Dead of Winter by Sam Millar Read Free Book Online Page B

– or you, come the day.’
    ‘You’re wasting valuable time.’
    ‘Well, then? What are you waiting for? Get it over with.’
    A flash and a loud crack exploded from the barrel. Silver light filled the warehouse. A few seconds later, the darkness returned, closing down like a fist with something secret in it.
    All went quiet on the waterfront.

CHAPTER TEN
A DAMSEL IN DISTRESS
    ‘It was a blonde. A blonde to make a bishop kick a hole in a stained glass window.’
    Raymond Chandler,
Farewell, My Lovely
    ‘K arl? There’s a Miss Jemma Doyle wishing to see you,’ said Naomi, popping her head into the office.
    ‘Bit late for a Friday night, isn’t it?’ said Karl, reading his horoscope in the tabloid:
Money on its way. And a surprise, for later in the week.
‘Does she have an appointment?’
    ‘No. I told her she needs to make one, but she was insistent. I can send her away, if you wish?’
    ‘No, that’s okay. Send her in,’ said Karl, quickly discarding the newspaper in the top drawer of his desk. He had tried reading other parts of the newspaper earlier in the day – anything to take his mind off the disturbing visit to his father, two days ago – but couldn’t stay focused. Cornelius’ pleading voice – like a song or a perfectly crafted line of movie dialogue – continued to play over and over in his head.
    No sooner had he closed the drawer than an extremely attractivewoman appeared at the door, dressed in a stylish winter coat and skirt, and clutching a large leather handbag. Under the unbuttoned coat a black silk blouse revealed a generous ‘v’ of perfectly tanned skin. Her eyes were soft and doe-like, with just a hint of melancholy hidden behind them. Blonde hair reached to her shoulders and slightly beyond.
    Karl guessed her to be in her late twenties, or early thirties at the most. Everything about her said class.
    ‘Sorry, I know it’s late, Mister Kane, but I didn’t know I had to make an appointment,’ said Jemma Doyle, flashing a perfect smile.
    Only now did Karl notice the deep scarring on the left side of her face, not quite camouflaged by the expensive make-up she wore.
    ‘No, don’t worry, we were just doing our usual Friday night tidy up. Won’t you sit down, Miss Doyle?’ said Karl, touching Jemma’s hand gently before shaking it rather carefully, as if too much force could dislodge the glove.
    ‘Please forgive the gloves. I suffer terribly from eczema on my hands,’ said Jemma, sitting down opposite Karl. ‘This cold weather has an adverse effect on them.’
    Nodding, Karl asked, ‘What can I do for you?’
    She leaned in close. Karl could smell her perfume. A musky scent. Expensive. The kind he bought Naomi on very special occasions. There hadn’t been too many of those lately. Hopefully his horoscope’s predictions would materialise.
    ‘It’s my uncle, Thomas Blake. He’s been missing for a few years and my family have been trying to track him down. My father – his brother – wants to get in contact with him before…well, myfather is extremely ill, Mister Kane…’
    ‘I’m sorry to hear that, Miss Doyle.’
    ‘Jemma. Please call me Jemma.’
    ‘Jemma…’ replied Karl, smiling a Colgate smile.
    ‘I know how busy you must be. Your secretary was quite adamant that I come back some other time, but I really need for someone to find Uncle Thomas, before it’s too late…’ Jemma produced a Kleenex and began dabbing at her eyes. Her voice was quivering, threatening to quit altogether. ‘I’m sorry…so silly of me…it’s just that all this responsibility in finding him has been put on me, and it’s stressed me out.’
    ‘It’s okay, Jemma’ soothed Karl. ‘Nothing like a good cry, I always say. That’s what I do when I’m stressed.’
    Jemma smiled. It made her even lovelier.
    ‘Would you like some coffee, Jemma? Help warm you up.’
    Jemma nodded. ‘White, no sugar, please.’
    Pressing a button on the intercom, Karl said, ‘Naomi? Two