Read Online River of Death by Alistair MacLean - Free Book Online

neighbouring country of Egypt, which went in for the smooth-sided and conically-topped version, but turned up again in ancient Mexico where some are still to be seen. Archaeologists and such-like use this as a powerful argument of prehistoric contact between east and west but the only sure fact is that their origins are lost in the mists of those same prehistoric times. My word, Mr Smith, this is going to drive those poor archaeologists up the wall. A ziggurat in the Mato Grosso.’
    ‘Ricardo?’ Hamilton said. ‘I shall be leaving our friend’s place in about two hours’ time. I’ll be driving—moment.’ He broke off and turned to Ramon lounging on the couch in the Imperial Suite. ‘Ramon, what shall I be driving?’
    ‘Black Cadillac.’
    ‘A black Cadillac,’ Hamilton said into the phone. ‘I do not wish to be followed. Thank you.’

CHAPTER THREE
    There were six people in Smith’s drawing-room that sunny afternoon—Smith himself, Tracy, Maria, Hiller, Serrano and Hamilton. All had glasses in their hands.
    ‘Another?’ said Smith. His hand reached out to touch the button that would summon the butler.
    Hamilton said: ‘I’d rather talk.’
    Smith raised an eyebrow in slight if genuine astonishment. Not only had he heard from Hiller of Hamilton’s reputation as a hard drinker, but his slightest suggestion was usually treated as a royal command. He withdrew his hand from the buzzer.
    ‘As you wish. So we are agreed on the purpose of our visit. I tell you, Hamilton, I have done many things in the past that have given me a great deal of pleasure, but I’ve never been so excited—’
    Hamilton interrupted him, something no-one ever did to Smith. ‘Let’s get down to details.’
    ‘By God, you
are
in a hurry. I’d have thought that after four years—’
    ‘It’s a lot longer than that. But even after only four years a man starts to become a little impatient.’ He pointed towards Maria and Tracy. People never pointed in Smith’s drawing-room. ‘Who are they?’
    ‘We all know your rough diamond reputation, Hamilton.’ When Smith chose to use a cold tone he could do so most effectively. ‘But there’s no need to be rude.’
    Hamilton shook his head. ‘Not rude. Just a man, as you observed, in a hurry. I just like to check on the company I’m keeping. As you do.’
    ‘As I do?’ Again the eyebrow. ‘My dear fellow, if you would kindly explain—’
    ‘And that’s another thing,’ Hamilton said. That made it twice in thirty seconds that Smith had been interrupted, which must have constituted some sort of a record. ‘I don’t like being condescended to. I am not your dear fellow. I am not, as you may come to learn, anybody’s dear fellow. As you do, I said. Check up. Or perhaps you don’t know the identity of the person who rang the Grand Hotel to see if I was actually staying there?’
    It was a guess, but in the circumstances a safe one, and the flickered glance between Smith and Tracy was all the confirmation Hamilton required. He nodded towards Tracy.
    ‘See what I mean?’ Hamilton said. ‘That’s the nosey bastard. Who is he?’
    ‘You would insult my guests, Hamilton?’ Smith’s tone was now positively arctic.
    I don’t much care who I insult—or should I say “whom”? He’s still a nosey bastard. Another thing, when I ask questions about people I do it honestly and in the open, not behind their backs. Who is he?’
    ‘Tracy,’ Smith said stiffly, ‘is the managing director of McCormick-Mackenzie International Publications Division.’ Hamilton looked unimpressed. ‘Maria is my confidential secretary and, I might add, a close personal friend.’
    Hamilton looked away from Tracy and Maria almost as if he had already dismissed them from his mind as being of no importance. ‘I’m not interested in your relationships. My fee.’
    Smith was obviously taken aback. Gentlemen did not discuss business negotiations in this crude and abrupt fashion. Momentarily, his