Knife Edge by Douglas Reeman

Author:Douglas Reeman [Reeman, Douglas]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Thriller
ISBN: 9780099436294
Publisher: Arrow
Published: 2004-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Doors slammed and Ross did not hear the rest.

In a day or so he would be back where he belonged, and she would have forgotten their brief contact.

He thought of her hand, the plain jade ring. A reminder, so that she would never forget, no matter what.

The dinner, at the major-general’s club in Park Lane, seemed to last forever. Their host had no difficulty keeping the conversation going, as it was mainly about himself, and his younger days when he had been a keen polo player. Souter seemed more than content to leave the field open.

Ross lost count of the various courses, apparently chosen with care well before the event, and all accompanied by the appropriate wines.

By the time it was finally finished they had the club dining room to themselves, and the few remaining waiters could barely stop yawning. There had been some sort of hint that they should move on to another late-night rendezvous, but there was only the official car, so Ross volunteered to make his own way by taxi.

It was easier said than done. There had been a film premiere at the Odeon in Leicester Square, and taxis were at a premium. Eventually he managed to flag one down and, feeling completely drained, he settled down and tried to consider his return to active duty in the future.

The taxi driver made a point of mentioning that Chelsea was “a bit off my beat, guvnor” and was taking him away from the more lucrative punters. “But seein’ as you’re in uniform …”

The street seemed darker than usual, and the electrically operated garage door was shut, so he did not know if Sue was back or not.

He heard the driver say, “Cheers, guy, thanks a lot!” and wondered what he had given him.

He groped for the spare key she had lent him. The porter was home and in bed by now. He was lucky.

He heard the taxi increasing speed and looked back across the street. He could see the tiny red light on one of the chimneys of the power station, and remembered the tug hooting. When she had been about to leave the flat. Yesterday. The day before, as it was now.

He stifled a yawn and turned back toward the flats.

It was like being punched. He was suddenly wide awake, his spine ice cold. Not fatigue, not imagination. He gauged the position of the window, and the floor. No mistake.

The flash of light. Then nothing. He counted seconds, then saw the light again. Moving this time: a torch. Like that other occasion, a lifetime ago. The staring eyes in the beam, the blade across his back.

A thief? Somebody who knew the flat was unoccupied? The thoughts meant nothing. He was at the door, the key in the lock. There was a dim light in the entrance hall, another above the lift. He saw the porter’s telephone. Call the police? But he was already halfway up the narrow emergency staircase. Suppose he’s armed, or there’s more than one

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