his self-righteous expression. ‘Smelled like a distillery, sir.’
MacAlpine smiled faintly. ‘Coming from Glasgow, you should know something about those things. A good job. I owe you an apology, Henry.’
Henry inclined his head. ‘Granted, Mr. MacAlpine.’
Harlow averted his head from this tableau. He hadn’t heard a word of the exchange but then he didn’t have to hear it. Suddenly, like a man making up his mind, he headed for the street door. Mary saw him go, looked around to see if she was being observed, came to the apparent conclusion that she wasn’t, gathered up her two sticks and limped after him. Rory, in his turn, waited for about ten seconds after his sister’s departure then drifted aimlessly towards the door.
Five minutes later Harlow entered a cafe and took a seat at an empty table where he could keep an eye on the entrance. A pretty young waitress approached, opened her eyes and then smiled charmingly. There were few young people of either sex in Europe who did not recognize Harlow on sight.
Harlow smiled back. Tonic and water, please.’
The eyes opened even wider. ‘I beg your pardon, sir.’
‘Tonic and water.’
The waitress, whose opinion of world champion drivers had clearly suffered a sudden revision, brought the drink. He sipped it occasionally, keeping an eye on the entrance door, then frowned as the door opened and Mary, clearly in a very apprehensive mood, entered the cafe. She saw Harlow at once, limped across the room and sat down at the table.
She said: ‘Hallo, Johnny,’ in the voice of one who was far from sure of her reception.
‘I must say I’d expected someone else.’
‘You what?’
‘Someone else.’
‘I don’t understand. Who-’
‘No matter.’ Harlow’s tone was as brusque as his words. ‘Who sent you here to spy on me?’
‘Spy on you? Spy on you?’ She stared at him, the expression on her face one of lack of understanding rather than incredulity. ‘What on earth can you mean?’
Harlow remained implacable. ‘Surely you know what the word ‘spy’ means?’
‘Oh, Johnny!’ The hurt in the big brown eyes was as unmistakable as that in the voice. ‘You know I’d never spy on you.’
Harlow relented, but only marginally. then why are you here?’
‘Aren’t you pleased just to see me?’
That’s neither here nor there. What are you doing in this cafe?’
‘I was — I was just passing by and —’
‘And you saw me and came in.’ Abruptly he pushed back his chain and rose. ‘Wait here.’
Harlow went to the front door, glanced at it briefly and opened it, stepping just outside. He turned and looked for several seconds back up the way he had come, then turned round and looked down the street. But his interest lay in neither direction, but in a doorway directly across the street. A figure stood there, pushed back deeply into the recess. Without appearing to have noticed him, Harlow re-entered the cafe, closed the door behind him and returned to his seat.
He said: ‘Aren’t you lucky to have -those X-ray eyes. Frosted glass all the way and yet you see me sitting here.’
‘All right, Johnny.’ She sounded very weary. ‘I followed you. I’m worried. I’m dreadfully worried.’
‘Aren’t we all now and again. You should see me out on those race-tracks at times.’ He paused, then added with apparent inconsequence: ‘Was Rory still in the hotel when you left?’
She blinked her puzzlement. ‘Yes. Yes he was. I saw him. Just as I was leaving.’
‘Could he have seen you?’
‘That’s a funny question.’
‘I’m a funny fellow. Ask anyone around the racetracks. Could he have seen you?’
‘Well, yes, I suppose he could. Why-why all this concern about Rory?’
T wouldn’t like the poor little lad to be abroad in the streets at night and maybe catch a chill. Or maybe even get mugged.’ Harlow paused consideringly. there’s a thought, now.’
‘Oh, stop it, Johnny! Stop it! I know, Well I know he can’t stand
MacAlpine smiled faintly. ‘Coming from Glasgow, you should know something about those things. A good job. I owe you an apology, Henry.’
Henry inclined his head. ‘Granted, Mr. MacAlpine.’
Harlow averted his head from this tableau. He hadn’t heard a word of the exchange but then he didn’t have to hear it. Suddenly, like a man making up his mind, he headed for the street door. Mary saw him go, looked around to see if she was being observed, came to the apparent conclusion that she wasn’t, gathered up her two sticks and limped after him. Rory, in his turn, waited for about ten seconds after his sister’s departure then drifted aimlessly towards the door.
Five minutes later Harlow entered a cafe and took a seat at an empty table where he could keep an eye on the entrance. A pretty young waitress approached, opened her eyes and then smiled charmingly. There were few young people of either sex in Europe who did not recognize Harlow on sight.
Harlow smiled back. Tonic and water, please.’
The eyes opened even wider. ‘I beg your pardon, sir.’
‘Tonic and water.’
The waitress, whose opinion of world champion drivers had clearly suffered a sudden revision, brought the drink. He sipped it occasionally, keeping an eye on the entrance door, then frowned as the door opened and Mary, clearly in a very apprehensive mood, entered the cafe. She saw Harlow at once, limped across the room and sat down at the table.
She said: ‘Hallo, Johnny,’ in the voice of one who was far from sure of her reception.
‘I must say I’d expected someone else.’
‘You what?’
‘Someone else.’
‘I don’t understand. Who-’
‘No matter.’ Harlow’s tone was as brusque as his words. ‘Who sent you here to spy on me?’
‘Spy on you? Spy on you?’ She stared at him, the expression on her face one of lack of understanding rather than incredulity. ‘What on earth can you mean?’
Harlow remained implacable. ‘Surely you know what the word ‘spy’ means?’
‘Oh, Johnny!’ The hurt in the big brown eyes was as unmistakable as that in the voice. ‘You know I’d never spy on you.’
Harlow relented, but only marginally. then why are you here?’
‘Aren’t you pleased just to see me?’
That’s neither here nor there. What are you doing in this cafe?’
‘I was — I was just passing by and —’
‘And you saw me and came in.’ Abruptly he pushed back his chain and rose. ‘Wait here.’
Harlow went to the front door, glanced at it briefly and opened it, stepping just outside. He turned and looked for several seconds back up the way he had come, then turned round and looked down the street. But his interest lay in neither direction, but in a doorway directly across the street. A figure stood there, pushed back deeply into the recess. Without appearing to have noticed him, Harlow re-entered the cafe, closed the door behind him and returned to his seat.
He said: ‘Aren’t you lucky to have -those X-ray eyes. Frosted glass all the way and yet you see me sitting here.’
‘All right, Johnny.’ She sounded very weary. ‘I followed you. I’m worried. I’m dreadfully worried.’
‘Aren’t we all now and again. You should see me out on those race-tracks at times.’ He paused, then added with apparent inconsequence: ‘Was Rory still in the hotel when you left?’
She blinked her puzzlement. ‘Yes. Yes he was. I saw him. Just as I was leaving.’
‘Could he have seen you?’
‘That’s a funny question.’
‘I’m a funny fellow. Ask anyone around the racetracks. Could he have seen you?’
‘Well, yes, I suppose he could. Why-why all this concern about Rory?’
T wouldn’t like the poor little lad to be abroad in the streets at night and maybe catch a chill. Or maybe even get mugged.’ Harlow paused consideringly. there’s a thought, now.’
‘Oh, stop it, Johnny! Stop it! I know, Well I know he can’t stand
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