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

five-minute drive.
    ‘When should I collect you, mademoiselle?’
    ‘Give me three hours, Pascal. I’ll let you know if things change.’
    She walked around the corner to the beige stone building with candle-lit windows. The doorman smiled and bowed, he pulled open the door. Music and laughter drifted outside.
    The divine Pippo was standing at the white grand piano with a microphone in his hands. Grappa wasn’t just Pippo’s restaurant, it was his stage. Hair slicked back, handlebar moustache curled at the tips, waving his arms and pointing out the beautiful people sitting at his tables come to be fed and entertained by him. A genuine lounge lizard, Katherine thought, but a lounge lizard with style.
    ‘And now, mesdames et messieurs, you must excuse me. A beautiful woman has just walked into my life.’ Pippo laid the microphone on the piano, greeted Katherine with open arms and three kisses. He took her mink, led her through the restaurant. ‘I have table twenty-one for you. Close to the fireplace.’
    ‘Thanks, Pippo.’
    She saw Enzo at the piano, looking up from the keys and blowing her a kiss without missing a note. She smiled, sent one back. Pippo pulled out the table and Katherine settled in the corner from where she could see the entire room.
    ‘And I saved the last of the white truffles for you. So beautiful for the mouth. The head of the Solzdorf Investment Bank is here with his mistress. He wanted to impress her with my truffles, I told him they were finished. His mistress wasn’t impressed.’
    ‘Poor boy, he’ll get over it.’
    She pulled a cigarette from her bag. Pippo pulled a lighted match from thin air. ‘Champagne, mademoiselle?’
    ‘Please, and send a glass to Enzo.’
    ‘I will cut his throat instead. Tell me you are alone tonight, Mademoiselle Taylor. Tell me and I will melt.’
    ‘I’m expecting someone, Pippo. Posh and rich, so get out your most expensive red.’
    ‘If he touches you, I will die.’
    ‘Then I wouldn’t get my white truffles.’
    Pippo jabbed an imaginary knife into his heart.
    ‘This life, c’est tragique . I can only make love to you with my food.’
    ‘Well, at least you know how to satisfy a woman, Pippo.’
    ‘I burn with love.’ He bowed and kissed her hand, waltzed to the piano and grabbed the microphone. ‘Champagne for Mademoiselle Taylor! Champagne for everyone! Mesdames et messieurs, tonight, I am in love with a beautiful lady from America!’
    Enzo broke into a chorus of ‘New York, New York’. Wrong fucking coast but Katherine smiled anyway. She liked Enzo. He had long, delicate fingers. The kind a girl dreams about.
    She sipped champagne till Mr Duncan-Bowles arrived. He looked half in the bag already. He laughed when Pippo presented a starter of prosciutto and sausages while complaining to the next table that ‘this Englishman’ had stolen the love of his life from under his handlebar moustache. Pippo poured the Conterno Barolo with the look of a love-sick puppy. He walked to the piano and announced to the crowd he was now heartbroken. He sang his way through a sad Italian melody.
    ‘ Encora … encora … ’
    There was loud applause. Mr Duncan-Bowles tasted the wine.
    ‘Odd little chap, isn’t he?’
    ‘Pippo? He and his moustache are part of the wallpaper in Lausanne. And he appreciates men of quality, such as yourself.’
    ‘I don’t follow.’
    ‘Savile Row suit, gold monogrammed cufflinks, the watch on your wrist.’
    Handmade Patek Philippe. Forty grand at least, Katherine figured. And it wasn’t there yesterday. Mr Duncan-Bowles admired it himself.
    ‘Picked it up today, bonus to myself. Just closed a huge merger in Lausanne. That’s why I thought I’d like to see you again. Stay another night, celebrate.’
    Katherine’s mind kicked into gear. One of the perks of dating men of immeasurable means. They loved to brag their way into her stock portfolio. She scooted over a smidge, sipping her wine and letting her hair fall