The Ben Hope Collection: 6 BOOK SET. Scott Mariani

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СКАЧАТЬ were all around the room. ‘The black one’, said the voice. It was impassive and controlled.

      Eve reached over and took down a Chanel dress, beautiful, black velvet. She hated it, just as she hated all of them. She turned round and held it up against her slender figure.

      ‘No’, the voice said. ‘The satin one.’ Eve calmly replaced the dress, slid the hangers along the rail and took down the low-cut satin dress. One of his more recent gifts to her.

      ‘Put it on’, said the voice in the same unemotional tone. She did as he said.

       ‘Now the pearls’

      She turned away from the racks of dresses. On the opposite wall of the huge wardrobe was an antique glass-fronted cabinet lined with blue velvet and displaying a row of open jewel boxes with glittering gold chains and diamond necklaces. She drew out the long string of pearls and placed it over her head. It hung low down between her breasts, cool against her skin.

      ‘No. Double them up’, the voice said. ‘And put on the matching earrings.’

      She obeyed mechanically.

      In another part of the house, Werner Kroll reclined back in his padded chair. He sat with his hands on his lap, his tie as straight and tightly knotted as always. His eyes were fixed on the flat-screen colour monitor in front of him. She turned round to let him see her, the way she knew he liked. He nodded approvingly. ‘Good,’ he said into the microphone. ‘Now go to the room.’ He reached out slowly and pressed a button on the console in front of him, switching cameras. He watched her come out of the bedroom, walk down the long corridor and climb the stairway.

      Eve had made this journey more times than she wanted to remember. What did he want from her? It was always different, but each time it got a little worse. She walked up to a heavy door, turned the gold handle and went inside. The room was elegant, the ceiling high. The soft lighting cast long shadows on the green silk-covered walls. The furniture was sparse but expensive and the carpet felt deep and spongy under her feet.

      She walked to the middle of the room, glancing around her, feeling uneasy. She caught a glimpse of herself in the high mirror that stretched from floor to ceiling, and looked away quickly.

      Someone moaned at the far end of the room and Eve turned in the direction of the sound. Lying on the broad bed was a woman. She was young and pretty, semi-conscious and almost naked. She was spread-eagled, tied to the bedposts by the arms and ankles.

      The voice spoke again from hidden speakers in the corners of the room. It seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere, filling every inch of air. ‘Take off your dress’, it said. ‘Slowly.’

      Eve hesitated a moment, then reached behind her back and started undoing the fasteners.

      ‘More slowly’, the voice warned. She obeyed. The straps slipped over her shoulders and the dress slid smoothly down her body. She stepped out of it and left it lying in a satin pool on the floor.

      ‘Good’, said the voice. ‘Now go to the table and open the case’

      Eve did as he said. Her legs felt heavy as she approached the gleaming tabletop. She flipped the catches of the soft hide briefcase, raised the lid and stepped back. When she saw what was inside, she caught her breath.

      She looked across at the mirror and shook her head. ‘Please, I can’t do this,’ she said. ‘Don’t make me.’

      The voice was silent but she could imagine the look on his face as he sat in his chair behind the two-way glass.

      ‘This is going too far,’ she said more firmly, and shut the case.

      He spoke quietly. He told her why she had no choice. What he would do to her if she didn’t obey him. She listened, her chin on her chest and her eyes shut.

      When he finished talking, Eve opened the case again, swallowed hard and reached slowly for what was inside.

       Chapter Twenty-Two

       The English Channel

       Towards dawn

      The coast of France was a light-speckled haze against the dark blue horizon. The storm had finally blown itself out and the sea was smooth and grey. Gulls screeched around the Isolde’s tall mast as Ben peeled off his waterproofs and made his way below. Mick clapped him on the shoulder as he passed. The skipper looked drawn. It had been a long night.

      Leigh met Ben at the hatchway, looking concerned. The smell of frying bacon coming from inside made his mouth water. ‘I’m making breakfast,’ she said.

      ‘Where’s Chris?’ he asked, trudging wearily down the steps.

      ‘I think he’s still in bed.’

      ‘Some captain,’ he muttered. Leigh ignored the comment and handed him a steaming plate of bacon and eggs. He sat down to eat it while she pulled on her jacket and went to take another plateful up to Mick on deck.

      As Ben lifted the first forkful to his mouth, the door of the master cabin burst open. Chris had a twisted look on his face as he stepped out.

      Leigh was coming back down below. She saw Chris and stopped halfway down the steps.

      ‘Don’t move,’ Chris said. In his hand was one of the Para-Ordnance pistols, and he was pointing it straight at Ben.

      Ben stared at the gun.

      ‘Pretty surprised, aren’t you, Major?’ Chris gave a tense little laugh. ‘Leigh, this is what your boyfriend’s really about. Look what I found in his bag. Three of them, and ammunition.’ Keeping the gun trained on Ben, he reached behind the door of his cabin. He brought out the haversack and chucked it on the floor between them. ‘Not to mention something like fifteen thousand euros in cash in there,’ he said. ‘All tied up in neat little stacks. What’s the game, Major? Gun-running? Dope-dealing? Bit of both?’ Chris grinned triumphantly at Leigh. ‘Either way, he’s in the shit now. This is a citizen’s arrest. I’m calling the police and the coastguard.’

      ‘Chris!’ Leigh moaned.

      ‘Don’t worry, I won’t mention your name. It’s nothing to do with you-is it?’

      ‘You’re being so stupid,’ she said. ‘Don’t do this. I’ll explain everything to you another time. Trust me, all right?’

      Chris ignored her and waggled the gun at Ben. ‘Not so tough now, are you, Major?’

      Ben went on eating. ‘You don’t know about the three conditions, do you, Chris?’

      Chris flushed, and his triumphant grin faded a little. ‘What are you on about?’

      ‘I didn’t think so. I’m talking about the three conditions of readiness for a single-action semi-automatic pistol.’

      Chris’s smile was wavering, uncertain what to make of this.

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