All the Colours of Darkness by Peter Robinson

Author:Peter Robinson [Robinson, Peter]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Mystery
Publisher: McClelland & Stewart
Published: 2008-01-03T05:00:00+00:00

Banks met Sophia in their local wine bar on the King’s Road just after eight o’clock that evening. It was always crowded by then, but they managed to get a couple of stools at the bar. The place always reminded Banks a bit of their first night together. The Eastvale wine bar was a bit smaller and less upmarket, of course, its wine list perhaps not quite so comprehensive, and certainly lighter on the wallet, but it had a similar ambience: curved black bar, bottles on glass racks against a lit mirror behind the work area, soft lighting, candles floating among flower petals on the black circular tables, chrome chairs, padded seats.

That first night Banks hadn’t been able to take his eyes off Sophia’s animated face as they talked, and without his even being aware of it, he had somehow forgotten everything else in his life and broken through his natural reserve, found his hand reaching out for hers across the table, not another thought in his mind at that moment but her dark eyes, her voice, her lips, the light and shade of the flickering candle playing on the smooth skin of her face. It was a feeling that he knew would stay with him forever, no matter what happened. He felt his breath catch in his chest even as he thought about it now, sitting next to her, rather than opposite, in a place where they could barely hear one another speak, and whatever the music that was playing, it certainly wasn’t Madeleine Peyroux singing “You’re Gonna Make Me Lonesome When You Go.”

“He was terrible,” Sophia was saying, finishing a story about an interview she had produced that afternoon. “I mean, most crime writers are nice enough, but this bloke came on like he was Tolstoy or someone, proceeded to ignore the questions he was asked, pontificated about navel-gazing literary fiction and complained about not being nominated for the Man Booker. If you even hinted that he wrote crime novels, he’d snarl and practically go apoplectic. And he swore all the bloody time! And he smelled. Poor Chris, the interviewer, stuck there in that little studio with him.”

Banks laughed. “What did you do?”

“Well, let’s just say the technician’s a friend of mine, and thank God it wasn’t live,” said Sophia with a wicked smile. “And you can’t smell someone over the radio.” She knocked back a healthy draught of Rioja and patted her chest. Her face was a little flushed, the way it got sometimes when she was excited. She prodded Banks gently in the chest. “So tell me about your day, Mr. Superspy.”

Banks put his finger to his lips. “Ssshhh,” he said, glancing towards the bartender. “‘Keep mum, she’s not so dumb.’”

“You think the Rioja’s bugged?” Sophia whispered.

“Could be. After today, I wouldn’t be surprised.”

“What happened today?”

“Oh, nothing happened. Not really.”

“Am I going to see much of you while you’re down here, or are you going to be slinking among the shadows and darkness?”

“I hope not.”

“But are

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