5_Spy Line by Len Deighton

Author:Len Deighton
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Mystery, Mystery & Detective - General, Mystery & Detective, Fiction - Espionage, Fiction, Suspense, Thriller, Thrillers, General, Intrigue, Espionage
ISBN: 9780345370068
Publisher: Ballantine Books
Published: 1990-12-14T00:00:00+00:00

He leaned close to me and said, ‘Tell me something, Samson. Do you know the name of this damned tune?’

‘It’s called “Cordoba”,’ I said. ‘Albeniz; played by Julian Bream.’ I answered authoritatively because after purchasing his hi-fi Dicky had played it over and over to demonstrate the track selector. ‘Catchy little piece,’ said Streeply-Cox. He looked at his wife and nodded before adding, ‘My wife said you were a know-all.’ ‘I try, Sir Giles,’ I said and moved away murmuring about getting another glass of wine.

Once clear of the dreaded Streeply-Cox I decided that finding another glass of champagne wouldn’t be a bad idea. I waylaid the old man with the drinks and then took a moment or two to look around. The same rather battered painting of Adam and Eve dominated the fireplace. Dicky always called it naif in an attempt to give it class but to my eyes it was just badly drawn. The framed colour photo of Dicky’s boat had gone. That rather confirmed the rumours I’d heard about him putting it up for sale.

Daphne had never been happy about that boat. She was rather prone to sea-sickness and yet if she didn’t join Dicky on his nautical weekends she knew there was a risk that some other female would share the captain’s cabin.

The antique cabinet that had once held a collection of matchbox covers now held a Japanese dagger, some netsuke and an assortment of other small oriental artefacts. On the wall behind it there were six framed woodblock prints, including the inevitable ‘Breaking Wave’. They’d fitted a fine mesh screen across the artificial coal fire. I suppose too many people threw litter into it. Dicky was always on his knees, clawing cigarette butts and screwed up scraps of paper from the plastic coal. I reflected that every decoration in the room was new except the Adam and Eve that Daphne had found in a flea market in Amsterdam. It was a sign of the Cruyers’ widening horizons and deepening pockets. I wondered how long Adam and Eve would last and what they’d be replaced with. Adam was already looking a bit apprehensive.

It was while trying to decide about the expression upon the face of Eve that I spotted my errant sister-in law Tessa, and her husband George Kosinski. They were both dressed up to the nines, but even Tessa in her Paris model-gown didn’t excel the stupendous Gloria, who looked more enchanting than ever.

Tessa came over. She must have been getting on for forty but she was still vibrantly attractive, with her long fair hair and bright blue eyes, and she still had that breathless way of speaking that made one think that she’d been waiting anxiously to see you again. ‘I thought maybe you’d been sent to the bloody moon, poppet,’ she said, giving me an uncharacteristically coy kiss. ‘I’ve missed you, darling.’

I confess to a frisson as she kissed me: I’d never noticed before how much like Fiona she could look. Tonight especially so.

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