The Atlas Murders by John Molloy Read Free Book Online

girls in some of these foreign countries,
it looks like there will be no other way than a detective sailing undercover to
try and flush him out. At that it’s going to be difficult and dangerous,
because if he ever discovers your identity, you'll be in mortal danger. Another
killing to him will be of little consequence, and we'll be of no help to you
when you're out on the oceans of the world. Now I'm not pressurizing either of
you to take this assignment; it'll be up to the bosses to prepare an undercover
man and plant him on board that ship. We'll leave it at that for the present. It
could take several days before Tom will have any developments from abroad.
    Henry, if you have anything
to ask or if anything crops up before we meet again just call. Tom and I will
be here every day. In the meantime, will you try to relax and do a bit of
sightseeing if you're not going back to Runcorn.
    "Yes, I'll be staying
around for quite a while. If there's going to be an undercover man sailing on
this ship, I’ll certainly be willing. So you need not look any further."
    "Henry that’s settled.
I’m sure you’ll get approval from on high. I’ll put you forward as the best man
for the job."
     Tom turned to Henry with a
benevolent look. "You have my full backing also.”
     
    Henry left the building and
sought out a bookshop where he purchased a large atlas. Back in his bedroom he
started to mark in the ship’s itinerary and made copious notes in the blank
areas between the maps.

 
     
    Chapter Eight
     
     He arrived at The Dorchester
early, at seven thirty and he decided to spend some time walking around nearby Hyde
Park. However, he couldn't enjoy the balmy evening as he shared the beautiful
manicured lawns and riotous colored flowerbeds with strolling couples. All he
could see was Shirley in every young laughing girl. Her warm smile and trusting
eyes, her unbounded love of life. Fate has no compromise. He felt like shouting
out: all you beautiful young wonderful people enjoy yourselves, who knows where
the dark angel lays in waiting to wrap you in his dark cloak of sorrow.
    The sky was tinted a feminine
pink as he turned back to the great hotel. Its imposing facade overlooking the
green swaths of the park. It was five minutes to eight as he walked to the
front desk. He was approached by a young gentleman dressed immaculately in
tuxedo with bow tie.
    "Excuse me sir, would
you be Mr. Henry Carter?"
     "Yes that's me."
     "I've been asked by The
Honorable Miss Twist to show you to the lounge where she'll join you
shortly." He led Henry to a comfortable leather lounge chair. "Now sir
would you like something to drink while you're waiting, I can recommend our
finest scotch, or a beer if it so suits."
    "I'll have a scotch with
ice please."
    Henry took in his opulent
surroundings while he waited for his drink. A small party arrived in the lobby.
There were bellhops in plenty and a concerned looking manager fussed around.
Someone important was a guest, he thought. Yes, he couldn't mistake her as she
turned her full profile, beautifully radiant. It was indeed Bridgette Bardot.
    His scotch arrived with pomp
and civility. Sipping his drink, he mused about the title that was accorded to
Miss Twist. What an enigma she was turning out to be. The thought dissolved as
he saw her coming towards him. He stood to catch her attention and stepped
forward to meet her. He was stunned at the beauty and presence that met him.
The high- heeled shoes gave her figure an imposing and very fetching approach;
downright sexy would describe it better. She wore a figure hugging off the
shoulder, smoky gray dress, with a light silk pastel nightshade blue stole
across her creamy pale shoulders.
    "Good evening Henry, she
pouted. “I hope I haven't kept you waiting?"
    "No, I've only just
arrived."
     "We'll have time for a
drink. Dinner is not served until eight thirty."
     The tuxedoed waiter appeared
out of nowhere.  
    "What would you like to
drink?" enquired