffle and Jack made a move to climb the stairs and intervene but Corrie stopped him. She suspected a woman like Diana would have handled similar situations many times before and with consummate ease, so it would be less embarrassing all round if she sorted it on her own without witnesses. The man whispered again, this time louder and with more insistence.
    ‘You know you don’t mean that, sweetheart. Women are all the same – saying “no” when they really mean “yes”. You’re gagging for it really. Just let me feel under that skirt and I’ll soon show you what I can—’
    There was the sound of a slap and the wheedling whisper turned into angry abuse. The voice was panting with pent-up sexual excitement.
    ‘Don’t come the virtuous wife with me, you gold-digging little tart. I’ve watched you, teasing and flirting and playing hard to get. Well, you’ve asked for it and now you’re going to get it …’
    There was a scream of pain. Seconds later, Ambrose Dobson limped past them down the stairs in a half-crouch, his hands between his legs.
    ‘If that was his best chat-up line,’ whispered Jack laconically, ‘it didn’t work.’
    Then Diana appeared from the shadows, calmly smoothing down her skirt. She rubbed her knee briefly, then sashayed elegantly along the landing, hips swaying, and disappeared into the room she shared with the professor.
    ‘I don’t believe that man!’ exploded Corrie. ‘This isn’t even his floor. He must have been purposely lying in wait for her. Not only is he an insufferable, hypocritical pig, he’s a dirty old man as well. Treating his wife like a servant then trying it on with Diana behind her back.’
    ‘He has to be the world’s biggest optimist,’ said Jack. ‘I’ve never understood what makes blokes like that think they’re even in with a