fearless, she wore a black evening dress of soft fabric that clung to her waist and hips and left her shapely breasts nearly bare. And she looked bored. The two men with her at the buffet seemed to know it as they nibbled their crackers and paté and talked with nervous smiles.
Alec wondered how a woman of her magnetism would have gotten mixed up with the kind of boor that Derek Bates obviously was. Possibly for the screwing , he thought, and felt a surge of warmth cross his forehead and temples. She had asked to meet him!
Feeling as though some of Farber’s money would be well spent on such a woman, Alec drained his glass. “You go ahead, and I’ll join you,” he said. “I just want a few more words with Jack here, and a refill.”
He turned to Farber after the other man had gone. “Why don’t you get one of your own people to find your stuff for you?”
“Because I don’t want any of my own people to know. I’m sure you can appreciate the need for privacy in this kind of business.”
Farber was still smiling, but Alec thought he detected a hint of impatience. He liked that, liked holding this rich little man’s money and keeping him waiting, not giving him even a promise.
The barman handed Alec his drink. “Well, then,” Alec said, taking a healthy swallow, “one thing that puzzles me is why someone like you would want it. You don’t look the sort.”
Farber’s liquid blue eyes blinked once or twice. “It’s not for me. It’s for a friend. Now do I have your commitment or don’t I?”
It annoyed Alec that Farber would just come up to him and assume he would do what Farber wanted. “It may cost you more,” he said. “If I find out it costs more, I’ll have to charge you.”
“If it’s quality goods, I’m willing to pay what it’s worth over here. I’ll come prepared to go a bit higher. When can we meet?”
Alec figured him for at least another five hundred. “How soon does your friend need it?”
“Tuesday afternoon. At the latest.”
He finished his drink, taking his time. “Why don’t you have lunch with me at the Palace on Tuesday? Make it twelve-fifteen.”
A few minutes later, Alec stood at one corner of the buffet, occupied with Helen Bates and what remained of his fifth stinger. As they talked, he looked directly at her breasts for a long moment to see if she would blush, and felt a wave of excitement when she didn’t.
“What I want to know,” he said, using the approach he reserved for the bold ones, “is what you want to do now that you’ve met me. Some women want an autograph on an album cover.”
Her voice was a rich contralto. “Some women want more, I’d imagine.”
“Which kind are you?”
“The kind who wants more. I want the key to your hotel room.”
He looked back at her breasts again, and then into her eyes. “Just the key?”
Her fingertips touched his wrist, lightly. “Bring your key to my hotel room. After tomorrow, when Derek’s away in Elche for the games. We’ll have a week until the team comes back.”
“What happens if I don’t bring my key?”
“We’ll both be disappointed.”
12
When it was nine-thirty at night in Madrid, it was one-thirty in the afternoon in Utah, Mountain Daylight Time. Eugene Groves was now one hundred fifty-two miles away from the Dugway Proving Ground, where he had obtained the Cobor grenades. He sat in his jeep watching a truck-stop restaurant along Interstate 70, east of Green River.
The sun, almost directly overhead, was burning the back of his neck above the collar of his uniform shirt. Worse, he felt exposed. He had tried putting up the canvas top of the jeep when he first came onto the Interstate a hundred twenty miles back, and had nearly been blown off the highway when the rusted clamp at the top of the windshield snapped open, letting the air billow under the fabric and fling the jeep back like a toy sailboat. Scared the hell out of him, and made him even more conspicuous. He had to
Alec wondered how a woman of her magnetism would have gotten mixed up with the kind of boor that Derek Bates obviously was. Possibly for the screwing , he thought, and felt a surge of warmth cross his forehead and temples. She had asked to meet him!
Feeling as though some of Farber’s money would be well spent on such a woman, Alec drained his glass. “You go ahead, and I’ll join you,” he said. “I just want a few more words with Jack here, and a refill.”
He turned to Farber after the other man had gone. “Why don’t you get one of your own people to find your stuff for you?”
“Because I don’t want any of my own people to know. I’m sure you can appreciate the need for privacy in this kind of business.”
Farber was still smiling, but Alec thought he detected a hint of impatience. He liked that, liked holding this rich little man’s money and keeping him waiting, not giving him even a promise.
The barman handed Alec his drink. “Well, then,” Alec said, taking a healthy swallow, “one thing that puzzles me is why someone like you would want it. You don’t look the sort.”
Farber’s liquid blue eyes blinked once or twice. “It’s not for me. It’s for a friend. Now do I have your commitment or don’t I?”
It annoyed Alec that Farber would just come up to him and assume he would do what Farber wanted. “It may cost you more,” he said. “If I find out it costs more, I’ll have to charge you.”
“If it’s quality goods, I’m willing to pay what it’s worth over here. I’ll come prepared to go a bit higher. When can we meet?”
Alec figured him for at least another five hundred. “How soon does your friend need it?”
“Tuesday afternoon. At the latest.”
He finished his drink, taking his time. “Why don’t you have lunch with me at the Palace on Tuesday? Make it twelve-fifteen.”
A few minutes later, Alec stood at one corner of the buffet, occupied with Helen Bates and what remained of his fifth stinger. As they talked, he looked directly at her breasts for a long moment to see if she would blush, and felt a wave of excitement when she didn’t.
“What I want to know,” he said, using the approach he reserved for the bold ones, “is what you want to do now that you’ve met me. Some women want an autograph on an album cover.”
Her voice was a rich contralto. “Some women want more, I’d imagine.”
“Which kind are you?”
“The kind who wants more. I want the key to your hotel room.”
He looked back at her breasts again, and then into her eyes. “Just the key?”
Her fingertips touched his wrist, lightly. “Bring your key to my hotel room. After tomorrow, when Derek’s away in Elche for the games. We’ll have a week until the team comes back.”
“What happens if I don’t bring my key?”
“We’ll both be disappointed.”
12
When it was nine-thirty at night in Madrid, it was one-thirty in the afternoon in Utah, Mountain Daylight Time. Eugene Groves was now one hundred fifty-two miles away from the Dugway Proving Ground, where he had obtained the Cobor grenades. He sat in his jeep watching a truck-stop restaurant along Interstate 70, east of Green River.
The sun, almost directly overhead, was burning the back of his neck above the collar of his uniform shirt. Worse, he felt exposed. He had tried putting up the canvas top of the jeep when he first came onto the Interstate a hundred twenty miles back, and had nearly been blown off the highway when the rusted clamp at the top of the windshield snapped open, letting the air billow under the fabric and fling the jeep back like a toy sailboat. Scared the hell out of him, and made him even more conspicuous. He had to
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