The White Schooner by Antony Trew

Author:Antony Trew [Antony Trew]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780709096504
Publisher: Robert Hale
Published: 2012-03-24T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fifteen

It was a night of dark sky and bright stars, of light wind and the distant murmur of the sea, and closer at hand the clamour of traffic. Black had walked down from the old town, still carrying the stick, limping slightly when darkness did not cover him. He crossed the Paseo Vara de Rey and made for the Avenida Ignacio Wallis, the name evoking memories of a film he’d seen long ago and the abdication.

He got to the Celler Balear before she did and ordered a dry Martini. When it arrived, he leant against the bar dividing his attention between the Martini and diminutive mussels which he prised from their shells with a toothpick. Black liked the Celler. The food was good, the atmosphere authentic and the Spanish staff friendly and good humoured. The barman brought him a second Martini. As Black paid for it, Tino Costa and George Madden came up to the bar. He nodded briefly, the American said, ‘Hi,’ but the Cypriot ignored him. Black, irritated by their presence, turned his back and concentrated on the Martini, the mussels, and his problems.

The detail of the planning was settled, the timing balanced against the known factors. Only the imponderable remained, implacable and threatening, among them the dogs. If and when they’d been dealt with, a major problem would have been overcome. There was the possibility of an electronic alarm system, but he doubted it. It would have been superfluous. The outer windows were barred, there was the stone wall, the dogs patrolling inside it, and a night watchman on duty. There was no longer the problem of cutting the telephone cable because there wasn’t one. That at least had been a pleasant surprise.

Before he saw her, he heard her voice. ‘Hi, Charles. Sorry I’m late.’

She wore a red gardenia in her hair, and her eyes were misty and apologetic. He thought she’d never looked more lovely and wanted to take her in his arms, but all he did was lean on his stick and say, ‘Not to worry. Have a drink.’

*

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