Point Blanc by Anthony Horowitz Read Free Book Online Page B

asked.
    "Yes,"
Alex said.
    "That's
a shame. I don't like having to share the pool. Especially with a boy.
And a smelly London boy at that." She ran her eyes over Alex, taking in
the torn jeans, the shaven hair, the stud in his ear. She shuddered. "I can't
think what Daddy was doing, agreeing to let you stay," she went on.
"And having to pretend you're my brother! What a ghastly idea! If I
did have a brother, I can assure you he wouldn't look like you. "
    Alex was
wondering whether to pick the girl up and throw her back into the pool or out
through a window when there was a movement behind him, and he turned to see a
tall, rather aristocratic man with curling gray hair and glasses, wearing a
sports jacket, open-neck shirt, and cords, standing just behind him. He too
seemed a little jolted by Alex's appearance, but he recovered quickly,
extending a hand. "Alex?" he demanded.
    "Yes.
    "I'm
David Friend."
    Alex shook
his hand. "How do you do," he said politely.
    "I hope
you had a good journey. I see you've met my daughter." He smiled at
the girl, who was now sitting beside the pool, drying herself and ignoring them
both.
    "We
haven't actually introduced ourselves," Alex said.
    "Her
name is Fiona."
    "Fiona
Friend." Alex smiled. "That's not a name I'll
forget."
    "I'm
sure the two of you will get along fine." Sir David didn't sound
convinced. He gestured back toward the house. "Why don't we go and
talk in the study?"
    Alex followed
him back across the drive and into the house. The front door opened into a hall
that could have come straight out of the pages of an expensive magazine.
Everything was perfect, the antique furniture, ornaments, and paintings placed
exactly so. There wasn't a speck of dust to be seen and even the
sunlight, streaming in through the windows, seemed almost artificial, as if it
was there only to bring out the best in everything it touched. It was the house
of a man who knows exactly what he wants and has the time and money to get it.
    "Nice
place," Alex said.
    "Thank
you. Please come this way." Sir David opened a heavy, oak-paneled door to
reveal a sophisticated and modern office beyond. There was a desk and two
chairs, a pair of computers, a white leather sofa, and a series of metal
bookshelves. Sir David motioned at the chair and sat down behind the desk.
    He was unsure
of himself. Alex could see it immediately. Sir David Friend might run a
business empire worth millions--seven billions--of dollars, but this
was a new experience for him. Having Alex here, knowing who and what he was, he
wasn't quite sure how to react.
    "I've
been told very little about you," he began. "Alan Blunt got in
touch with me and asked me to put you up here for the rest of the week, to
pretend that you're my son. I have to say, you don't look anything
like me."
    "I
don't look anything like myself either," Alex said.
    "You're
on your way to some school in the French Alps. They want you to investigate
it." He paused. "Nobody asked me my opinion," he said,
"but I'll give it to you anyway. I don't like the idea of a
fourteen-year-old boy being used as a spy. It's dangerous--"
    "I can
look after myself," Alex cut in.
    "I
mean, it's dangerous to the government. If you manage to get yourself
killed and anyone finds out, it could cause the prime minister a great deal of
embarrassment." Sir David sighed. "I advised him against it, but
for once he overruled me. It seems that the decision has already been made.
This school--the academy--has already telephoned me to say that the
assistant director will be coming here to pick you up next Saturday. It's
a woman. A Mrs. Stellenbosch. That's a South African name, I
think."
    Sir David had
a number of bulky files on his desk. He slid them forward. "In the
meantime, I understand you have to familiarize yourself with details about my
family. I've prepared a number of files. You'll also find
information here about the school you're meant to have been expelled
from--Eton. You can start reading them