Read 1977 - I Hold the Four Aces for Free Online Page B

herself.
    “That was well done,” she said.
    “When one lives in cities, one has to do this kind of thing or cease to exist.” Grenville took her arm.
    “Just a short walk. You’ll be amused. I hope you are hungry.”
    Helga, used to the deluxe restaurants of Paris, wasn’t sure that she was going to be amused when she saw the dowdy entrance of this bistro with dirty curtains, dull brass work on the door, and when Grenville opened the door, to find a long narrow room crowded with heavy, ageing Frenchmen, eating ferociously.
    An enormous man, bald, with a belly like a beer barrel, came from behind the bar, his fat face, with many chins, wreathed in smiles.
    “Monsieur Grenville! Impossible! How long it has been!” he grasped Grenville’s hand, pumping it up and down.
    “Claude!” Grenville said, smiling. “I have brought a very special friend. Madame Rolfe.” He turned to Helga, “This is Claude who once was the head chef at le Tour d'Argent. He and I have known each other for years.”
    A little dazed, Helga shook hands with the enormous man as Grenville went on, “Something special, Claude. Nothing too heavy. You understand?”
    “Of course, Monsieur Grenville. Come this way,” and under the staring eyes of the eaters, Claude, panting a little, led Helga and Grenville through a doorway to a small dining-room with four tables, comfortable, intimate and immaculate.
    “But this is nice,” Helga exclaimed, surprised as Grenville pulled out a chair for her. “I didn’t know such places existed in Paris.”
    Grenville and Claude exchanged smiles.
    “They do, and this is one of my favourites,” Grenville said as he sat down. “Now tell me, would you like a fish lunch?”
    “Yes.”
    Grenville turned to Claude.
    “Then six Belons each and the sole cardinal. Let us have a Muscadet.”
    “Certainly, Monsieur Grenville. Perhaps an aperitif?”
    Grenville looked at Helga who shook her head.
    “In a few minutes, Monsieur Grenville.” Claude went away.
    “You won’t be disappointed. The sole cardinal is the best in Paris. The sauce is made with double cream and Danish shrimps and lobster shells ground minutely.” He offered her his cigarette case.
    As Helga took a cigarette, she said, “This is a beautiful case.”
    “Yes a present from an Austrian count. I did him a minor service.” Grenville thought of the dreadful hours he had spent, pushing the fat woman around the ballroom.
    Helga looked sharply at him. Was there a mocking expression in the dark brown eyes?
    “And what are you doing in Paris?” she asked.
    “Business and pleasure.” He waved his hand in dismissal. “I take it you are here to buy clothes. Will you be staying long?”
    “I am also here on business, but I shall also be buying clothes.”
    Grenville appeared to be surprised.
    “I can’t believe a woman as beautiful as you, can be in Paris on business. Surely not!” Then he clapped his hand to his forehead. “Rolfe? Of course! The Madame Rolfe! How stupid can I be!”
    The oysters arrived in a bed of crushed ice and Claude hovered.
    “They are truly splendid, Monsieur Grenville. I have fed them myself.”
    They were splendid.
    Grenville nodded his approval, and Claude went back to the kitchen.
    Smiling, Grenville said, “So you are the fabulous Madame Rolfe. I can’t pick up a newspaper without reading about you. I am flattered. And you are staying at the same hotel as I am, what a coincidence!”
    Helga looked straight at him.
    “I happen to be an extremely wealthy woman who finds life often excessively boring, being in my position,” she said quietly.
    Grenville regarded her, then nodded sympathetically.
    “Yes. I can imagine: the prying eyes of the press, no real freedom, gossip and great responsibility.” He shook his head as he speared an oyster. “Yes, I understand.”
    “What is your business?” Helga asked abruptly. She now wanted information about this exciting man.
    “This and that. Don’t let us spoil a