Heart of Gold by Michael Pryor Read Free Book Online Page B

less
exciting.'
    Aubrey had the same regrets. In Lutetia for less than a
day and already being interviewed by police after being
assaulted by a citizen infected with something horrible.
So much for a discreet presence in the capital. He knew
he should contact the embassy and let the Ambassador
know what had happened, but decided that it could wait.
    Inspector Paul reappeared, alone. He went to the
canvas bolster that had once been an artist.
    'What about the doctor?' Aubrey asked. 'Monsieur
Jordan hit his head badly.'
    Inspector Paul shrugged and Aubrey saw that the
gesture was a favourite of the dapper police officer. He probably practises it in front of a mirror , Aubrey thought.
    'He doesn't need a doctor,' Inspector Paul said. 'It is
very difficult to hurt them when they're in this state.'
    'What state would that be? And who are "they"?'
    'Nothing to interest a young visitor from Albion.'
Inspector Paul smiled. 'Madame Calvert told me you
arrived very recently. I hope you enjoy your time in the
City of Lights.'
    Aubrey knew a dismissal when he heard one. 'I'm sure
we will.'
    Madame Calvert passed Inspector Paul on the stairs.
'This just came for you,' she said to Aubrey and she held
out a large, cream envelope.
    At first, Aubrey didn't want to take it. It had all the
signs of official correspondence. His experience
suggested that such items rarely contained good news.
    George saw his hesitation and reached for the
envelope, but Aubrey overcame his reluctance and took
it before his friend could. Madame Calvert lingered a
moment, then left while Aubrey opened the letter.
    'It's your father's stationery, isn't it?' George said.
'What's it say?'
    Aubrey scanned the letter. His heart sank. 'No, it's not
my father's. It's from the office of the Prime Minister.'
    'Same thing, isn't it?'
    'Not really. This is official, and probably not written by
him.' It's not a note from a father to his son, in other words. 'It's
to let me know that the Prime Minister of Albion will be
in Lutetia soon for an official meeting with his Gallian
counterpart.' He tapped the paper with a forefinger. 'My
father is going to be here on the twenty-sixth, George.'
    George stood back, trying gauge Aubrey's reaction.
'Nearly two weeks away.'
    'I thought it too good to be true, you know.'
    'What is?'
    'Their letting me go on a holiday like this, by myself.'
    'I'm with you, old man.'
    'I mean, without them.' Aubrey folded the letter and
put back in the envelope. 'He's coming to check on me.'

Four
    T HE NEXT MORNING , A UBREY DRAGGED OPEN THE curtains, then the windows. Their fifth-floor
position may have been awkward for toting luggage, but
it did provide a glorious aspect of the city.
    The room faced the apartments opposite, but their
building was taller so that Aubrey had a clear view south
toward the river. Between the river and his vantage point,
he could make out the bordering greenery of the trees
along the riverside gardens.
    When he leaned out of the window, he could see that
the city was stirring. In the distance to the south-west,
over the river, the Exposition Tower stood proudly. Not
far to the east of the tower, he made out the gold spire of
the church of St Ambrose. He looked west, trying to find
the heights of the Haltain district, but the early morning
haze obscured the view. He took in Lutetia, his gaze
roaming across parks, bridges and streets crowded with
narrow buildings. He itched to grab his guidebook and
use the map to work out which stately building was
which, where museums, galleries and archives were, the
best way across the river to the university, but he decided
simply to enjoy the vista, revelling in the unknown,
tantalising city spread out in front of him.
    Looking closer, he sought the ornate cast-iron entrance
of the underground railway on the street corner. Having
found it, the river and – by craning his neck and looking
south – the university, Aubrey felt oriented.
    Below, in front of a tobacconist, he noticed a man in