Fitzrovia Twilight (Nick Valentine Book 1) by James White Page A

obviously looked inside it but… He gently lifted the trumpet and felt inside the neck. His heart skipped a beat as his fingers touched rolled up paper. He started to tease it out with his finger then froze. A key rattled in the outer door’s lock. Nick looked around desperately as the door slammed and a key slotted into the flat’s front door. He was trapped.
     
    Nick gripped the bottle of Scotch in his hand and moved behind the bedroom door as the front door shut. To his surprise, whoever it was flicked the lights on. Footsteps moved through the flat, a long shadow filled the door frame. There was a click as the lights were thrown in the bedroom. Nick held his breath. A figure entered the room.
                  “What the…?” Nick’s breath blew out like a deflating balloon and he lowered the bottle as Lucia whirled at the sound of his voice, stepping back at the same time in shock. Her right hand dived at her small clutch bag, but she hesitated as she saw it was Nick. She quickly managed to replace the flicker of fear with a cold smile.
                  “Well, look what the cat dragged in.” She looked at the mess scattered around the jumbled room. “You do this?”
                  “No.” Nick stepped out from behind the door and advanced a pace towards her. She quickly backed up, banging against the bureau and this time her hand went in her clutch.
                  “Don’t come any nearer,” she warned, the smile gone. Her eyes were hard.
                  “Or what? You going to stab me?” Nick unplugged his Scotch and took another pull, watching her all the while.
                  “Maybe I’ll shoot you.”
                  “Maybe you will. But you’ll need a gun first and that bag’s not big enough for one. Not unless you’ve got a tiny twenty-two, but then you’d have to hit me right in the head first time to stop me. Besides, I’m not going to hurt you.”
                  “I’m so glad you’ve put my mind at rest. Who says it’ll be you that does the hurting?” She pulled her empty hand free of the bag and clicked it shut emphatically. “Why’d you wreck the joint?”
                  “I already told you, I didn’t.” Nick moved and sat on the bed. Lucia leaned back against the bureau and regarded him through narrow eyes. She reached for the bag, making Nick flinch. She regarded him with something like amusement and held a cigarette up with a smile.
    “Usually, when I find a drunk man in a wrecked flat, it’s odds on he’s wrecked it.”
                  “I’m not drunk,” he replied, as she exhaled a cloud of smoke and slipped the lighter back into her bag.
                  “No. You’re just having fun. What are you doing here Mr…?”
                  “Valentine. Nick Valentine. I might ask you the same thing. Why are you skulking about a dead girl’s flat in the middle of the night? And how come you let yourself in with a set of keys, Miss…?”
                  “Navarro. Lucia Navarro. At least I have keys, Mr Valentine. I’m sure if I were to call the police they’d take a dim view of your breaking and entering. You know, I don’t believe you work for the War Office at all. Shall we see what the police say?” Her hand caressed the telephone receiver on the desk.
                  Nick smiled. “We both know you’re not going to do that. I’m sure you’d have too many questions of your own to answer.”
    Annoyance flashed across her face. “You know, your act wasn’t very convincing back at the club.”
                  “Which one?”
                  “The infatuated clerk trying to chat up the woman. Mind you, your dancing was lousy, too.”
                  “Well thanks. So we going to dance around each other all night or are we going to level with each