Scorpia by Anthony Horowitz Read Free Book Online

challenged, he would soon be thrown out. He went through a door and found himself in an area that was a cross between a very wide corridor and a room in its own right. A gold-framed mirror hung on one wall above an ornate antique table, on which was a large vase of flowers. A huge wardrobe stood opposite. Apart from this, the area was empty.
    There was a door at the far end and Alex was about to continue towards it, when he heard muffled voices approaching. He looked around for somewhere to hide. There was only the wardrobe. He didn’t have time to slip inside, but he slid against the wall next to it. Like the courtyard, this floor was lit by oil lamps. He hoped the bulk of the wardrobe would cast a large enough shadow to conceal him.
    The door opened. Two people came out, talking in English: one a man, the other a woman.
    “We have received the release certificates and the batch will be on its way the day after tomorrow.” The man was speaking. “As I explained to you, Mrs Rothman, timing is everything.”
    “The cold chain.”
    “Exactly. The cold chain cannot be broken. The boxes will be flown to England. After that…”
    “Thank you, Dr Liebermann. You have done very well.”
    The two of them had stopped, just out of sight from where Alex was hiding. However, leaning forward slightly, he could see their reflections in the mirror.

    Mrs Rothman was stunning. There was no other way for Alex to describe her. She was more like a film star than any of the actresses he had seen downstairs, her long black hair falling in waves to her shoulders. She had a mask, but it was in her hand, on the end of a wooden rod, so he was able to see her face: the brilliant dark eyes, the blood-red lips, the perfect teeth. She was wearing a fantastic dress made of ivory-coloured lace, and somehow Alex knew that it wasn’t a costume but a real antique. A gold necklace set with dark blue sapphires circled her throat.
    Her companion was also wearing fancy dress—a long, fur-lined cloak, a wide-brimmed hat and leather gloves.
    He too was holding a mask but it was an ugly thing with small eyes and a long beak. He had come as a traditional plague doctor and, Alex thought, he hardly needed the disguise. His face was pale and lifeless, his lips flecked with saliva. He was very tall, towering over Mrs Rothman. Yet still, somehow, she dwarfed him.
    Alex wondered why he had been invited.
    “You do promise me, Mrs Rothman,” Dr Liebermann said, taking off a pair of heavy glasses and wiping them nervously. “Nobody is going to get hurt.”
    “Does it really matter?” she replied. “You’re being paid five million euros. A small fortune. Think about it, Dr Liebermann. You’re set up for life.”
    Alex risked another glance and saw the woman standing side-on, waiting for the man to speak. Dr Liebermann was frozen. Caught between greed and fear.
    “I don’t know,” he rasped. “Perhaps if you were paying me more…”
    “Then maybe we’ll have to think about doing just that!” Mrs Rothman sounded completely relaxed. “But let’s not spoil the party by talking about business. I’m coming down to Amalfi myself in two days’ time. I want to be there when the batch leaves, and we can talk about money then.” She smiled. “Right now, let’s go and have a glass of champagne and I can introduce you to some of my famous friends.”
    They had started walking again and as they talked they went past Alex. For a moment he was tempted to show himself. This was the woman he had come to find. He should approach her before she disappeared into the crowd. But at the same time he was intrigued. Release certificates and cold chains. He wondered what they had been talking about. Once again he decided it would be better to find out a little more before he revealed himself.
    He stepped out into the corridor and went down to the door through which Mrs Rothman and her companion had come. He opened it and found himself in a huge room—and one that could