Unholy Ghost by James Green Read Free Book Online Page B

elbow?’
    â€˜Young Hitler?’
    â€˜Ma Colmar’s SS lover-boy.’
    â€˜No, follow that up. I doubt it will give us anything but my woman isn’t ready to be put into the picture yet, it’s too premature. Really, Mr Costello, I thought I might have been able to rely on you simply to do as you were told for a few days at least.’
    â€˜Not get turned over and bounced out? No, well, if it’s any consolation, I wasn’t expecting it myself.’
    â€˜No, I suppose you are not altogether to blame but please do try not to make any more …’
    She paused looking for the right words. Jimmy offered a suggestion.
    â€˜Fuss?’
    â€˜Any more complications. This is a delicate enough matter without you making it more so.’
    Jimmy was about to say something but thought better of it. Just get on with the job.
    â€˜What about your woman?’
    â€˜I’ll tell you what I decide about that when you report in from Munich. I wanted all this to happen quietly in Paris but now …. Really, Mr Costello, you do complicate things sometimes.’
    â€˜I know, I get knifed, beautiful blondes die because of me, and I get deported without reason. I guess I’m unlucky. I can see how it would all be a nuisance for you.’
    â€˜Yes, I’m sorry, I can see that it probably isn’t altogether your fault. But please try to keep a low profile from now on. I am almost certain that I will need you to go back to Paris and that has now become a problem. Well, I will just have to deal with it. Get on with the Munich thing.’
    â€˜If that’s what you want.’
    â€˜I do.’
    â€˜Can you get me the address of the care home? It’ll save a lot of time and nosing about.’
    â€˜Yes. Call me when you arrive. I’ll have the address and anything else I can find which may be useful to you.’
    And she was gone.
    Jimmy put his phone away and took a drink of his beer. It didn’t taste of anything in particular, it was too cold. Devious she may be, but she was also efficient. He’d get his address and anything else she could dig up.
    He looked at his watch and then at the departure board. The plane would be boarding soon. Oh well, onwards and downwards. At least now he knew that at some point McBride was going to slip in a woman to claim the inheritance and this time he knew in advance. That was good. But he still didn’t know what it was really all about and he still didn’t know who had turned over his hotel room. It wasn’t the police, they weren’t shy about such things, they just kicked the door in and got on with it. They certainly wouldn’t have waited till the room was empty. He went over what he knew again and came to the conclusion that all in all he knew damn all. And that was bad.
    His flight number clicked over to ‘Boarding’. He took another sip from his beer and decided to leave it. He’d probably be airborne before it lost enough chill to see what it tasted like.
    He picked up his holdall and headed in the direction of his gate. A crumpled man again, with no spring in his step and no spring in his heart. A man who was letting go, slipping away, from Paris and from everything else that he had tried so hard to cling on to. 

Chapter Eleven
    It wasn’t a particularly large living room but it was definitely too small for the way it was furnished. In the centre was a heavy, dark wood table on a bulbous pedestal with ornate feet. Against a wall was a large Welsh dresser affair in the same dark wood which was littered with china ornaments except for one shelf which was filled with photographs in silver frames. On the walls there were more framed photographs and three pictures. One was a landscape in oils mounted in an elaborate, gilded frame, the other two were prints in simpler frames. Both were religious monstrosities, a vacuous Madonna in blue robes staring upwards presumably to heaven, and a