Read The Curse of the Singing Wolf for Free Online Page B

his arm.
    They walked arm in arm without
speaking and were coming round the cherub fountain when palls of
black smoke began billowing from the little windows of the sous-sol
that provided ventilation and light to the basement of the
hotel.
    “Stay here,” he said urgently,
releasing her arm and patting her hand reassuringly. “I fear there
may be a fire in the kitchens.”
    And off he dashed.
    The two men on the terrace had
not yet noticed the plumes of black smoke. They appeared to find
his impulsive sprint amusing. But when he called: “Fire! Fire!”
they understood the urgency, tossed their cigarettes into the
garden bed and followed hot on his heels.
    The Countess did not heed his
warning to stay put but rushed straight upstairs to her bedroom
where Xenia had already started packing up her jewels, safeguarding
them in fact, for they had once stayed at a hotel where a fire had
broken out and in the ensuing panic several rooms had been
ransacked.
    Even if the fire was genuine
there was always the possibility of it spreading beyond the
underground rooms. Xenia had the luggage standing by and all the
essentials within reach. Fedir had fetched the trunks and
portmanteaux out of the box room at the end of the hall and then
raced downstairs to offer assistance.
    From her balcony window the
Countess could see Dr Watson in the distance, exploring the base of
the lighthouse with a handful of tourists. Someone pointed in the
direction of the hotel and everyone turned to look. Alerted to the
billowing funnel of black smoke, he began to hurry back across the
rocks toward the footbridge that joined le phare to the
mainland. It would take him at least twenty minutes to make his way
back.
    The Countess instructed Xenia
to hold off any packing. A maritime fortress would be bound to have
thick stone walls and sturdy foundations. She doubted the fire
would spread beyond the domestic rooms, and certainly not rapidly.
She stepped back inside the bedroom and closed the French doors to
keep out the smell of smoke and any cinders that might blow in on
currents of air. Xenia remained in the bedchamber while the
Countess hurried downstairs to ascertain the extent of the fire and
to await the arrival of Dr Watson. He would have worked himself up
into a lather, and she wanted to allay any fears before he
panicked.
    The concierge had deserted his
desk and the lobby boy was nowhere to be seen. She could hear loud
voices and banging sounds coming from the stairwell that led down
to the underground rooms. Smoke was creeping up the stairs and
lingering in the foyer but not at an alarming rate. She opened the
heavy front doors to allow the tendrils of smoke to vent, wedging
the double doors with a pair of carved Spanish chairs, before
remembering that oxygen would feed the flames below. Quickly she
closed them again. As she paced the patterned brickwork,
trepidation mounting despite what she’d just told herself about the
sturdiness of fortresses, the heavy front doors flew open. It was
Prince Orczy. He was red in the face from running.
    “What’s happening?” he gasped,
panting heavily. “I had reached the boulevard and was about to
climb into a fiacre when the cabbie pointed out the black clouds
engulfing the hotel. He made some joke about the Apocalypse before
I realized it was smoke. I ran all the way back. Where’s the
fire?”
    That question was answered by
the loud shouting and clatter of metal objects coming from the
floor below. He turned and raced downstairs without waiting for a
reply. At the same time, the Singing Wolf made an appearance. She
was now dressed in black satin from head to toe, a colour that made
most complexions appear sallow, but her olive skin, reminiscent of
the ancient race of Mediterranean pirates who had long ago settled
in this part of the world, could withstand the leeching effect. In
fact, it complimented the sultry features, highlighting the black
eyes and raven hair and the ruby red of her lips. She