The Blue Ring by A. J. Quinnell Read Free Book Online Page A

him
something?"
    If
Birgitte could have heard the other side of the conversation she would have
heard a male voice saying, "Yes, two small silent ones. Did I do
wrong?"
    "No.
Did my son leave a forwarding address?"
    "No.
He had phoned earlier. I met him at the airport with another guy. I guess they
caught an onward flight."
    "Thanks.
How's your father?"
    "Getting
old and bad-tempered."
    Creasy
smiled and said, "Give him my respects." He hung up and turned to
Birgitte. "As soon as I contact your husband, I'll tell him to call you.
Don't be worried."

Chapter 12
    It had
only taken six days for Hanne Andersen to become a complete heroin addict. She had not seen Philippe
again. After that first time a different man brought the tray with her friend on
it. He was tall, fair-haired, in his mid-forties and very handsome. During
those six days he also appeared to be charming, talking to her gently and
reassuringly. He told her that his name was Carlo. On the first occasion he had
freed her from her ropes and she was able to move around the windowless room.
He had also brought her a new red tracksuit and some cloth slippers and three
pairs of white panties. He spoke English with an Italian accent. The only other
person she saw was the old woman who brought her food and took her to the
bathroom down the corridor. She was only allowed to go to the bathroom shortly
after she had been injected so that she was completely placid.
    After
the sixth day the injections stopped. They had allowed her to keep her watch.
It was a silver Georg Jensen, an eighteenth birthday present from her parents,
and her most valued possession. By the sixth day she knew that Carlo would
bring her the heroin every six hours, just at the time when she was beginning
to feel the pangs for it. At first the pangs were minimal, but as the days went
by they grew sharper.
    On the
sixth day she kept glancing anxiously at her watch. The six hours stretched
out. After nine hours she was lying on the bed, shivering. She leapt up when
the key of the door turned. It was the old woman with the tray. On it was a
bowl of soup and a bowl of spaghetti.
    "Where
is Carlo?" Hanne asked in a tremulous voice.
    The old
woman silently walked across the room, placed the tray on the bedside table and
turned back to the door.
    "Where
is Carlo?" Hanne asked again, and then repeated the question in French
more loudly.
    Without
a word the old woman went through the metal doorway and the door clanged shut
behind her. Hanne heard the key scrape in the lock and the bolt slide home. She
sat up beside the bed and reached for the spoon. Her hand was shaking, and she
could hardly get the soup to her mouth without spilling it. It tasted of
nothing, and she dropped the spoon back into the bowl. For several minutes she
sat shivering on the bed, staring at the wall, and then she rolled onto her
back and pulled the blanket over her and suffered through the night.
    He came
at seven o'clock on the morning of the seventh day. He was holding the small
metal tray with the syringe. She was sitting in the corner of the room, her
knees pulled up against her chest, her arms wrapped around her knees, her eyes
only half open. He smiled at her.
    She
pushed herself to her feet, asking querulously, "Where have you
been?" Her eyes were not on him. They were focused on the tray in his
hands. He smiled and held out the tray as though it were a present to a small
child.
    "Here
is your friend," he said.
    She
moved across the room, pulling up the sleeve of her tracksuit. He put the tray
on the bedside table. She moved towards it eagerly, but he held up his hand.
    "Wait.
First I want you to do something."
    "What?"
    He
smiled disarmingly. "I want you to kiss me."
    At
first her face was puzzled. "What?"
    He
smiled again and spread his hands. "To kiss me, is that so difficult? Am I
so ugly?"
    She
took a step backwards, her face now showing alarm. She shook her head as though
clearing it from a blow. "No," she mumbled.