The Alex King Series, A BATEMAN [good books for high schoolers .TXT] 📗

booked to him, secured via London. Nobody should have known he was staying here, but somebody evidently did. And the Sami who had unsuccessfully hunted them out on the ice; he would have known where he and Stewart were headed. There was nothing else up this far north. The hotel was their most obvious destination.

King took his knife out of his pocket, opened the blade, and tucked it into his back pocket, the blade sandwiched between the fold of his leather wallet, holding it firmly in place like a makeshift sheath. It was ready, concealed and would save valuable tenths of a second in reaching for it. He placed the bag on the floor, checked the Walther and held it ready, down by the side of his leg. He picked up the bag, continued down the corridor. Trepidation in his chest, a leaden feeling in his legs. He tensed the muscles there, got the blood flowing and the acid build up relaxed once more. He thought back to the manager. Was it a look of disdain, incredulousness? Or was it a knowing smile? Hotel managers were the same the world over. They had seen everything, every trait of human nature. Or they thought they had. They saw infidelities; affairs happen under their roof. They heard what state the rooms were left in. What had been left behind, knowingly or otherwise. They saw more than they should. And with that came an air of arrogance.

Your guest has gone on up…

King hesitated one door down from his room. He placed the bag down quietly. What the hell was he walking into? He didn’t cock the Walther’s hammer. It would only give him away. The trigger would be a harder pull, but the following shots with the hammer locked back would be light. He breathed deeply, swiped the card and kicked the door inwards, covering the room with the Walther.

Nobody.

Bed, chair, table, luggage stand, wall-mounted television.

Suitcase on the luggage stand…

He stepped inside the room and allowed the door to close softly behind him. His heart was pounding, but he heard the gentle splash of water coming from the bathroom and caught hold of the doorknob. He opened it an inch, the pistol held at waist level with the muzzle touching the door. The punchy little 7.65mm bullet could cut through the two-and-a-half-inch pine cleanly at this range. He opened the door a touch and the aroma of bath salts hit him. Hints of pine and berries. Christmassy overtones. The steam had wet everything in the bathroom and he couldn’t see anything in the glass of the shower screen or the mirrors above the sink.

“Just in time to wash my back…”

King applied the safety and tucked the pistol into his pocket without Caroline seeing. He smiled as he looked down at her, tantalisingly covered by bubbles, her wet skin glistening and turned pinkish from the heat.

“What happened to the sabbatical?”

Caroline held a finger to her lips and shushed him. “Afterwards,” she said.

“Afterwards?” he asked, feigning confusion, yet starting to untuck his shirt and sweater.

“Afterwards,” she smiled. “Now shut the door, you’re letting all the heat out…”

King ripped the shirt and sweater over his head and kicked the door shut. He started on his boots and socks, pulling them off and tossing them on the wet, tiled floor, and was about to tackle his belt and trousers, but Caroline reached up and grabbed the front of his trousers and pulled him down on top of her, sending a huge wave of soapy water over the bathroom floor. She laughed as the waves continued to break over the back of the bath and swamped everything on the floor.

“Now,” she said. “Show me how much you’ve missed me…”

27

 

“So, are we a couple now?”

“What?”

“A couple. I mean, we’re shacked up in the same room. We’ve been sleeping together since the summer…”

“On and off…”

“Splitting hairs.”

“I just…”

Marnie sipped some wine and grinned. “God, you’re a shithead. I’m winding you up.”

“Oh,” said Rashid.

“I must admit,” she said, placing her wine glass down and picking up some ryebread and her butter knife. “It was a bit presumptuous of the office to get just one room for us. We’re not a couple, never made anything public either. I’m not a field agent, and I haven’t had any training for this.”

“What, dinner and sex?” Rashid smiled. “You’re an attractive, and dare I say, experienced young woman. What additional training do you need?”

She shook her head. “Now, you’re getting presumptuous.”

“Have you missed me?”

“No.” She buttered the bread, cut it into quarters and popped a piece in her mouth. “You?”

“Of course,” he sipped his orange juice and smiled. “You’ll see how much later.”

“Oh, promises,” she sighed. “Still, I think either Director Amherst or Simon Mereweather assume a great deal of their employees.”

Rashid laughed. “Well, actually, I’d better confess,” he paused. “Neil Ramsay booked us two rooms. When I checked us in, I just thought, well, you know…”

“You thought you’d get lucky? Without putting in the ground work, for old time’s sake? Not even so much as a bunch of flowers.”

Rashid smiled. “Well, yeah, I guess that was it. And you’d get lucky too, of course.”

Marnie laughed. She moved aside a touch as the waitress brought her smoked salmon salad and placed it down in front of her. The waitress walked around the table and placed Rashid’s reindeer steak in front of him. She smiled, asked it they wanted anything else and was moving away as they said no in unison. Marnie looked back at Rashid. “Oh, you would be getting lucky tonight, had you not pulled that stunt on me. I’d have given you everything, and more…”

“Oh,” he said solemnly. “I have a feeling I’ve crapped out.”

“And then some,” she said. She smeared the