The Shadow Conspiracy by R.D. Shah

Author:R.D. Shah
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Canelo Books
Published: 2020-01-13T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 14

The hum of excited chatter and occasional bellowing laughter was oddly intoxicating to Harker as he and Doggie made their way up the cedarwood steps to the impressive wooden chalet. This residence had been dug right into the side of the mountain, and its two floors, balconies, overhanging roofs and multitude of large windows must have cost a fortune to build. Down below, the town of Zermatt glowed, nestling in a deep gorge amidst the Swiss Alps. It was home to not only the wealthy but to thousands of tourists who came each year seeking adventure and the skiing the nearby mountains were renowned for.

At the front door they both looked back down towards the twinkling lights, with the Matterhorn towering over the town like a guardian, its snowy peaks bathed in a silvery light from the full moon overhead.

‘It seems Dr Wexler has done well for himself,’ Doggie remarked, his tone tinged with a hint of bitterness that only a close associate could detect. ‘On the other hand, it’s probably rented.’

‘Not bad for a dead man,’ Harker replied before going straight to the crux of the dean’s comment. ‘Your own house is rather lovely too, Tom.’

‘That’s not what I meant.’

With a smile Harker grasped the heavy round knocker and gave it two hefty raps. He then took a step back and glanced down at Doggie’s recently purchased trousers. ‘Loving the new threads, by the way.’

On arriving at Heathrow airport during the evening, and expecting an hour’s travel wading through the London traffic, Harker had demanded that the Dean use the first available clothing store to replace his stained trousers. Under duress Doggie had been frogmarched into an unknown establishment ‘Bob’s Best Buys’ in the duty-free section, though judging by the scarceness of stock and ‘Everything must go’ signs, Bob’s business was not only going to the wall but his taste in fashion was the most likely cause. Doggie had opted for a pair of brown nylon trousers which, to be fair, was the best of a bad selection. It was remarkable to Harker how a simple change in trousers could transform the usually impeccable-looking Dean into a sad-looking bohemian with just a single purchase. The fact that they were two inches shorter than the Dean’s inside leg measurement hadn’t helped either. Thanks for the memories, Bob!

Above the sound of glasses clinking and the merriment inside, footsteps could now be heard approaching, and Harker took another step backwards as the door swung open to reveal an attractive woman in her fifties wearing an expensive-looking red dress with frills at the shoulders.

‘Yes, can I help you?’ she asked in French and using a haughty tone.

‘We’re here to see Michael Wexler,’ replied Harker.

‘You’ve got the wrong address. There’s no one of that name here. And in case you haven’t noticed, we are entertaining this evening, so I’ll have to ask you to leave.’

Judging by the glassy look in her eyes and the way she swayed back and forth with each sentence, the woman in red was unquestionably on the way to having one hell of a hangover in the morning.

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