The Watchman by Chris Ryan

Author:Chris Ryan
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Thriller, Fiction
ISBN: 9780099406082
Publisher: Arrow
Published: 2001-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Alex raised an eyebrow.

"I thought you were already taken. Mr. Lucky-boy in London."

Dawn rolled her eyes and swung her bag over her shoulder.

"Let's go."

Pablito's appeared deserted. The swing doors were locked, the tables untenanted and wasps swung threateningly around an overflowing litter bin.

Checking his watch, Alex knocked at the entrance. The door was opened by Marie, who was wearing a pink velour tracksuit.

"Come in.

"Fraid Den's still sleeping it off. You look a treat, my love. Cup of Nes?"

"Lovely," said Dawn.

When the coffee was ready they carried it upstairs. Above the bar was a small landing giving on to a bedroom and bathroom, and a sun-baked roof terrace. On a large rectangle of plastic matting at one end of this, naked but for a faded pair of Union Jack underpants, lay Denzil Connolly, snoring. An ashtray had overturned at his side and a nine-tenths-empty bottle of Bell's whisky lay just beyond the reach of his outstretched arm.

"He likes to sleep under the stars," said Marie.

"I had to put down the matting 'cause the bottles kept smashing and then he'd roll on the pieces in the night. He's a big feller, as you can see." She folded her arms in a long-suffering gesture.

"Den, love, we've got company.

The sleeping figure stirred and the eyes half opened in pull~ suspicion.

"Wha' the fuck you..." Seeing Alex and Dawn, he closed his eyes again, groaned and writhed like a hippopotamus.

"Wha's fuckin' time?"

"Twelve. And Alex and Dawn are here."

"Who? Oh, yeah, right. Give us a hand up."

He struggled to his feet and Marie led him inside. There were unpleasant noises from the bathroom.

By the time they sat down to lunch on the terrace half an hour later, however, Connolly appeared fully recovered. Bullish, even, in his vast shorts and polo shirt.

They ate fish and oven chips with vinegar and mushy peas cooked by Marie and drank ice-cold Spanish beer.

"You two should get a place over here," Connolly said expansively. He winked at Dawn.

"Can you cook, love?"

"You betcha."

"Well, then. Sorted."

"It would be nice, wouldn't it, Alex?" said Dawn.

"I'm afraid I'm not quite in the early-retirement league," said Alex.

"Maybe I could set up a little security outfit, though. Country clubs, golf clubs..."

"Protection?" asked Marie brightly.

"Well, I wouldn't put it exactly like that ..

The meal, and later the afternoon and early evening, wore on pleasantly enough. Alex had taken a couple more ephedrine tablets at the hotel and so was happy to maintain a steady intake of cold beer. Connolly drank Scotch from the start, occasionally topping up his drink with a splash of mineral water, and by mid-afternoon Alex estimated that the big man had sunk a good third of a bottle. This, he knew, was when you got the best of a heavy drinker: in the five- or six-hour window following recovery. The whisky seemed to have little effect on Connolly other than to cheer him up and he proved a vastly entertaining host, telling story after story about the criminal fraternity who were the bar's main if not only clientele.

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