Read Online The Main Chance by Colin Forbes - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Colin Forbes
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and Marler jumped out to feed the meter before she could reach it. Then he grabbed a trolley, waved her forward.
`In the Far East they call the servant who helps, boy.' `Well, boy, I'm a quick shopper so keep moving.' `And I'm ten years younger than you..
She hauled food off the shelves, out of the refrigerated compartments. Soon the large trolley was piled high. She went to the checkout and Marler stared. A man in a white uniform picked up the purchases as they were checked out, then packed them in a series of strong brown paper bags. He then asked which was their car and wheeled the large stock to the front of the Porsche where he placed them neatly in the luggage compartment. Marler reached in his pocket for a generous tip. The helper shook his head.
`Thank you, sir, but we're not allowed to accept tips. We get well paid if we're quick. Excuse me, I see another customer at the checkout'
`Last time I saw that was in California,' Marler commented as he settled in the passenger seat.
`It's a new American food store with American methods.'
She was already driving away from the slot, her speed just below the limit. She slid through a gap in the traffic. A driver of another car shouted at her but she ignored him.
`Going back to California?' she asked.
`I don't think so. Full of blondes with incredibly long legs and not an atom in the brain department'
Arriving back, eventually, at Park Crescent, Paula parked the Porsche in the yard at the back of the building. It was now dusk and they were followed up the stairs by Pete Nield, holding a small black velvet bag tightly in his hand.
All the staff were inside the office. Harry was seated in his usual position, cross-legged on the floor. He was dismantling a Walther, placing the elements in a plastic tray. Tweed waved a hand at his clear desk.
`Dealt with all the reports. Monica took the replies along to the Communications building further along the street. Ah, here's Mr Pete Nield. Took you a while, not that it matters if you've got the answers to my gold queries'
`You'll be fascinated. I had to wait while my contact, who was amazed, took this stuff to another analyst.'
At the reference to the word 'gold' everyone gathered in front of Tweed's desk. Harry produced a large piece of black velvet, emptied the contents of the poche. With the office lights on, the specks and the larger piece glittered.
`From the Rand in South Africa.' Harry paused. `Mined well over a hundred years ago. No doubt about it.'
`I had just wondered,' said Tweed, speaking slowly.
Before Paula prepared dinner for two at Tweed's house in Bexford Street they had carried the huge stock from the Porsche up to the first floor. Tweed was astonished.
`Why do we need all this?'
`Because both your big American fridges are almost empty. It's essential to keep up supplies.'
`We could run our own supermarket,' he chaffed her.
`I'm cooking. Fancy mushroom soup, lamb chops, potatoes, plus mixed veg, followed by a lemon tart I baked at Fulham Road?'
`My mouth's watering...'
When she was well advanced with the meal she came in to set the dining-room table, found everything laid. Two glasses of wine had been poured. She sipped one appreciatively. She peered over Tweed's shoulder at the book he was reading. The Official History of Gold Bullion .
They ate in silence, as was their custom. Only when they were perched on the comfortable sofa did Paula tersely tell Tweed about the bizarre Evelyn-Ashton encounter. He looked disturbed so she changed the subject.
`What did you think of Hengistbury Manor and its inhabitants?'
`Seemed like the most luxurious prison in the world. All those people living under one roof. I sensed hatred and maybe an atmosphere of evil. The lid held on by the remarkable Bella.'
`What about Marshal Main?'
`A charmer. Never liked them, probably because it's a quality I lack...'
`I've seen women of all ages look at you speculatively. Anything else about Marshal?'
`A ladies' man — and
`In the Far East they call the servant who helps, boy.' `Well, boy, I'm a quick shopper so keep moving.' `And I'm ten years younger than you..
She hauled food off the shelves, out of the refrigerated compartments. Soon the large trolley was piled high. She went to the checkout and Marler stared. A man in a white uniform picked up the purchases as they were checked out, then packed them in a series of strong brown paper bags. He then asked which was their car and wheeled the large stock to the front of the Porsche where he placed them neatly in the luggage compartment. Marler reached in his pocket for a generous tip. The helper shook his head.
`Thank you, sir, but we're not allowed to accept tips. We get well paid if we're quick. Excuse me, I see another customer at the checkout'
`Last time I saw that was in California,' Marler commented as he settled in the passenger seat.
`It's a new American food store with American methods.'
She was already driving away from the slot, her speed just below the limit. She slid through a gap in the traffic. A driver of another car shouted at her but she ignored him.
`Going back to California?' she asked.
`I don't think so. Full of blondes with incredibly long legs and not an atom in the brain department'
Arriving back, eventually, at Park Crescent, Paula parked the Porsche in the yard at the back of the building. It was now dusk and they were followed up the stairs by Pete Nield, holding a small black velvet bag tightly in his hand.
All the staff were inside the office. Harry was seated in his usual position, cross-legged on the floor. He was dismantling a Walther, placing the elements in a plastic tray. Tweed waved a hand at his clear desk.
`Dealt with all the reports. Monica took the replies along to the Communications building further along the street. Ah, here's Mr Pete Nield. Took you a while, not that it matters if you've got the answers to my gold queries'
`You'll be fascinated. I had to wait while my contact, who was amazed, took this stuff to another analyst.'
At the reference to the word 'gold' everyone gathered in front of Tweed's desk. Harry produced a large piece of black velvet, emptied the contents of the poche. With the office lights on, the specks and the larger piece glittered.
`From the Rand in South Africa.' Harry paused. `Mined well over a hundred years ago. No doubt about it.'
`I had just wondered,' said Tweed, speaking slowly.
Before Paula prepared dinner for two at Tweed's house in Bexford Street they had carried the huge stock from the Porsche up to the first floor. Tweed was astonished.
`Why do we need all this?'
`Because both your big American fridges are almost empty. It's essential to keep up supplies.'
`We could run our own supermarket,' he chaffed her.
`I'm cooking. Fancy mushroom soup, lamb chops, potatoes, plus mixed veg, followed by a lemon tart I baked at Fulham Road?'
`My mouth's watering...'
When she was well advanced with the meal she came in to set the dining-room table, found everything laid. Two glasses of wine had been poured. She sipped one appreciatively. She peered over Tweed's shoulder at the book he was reading. The Official History of Gold Bullion .
They ate in silence, as was their custom. Only when they were perched on the comfortable sofa did Paula tersely tell Tweed about the bizarre Evelyn-Ashton encounter. He looked disturbed so she changed the subject.
`What did you think of Hengistbury Manor and its inhabitants?'
`Seemed like the most luxurious prison in the world. All those people living under one roof. I sensed hatred and maybe an atmosphere of evil. The lid held on by the remarkable Bella.'
`What about Marshal Main?'
`A charmer. Never liked them, probably because it's a quality I lack...'
`I've seen women of all ages look at you speculatively. Anything else about Marshal?'
`A ladies' man — and
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