Read Online The Watchers by Jon Steele - Free Book Online Page A

the belfry for emergencies.’
    ‘This isn’t an emergency, it’s a gift. And you must give them to the watcher who comes after you, that’s the tradition. You must leave something for the watcher who comes after you.’
    ‘Like your hat and cloak.’
    ‘Yes, Marc. Like my old hat and cloak. Still in the closet are they?’
    ‘ Oui , monsieur.’
    ‘I do like putting them on to call the hour, you know. But when I’m gone, you take them home. Don’t want them lying around.’
    ‘I know, monsieur.’
    Monsieur Buhlmann stretched his arms and yawned.
    ‘I suppose I’d best get home, before my batty wife forgets I’m still alive, again.’
    Monsieur Buhlmann made several attempts at getting up but kept falling back on his stool. Rochat went into the loge and dialled for a taxi, then he called Madame Buhlmann to say all was well and that her husband was still alive and on his way home and could she please remember to unlock the door because he was very drunk. The old man objected, going on and on what nonsense it was and that he could find his own way home. During one arm-waving objection, Rochat excused himself for the nine o’clock rounds. Dashing into the loge, lighting the lantern, waiting for Marie-Madeleine to ring. Then rounding the tower to call the hour and returning to the south balcony, only to find Monsieur Buhlmann on his stool, still protesting that it was all so much nonsense, as if Rochat had never left.
    By the time he got the old man down the tower and into the waiting taxi it was three minutes before the ten o’clock bells. Rochat rushed back into the cathedral and raced up the tower.

four
     
    It was a late call.
    Katherine wasn’t enamoured with late calls. They reminded her of her job description. But Simone Badeaux pointed out that at five thousand Swiss francs for dinner, and dinner alone, she was far removed from what could be described as a whore.
    ‘Really, Katherine, I do think you forget the impression you leave with the members of the Two Hundred Club. Mr Duncan-Bowles thought you most charming and decided to stay another night just to visit with you again.’
    ‘He must have believed all those things I whispered in his ear when I gave him the squeeze.’
    ‘Indeed, reduces them to whimpering schoolboys. By the way, I have details regarding our Middle Eastern friend. Two weeks in Zermatt, December twenty-fourth through January eighth. You’ll have accommodation at the Monte Rosa Hotel. The client asks that your mornings be kept free for coffee, and your late afternoons free for an aperitif.’
    ‘Consultation fee?’
    ‘Fifty thousand Swiss francs plus open accounts at shops and restaurants. He would also like to meet with you just after midnight of the New Year. Discreetly, of course. The usual paparazzi trash will be chasing his actress wife about, gorgeous creature that she is. Really, I am jealous, darling. I knew his father, you know. A man of great dignity and charm, not to mention stamina. I understand the son to be of similar calibre.’
    ‘Why not come along, Simone? Make it a threesome.’
    ‘Oh, you are naughty, but it’s all I can do to manage the club. You found a restaurant for this evening? The client wishes for something Italian.’
    ‘Not an easy trick on a Saturday night, but Pippo is holding a table at La Grappa.’
    ‘Oh, the divine Pippo, do give him my love. Next week I’ll have details regarding your trip to the Maldives with our Bollywood friend. Things aren’t going well with wife number four. He needs your particular attention. Ciao .’
    She finished dressing and dropped her cellphone in her Louis Vuitton bag, along with a taser gun. Not that it was entirely legal in Switzerland, but what the hell? Sometimes a girl needs a few thousand volts of equalization. She checked herself in the mirror.
    ‘Go get ’em, tiger.’
    Pascal drove her to the narrow lanes of the Rotillion quarter. The usual compliments followed by silence ate up the