The Gods' Gambit by David Lee Marriner Read Free Book Online

swastika on Costov’s chest
with the eagle-claw blade. When he finished, he picked up one of the fine
brushes and began to draw strange symbols on the carpet using the blood from
the bowl as paint. When he had drawn the last symbol, he put the bowl aside,
grabbed the horn with both hands and held it over Costov’s chest. For what
seemed like several long moments, the man stood motionless, his eyes staring
from behind the yellow veil into the face of his victim.
    The drug Costov had been given began to loosen its hold and
his mind started to clear. Tears streamed from the corners of his eyes and he
began to cry inwardly in silent agony. He knew what was happening now. It was
the resumption of the assault that had taken place in his apartment in
Bulgaria. He had never truly believed that the assault was a robbery, even
though that was the main hypothesis the police investigation was pursuing. The
fact that the attacker had taken two of his precious paintings and his wallet
had not convinced him, because he had looked into his eyes. They were the cold
and inhuman eyes of a merciless killer. Costov now realized why he had been
left alive in his apartment despite the intruder having had the chance to do
with him whatever he wanted.
    They want to perform a ritualistic killing. Lord!
    With a deep intake of breath, the veiled man raised the horn
and, with the power of a woodcutter chopping a log, he plunged it deep into
Stefan Costov’s heart.
     
     
     

CHAPTER SEVEN
     
    The Whiteway Estate, Hampshire, UK
     
    Having finished his morning tea ritual, James donned his
tracksuit and trainers ready to go for a run in the forest. While he was
warming up in the porch, he spotted his estate manager, Lao Boonliang, coming
out of the stables. Lao was a short, slim man with a muscular body who looked
about fifty but was in fact sixty years old. Lao was from Thailand, and,
together with his wife Pema, who was of Tibetan origin, he lived in a bungalow
in the woods about forty metres away from the main house. James’ parents had
hired both Lao and his wife not long after James had been born. Pema had been
James’ nanny and had taken care of the household. The couple had lived and
worked there ever since. James had grown up as close to Lao, Pema and their
only daughter, Malee, who now lived in London, as to his parents.
    Lao spotted James in the porch. “Good morning, James.” He
joined his palms in front of his chest in greeting, a traditional Thai bow.
    James saluted him in an identical way.
    “We could do a training session together,” said Lao.
    “I only had a quick jog in mind this morning,” replied
James.
    “Very good, but first, do me the honour of practicing with
me. Then you can do your running.”
    Lao was a Muay Thai master. He had taught James the secrets
of this traditional style of Thai boxing since James’ early teens. They
normally trained together every Thursday evening but James had skipped the last
few sessions because he had to work on the final draft of the Star Gods manuscript. Now Lao was trying to make him catch up. James didn’t feel like
doing anything except taking a refreshing run in the forest. He and Elizabeth
had spent most of the night making love. He could still feel a relaxing
weakness in his muscles. However, he knew that this time Lao would not take
‘no’ for an answer. He had become increasingly insistent about James’ boxing
training, especially after he got a job about a year ago as a supernumerary
religious analyst in the British security services. James had tried more than
once to convince him that this new job didn’t differ too much from his writer’s
job, but this didn’t seem to change Lao’s attitude at all. “In this business,
one can never be sure of anything,” had been Lao’s response.
    The gym occupied about one-third of the former stable block.
It was fully equipped, including punchbags, a mannequin for precision hitting
and a Thai-style boxing ring. In addition, it