Название: Only Forward
Автор: Michael Marshall Smith
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Классическая проза
isbn: 9780007325368
isbn:
‘Hello, my dear: how are you this evening?’
‘Fine thank you, Mr Alkland, and you?’
‘Oh, fine, fine. Relaxing nicely, thank you. So. Is there anything worth eating on this badly-designed menu this evening?’
‘No, not really. The chef said he thought the Chicken a‘ la Turk with strawberry yoghurt and braised sunflower seeds probably wouldn’t do anyone any actual harm, but he didn’t seem too confident.’
I was gobsmacked, I really was. I’d done my very best to be charming to the art student, which was probably more charming than you’d expect, and hadn’t got a single word out of her. It just went to show what looking like a harmless professor does for you. I haven’t described what I look like, have I? Remind me later and I will: it’s not that bad, but it’s kind of uncompromising. Every face says something: the deal with mine is that though you might not like what it’s saying you have to admire the strength of its convictions.
‘What does it look like?’ Alkland asked doubtfully. The waitress thought for a moment.
‘Strange.’
‘I can’t say I’m surprised. Well, I suppose I’ll have to risk it.’
‘Anything to drink, sir?’
‘A glass of wine would be rather nice. Any idea how long it’ll be? To the nearest day?’
‘Well, he’s already cooked one thing this evening, so he’ll probably be a bit tired, but I’ll try and hurry it up for you, sir.’
‘Thank you, my dear,’ Alkland beamed endearingly, handing her his menu and settling back down to gaze benignly round the room.
I flagged her down as she passed, and asked for the check, lighting a cigarette and settling down for a long wait. She was back before I’d finished it, however, with both my check and a salad for Alkland, for God’s sake. He hadn’t even ordered one and there he was eating something within minutes. Obviously some people have got it and some people haven’t.
I paid up and went straight to the lobby, where a uniformed flunky was now standing, trying to look busy. Maybe this was the off season, or perhaps this was the least favoured of Play’s hotels. It was certainly a good choice for a gang to hole up in. Passing myself off as ‘one of his party’ I asked which room Alkland had, and the flunky was glad to help. He told me twice, it was such a novelty to have something to do, and when I asked him where the bar was he practically carried me there.
For the next two hours I sat unobtrusively in the bar, flicking through magazines and keeping an eye out. I’d decided to wait until after shutdown before I did anything, and the bar was conveniently placed for making sure nobody I was interested in left the hotel without my knowing. A few couples were dotted around the bar and a handful passed through on their way somewhere else, but no one who didn’t look like they were Stable born and bred. Either the gang were lying low in their rooms, or were out and about in Stable. I considered asking the lobby flunky for a list of registered guests, on the off-chance that I might recognise any of the names, but decided that it would look too suspicious. Just before ten o’clock Alkland passed by the door, heading towards the stairs up to the rooms, but I didn’t follow him. I knew where he was going.
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