Death on the Riviera by John Bude Read Free Book Online Page B

complexion had suffered from the day’s expedition. No getting away from it—at the moment his wasn’t the sort of face that would look well at the dinner table. But Bill wasn’t troubled. That afternoon up in the mountains he’d found the answer to a vital problem, a tantalizing uncertainty that for two years or more had nattered at his peace-of-mind.
    He wound a silk muffler round his neck, locked the door of his room and went down to his car. Now that his visit to the Villa Paloma was imminent Bill’s apprehension increased. All day, caught up in strenuous activity, he’d been able to forget this fateful meeting with Kitty. Now, as he drove through the cooling streets, with the strong sweet perfume of the mimosa in his nostrils, he wondered what the devil the outcome would be. Somehow he must edge Kitty aside and speak to her alone. It wouldn’t be easy for, in her present mood, Kitty would probably do her damnedest to deny him this opportunity. He knew only too well how stubborn and wilful she could be. But the knowledge did nothing to ease the passionate longing that moved him when he thought of Kitty. No matter what had happened in the past, Bill knew that without her the future would be pretty well unbearable.
    Yes, somehow during the course of the evening he must make a last desperate effort to win her back. An unreasonable hope, perhaps. But a man in love, thought Bill wryly, doesn’t base his hopes on reason.
    III
    â€œMy dear, dear boy!” boomed Nesta, grasping Bill’s hands and shaking them frantically. “As if I wouldn’t have known you!” She stepped back and viewed him with unblushing curiosity. “You’ve certainly broadened out since those gay days at Larkhill. Don’t get enough exercise, of course. And where’s your moustache? You used to have a moustache. One of those bristly little army affairs. So virile.” Again the searching, slightly roguish contemplation. “You know, I always liked you, Bill. Not very subtle but no damn nonsense about you. Now come and meet the others. We’re a rag-and-bobtail collection but I think we’ll amuse you.”
    She led him through into the lounge and announced breezily:
    â€œHi! Everybody. This is Bill!”
    He saw Kitty at once, and his heart missed a beat. She was sitting on the arm of a settee, lovely and desirable as ever, with a cocktail glass in her hand and a small nervous smile playing about her lips. With the imperious gesture of a headmistress about to present a fourth-former to a visiting governor, Nesta beckoned her forward.
    â€œAnd this is Kitty—Kitty Linden. She’s down here on a visit.” Adding with a baleful glance: “Just a short visit , eh, darling?”
    Kitty, never quite sure how to take these devastating digs, smiled bleakly at Nesta and granted Bill a distant nod; then turned with sudden animation to Tony Shenton, who’d drifted up behind her. Bill was swift to notice how she slipped her arm through his—a familiar, possessive gesture that left no doubt in his mind as to the relationship between them. So there had been another man in the set-up—just as he’d always suspected. He wondered who the devil the fellow was and where Kitty had first met him. An outsized rotter by the look of him. Bill’s jaw grew taut. He realized with a sudden stab of despair that this man’s presence was just another knot in an already tangled situation.
    Barely conscious of what he was saying, he was introduced to Dilys, Miss Pilligrew and Latour. Then Nesta grabbed Tony by the necktie and jerked him forward like a recalcitrant horse. For the first time the two men found themselves face to face. And at that moment Bill suffered a shock. There was absolutely no question about it—somewhere, sometime, he’d met this smooth-faced bounder before!
    IV
    It was not until they’d moved out on to the moonlit terrace after dinner