Read Ice Storm for Free Online

across his nose, colorless eyes and thinning white hair. “You forget—I’ve been in this business since before you were born. I have resources you wouldn’t imagine.”
    “And you didn’t consider it important to pass those resources along?”
“They won’t talk to anyone but me. Are you in sonic kind of hurry? You keep looking at your watch. If I’m boring you, I can always leave. Isobel is an old hand at this sort of thing, and used to surprises. She’ll probably survive.” In another lifetime Harry Thomason would be dead within minutes of walking in the door. Peter didn’t like him, didn’t trust him, which in the past would have been almost enough to find his death worth it. The fact that he wanted Isobel dead would have put him over the edge, and Thomason would be a corpse. But Peter didn’t do that anymore. For the sake of his wife, who was already waiting for him. For the sake of his old friends, who needed a stable presence in the Kensington office. Hell, for the sake of the new operative Peter was supposed to be picking up at Heathrow later that night. Sir Harry Thomason would live to cause trouble. So Peter kept his hand away from the drawer that held his Glock, the drawer Thomason knew existed, and leaned back in the chair. His leg was bothering him—the cold damp was getting to it. His limp would be more pronounced by evening, and Genny would fuss.
    “I don’t wish to be inhospitable, but I have a meeting.”
    “Don’t let me keep you. I’ll be fine here at the office, catching up on things. And don’t think for a moment you can kick me out. I’m your boss, as I always was. Just one step higher up. I have access to all the information in this office anytime I want it.
“Then what are you doing here? Why don’t you go back to your country house, have a brandy and ferret through our Intel at your leisure?”
    Thomason’s smile was slow and annoying. “You don’t like me, Madsen. You never did, and I expect my ordering you to terminate Bastien Toussaint was the final straw. I didn’t realize you went both ways for pleasure as well as duty. I don’t imagine your wife or Bastien’s little hausfrau would be pleased to hear about that.”
    Peter merely looked at him. ‘Do you seriously believe you’ll annoy me with something a puerile as that? You’ve lost your edge in your retirement.”
    The pale pink in Thomason’s plump cheeks darkened. “Hardly retirement, dear boy. And your sexual activities are of no interest to me.”
    “I’m relieved to hear it. I’ve given up fucking for the Committee, so I’m afraid I’d have to turn you down.”
    That last was possibly a mistake. Thomason was a vindictive, petty man, and he wouldn’t like having his virility questioned, particularly since he was so well closeted he was practically immured. But he was an old hand at this game, a worthy opponent, and he barely blinked, his pouchy eyes darting like a lizard’s. “Let’s keep this civilized, shall we’? I know the veneer of breeding is particularly thin in your case, but I would hope it wouldn’t crack so easily. You aren’t so far removed from that bloody little brat who almost beat another child to death with his bare hands. Your talent for violence started early on, long before your pretensions to gentility. Just because your carelessness got you crippled and stuck in an office doesn’t mean your killer instinct is gone.”
“You should keep that in mind,” Peter said, unmoved by Thomason’s taunts. “In the meantime, whether or not you’re my superior, I’m not leaving this office unlocked. If you’re allowed access to our files, then you should be able to bring them up on your own computer.” Thomason had always been a notorious technophobe, but it was also unlike him to trust anyone enough to help him. The life expectancy for his secretaries and personal assistants had been appallingly short. Thomason made a sound halfway between a grunt and a snarl. “Then I take it