Read Online The Blue Ring by A. J. Quinnell - Free Book Online
Authors: A. J. Quinnell
Tags: thriller, Literature & Fiction, Thrillers, Action & Adventure, Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, Thrillers & Suspense, Thriller & Suspense
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hospital.
His mind was confused. He felt like a fledgling bird who had tumbled out of the
nest and was flapping its wings but still descending rapidly. Sure he was
tough. Hard as a nail. Trained to perfection. He looked at the Dane, who looked
back at him with an expression of respect. Tomorrow, Michael thought, tomorrow
I phone Blondie and pass on all the information so she will tell Creasy. When
he gets out of hospital he will come down here and let me do what I have to do,
but be there in the shadows, just in case...tomorrow.
Inspector
Corelli took the call just after three o'clock. He listened to Jens and said,
"Wait just a minute." He tapped the keys on his PC, looked at the
screen and said, "They both go to a private school, called Ecole St Jean.
It's a boarding school in Switzerland just outside Geneva. Naturally very
exclusive and expensive. Anything else you need?"
Jens
said, "No, thanks very much. I'll call you in a few days." He put
down the phone and turned to Michael. They were back in the apartment.
"The kids are both in an exclusive boarding school in Switzerland. They
probably come home for weekends. I can check that out if necessary."
Michael
shook his head.
"No,
it's only Tuesday now. We can't wait that long. It has to be the mistress.
We'll check her out tonight...or maybe it's better if I go alone?"
"No,"
Jens said emphatically. "I've been thinking about it. I'll go with you.
Nothing's going to happen tonight." He gestured at the dining-table.
"Do we take the guns?" They were lying side by side. Two black nine
millimetre Berettas.
"No,"
Michael answered. "The club will have bouncers and doormen and with that
kind of club they often frisk the customers."
"They
don't in Copenhagen."
Michael
smiled. "This is not Copenhagen."
In his
office Inspector Corelli had also hung up. For several minutes he sat looking
thoughtfully at the phone. Then he picked it up, punched the number and held a
three minute conversation, at the end of which he gave a detailed,
policeman-like description of Jens and Michael.
Chapter 14
The
suite of offices was typical of a small, individual, highly successful
business. A severely attractive, middle-aged secretary sat in the outer office,
working at a computer console. Opposite her were a coffee-table and three
comfortable leather chairs. There were original oil paintings on the walls
depicting seascapes. It had been six years since Creasy had been in that office
in Marseille. As he walked in through the door the secretary glanced up and
then back at her console. She then did a complete double take, jerking upright
in her seat, a look of astonishment on her face.
"I
thought you were dead," she stammered.
"Yes.
I sort of came back to life." He gestured at the door to the inner office.
"Is he in?"
She had
recovered her composure. "Yes. But he has someone with him." She
reached for the phone. "I'll tell him you're here."
He
shook his head. "No, I'll wait. Any chance of a coffee?"
She
stood up and bustled over to a percolator in the corner. When he tasted the
coffee he looked up and said approvingly, "What a memory you have. It's
been about six years since I was in this office and you remembered that I don't
take milk or sugar."
She
smiled at the compliment, at the same time thinking that this was a man nobody
would forget. She wondered what her boss' reaction would be when he set eyes on
him.
It
happened about two minutes later. A very dark negro wearing a well-cut suit
came through followed by Leclerc, who was saying, "You'll have my fax on
Thursday but, believe me, the prices will be final and the letter of credit is
essential."
At that moment Leclerc's eyes found Creasy. He paused briefly in his stride but his
face showed nothing. Leclerc had always been a good poker player.
The negro was ushered out and Creasy stood up. Leclerc turned and the two men
studied each other in silence. Leclerc was about Creasy's age, tall, florid,
running slightly to fat. Dressed
His mind was confused. He felt like a fledgling bird who had tumbled out of the
nest and was flapping its wings but still descending rapidly. Sure he was
tough. Hard as a nail. Trained to perfection. He looked at the Dane, who looked
back at him with an expression of respect. Tomorrow, Michael thought, tomorrow
I phone Blondie and pass on all the information so she will tell Creasy. When
he gets out of hospital he will come down here and let me do what I have to do,
but be there in the shadows, just in case...tomorrow.
Inspector
Corelli took the call just after three o'clock. He listened to Jens and said,
"Wait just a minute." He tapped the keys on his PC, looked at the
screen and said, "They both go to a private school, called Ecole St Jean.
It's a boarding school in Switzerland just outside Geneva. Naturally very
exclusive and expensive. Anything else you need?"
Jens
said, "No, thanks very much. I'll call you in a few days." He put
down the phone and turned to Michael. They were back in the apartment.
"The kids are both in an exclusive boarding school in Switzerland. They
probably come home for weekends. I can check that out if necessary."
Michael
shook his head.
"No,
it's only Tuesday now. We can't wait that long. It has to be the mistress.
We'll check her out tonight...or maybe it's better if I go alone?"
"No,"
Jens said emphatically. "I've been thinking about it. I'll go with you.
Nothing's going to happen tonight." He gestured at the dining-table.
"Do we take the guns?" They were lying side by side. Two black nine
millimetre Berettas.
"No,"
Michael answered. "The club will have bouncers and doormen and with that
kind of club they often frisk the customers."
"They
don't in Copenhagen."
Michael
smiled. "This is not Copenhagen."
In his
office Inspector Corelli had also hung up. For several minutes he sat looking
thoughtfully at the phone. Then he picked it up, punched the number and held a
three minute conversation, at the end of which he gave a detailed,
policeman-like description of Jens and Michael.
Chapter 14
The
suite of offices was typical of a small, individual, highly successful
business. A severely attractive, middle-aged secretary sat in the outer office,
working at a computer console. Opposite her were a coffee-table and three
comfortable leather chairs. There were original oil paintings on the walls
depicting seascapes. It had been six years since Creasy had been in that office
in Marseille. As he walked in through the door the secretary glanced up and
then back at her console. She then did a complete double take, jerking upright
in her seat, a look of astonishment on her face.
"I
thought you were dead," she stammered.
"Yes.
I sort of came back to life." He gestured at the door to the inner office.
"Is he in?"
She had
recovered her composure. "Yes. But he has someone with him." She
reached for the phone. "I'll tell him you're here."
He
shook his head. "No, I'll wait. Any chance of a coffee?"
She
stood up and bustled over to a percolator in the corner. When he tasted the
coffee he looked up and said approvingly, "What a memory you have. It's
been about six years since I was in this office and you remembered that I don't
take milk or sugar."
She
smiled at the compliment, at the same time thinking that this was a man nobody
would forget. She wondered what her boss' reaction would be when he set eyes on
him.
It
happened about two minutes later. A very dark negro wearing a well-cut suit
came through followed by Leclerc, who was saying, "You'll have my fax on
Thursday but, believe me, the prices will be final and the letter of credit is
essential."
At that moment Leclerc's eyes found Creasy. He paused briefly in his stride but his
face showed nothing. Leclerc had always been a good poker player.
The negro was ushered out and Creasy stood up. Leclerc turned and the two men
studied each other in silence. Leclerc was about Creasy's age, tall, florid,
running slightly to fat. Dressed
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