Monk went down with a whoosh of escaping air and spittle from his open mouth. To give him credit, he immediately began to rise again, his face red and glowering. Resignedly, Halloran prepared to jab a pressure point in the man's neck to bring the contest to a swift and relatively harmless end.
But Cora strode between them to confront Kline. 'Put a stop to this, Felix,' she demanded. 'Right now.'
Halloran caught the brief flash of rage in the small man's eyes before it was suppressed and Kline beamed a smile of the innocent.
'Only a test, Cora,' he all but simpered. 'No harm done. I needed to know how good this guy was, that's all.'
'He wouldn't have been recommended to us if he wasn't any good,' she replied, her tone modified by now. She turned to Halloran. 'I'm so sorry, this should never have happened.' Monk was clutching his sore ribs with one hand, looking from Halloran to Kline, awaiting further instructions.
'Wait outside,' Kline snapped, obviously displeased with his man's performance. Then, to Halloran as Monk left the room with less ease than he had entered: 'You move pretty fast.'
'If he's your best, you've got problems,' said Halloran.
'Oh, he's not my best; he's my ox.' Kline rose from the dais, a quick feline movement. His eyes seemed even darker than before, and glistened with some inner thought. 'No doubt there are matters you will have to discuss with Cora concerning my future safety. She's my PA—no, much more than that—so feel free to confide in her absolutely. Now I need a shower; I'm beginning to stink.'
'You and I have a lot to go through,' Halloran said to him.
'Tell it to her. I need to rest.' It was a command and Halloran frowned.
The girl touched his arm though, and he looked down at her. Kline was already walking away, heading towards a far corner of the room. He clicked a button on the unit he was still carrying and a door that had been virtually invisible before slid back.
'Felix really does need to rest for a while,' Cora said as they watched him disappear through the opening. 'His special gift often leaves him quite exhausted.' Halloran had noticed the perspiration stain low at the back of Kline's sweatshirt as well as those beneath his arms, and his frown deepened. It was cool in the room, almost uncomfortably so. And when he had touched the small man in the darkness, Kline's skin had been cold.
He remembered that moment, remembered the shudder that had run through him.
For when his fingers had reached out and felt Kline's face in that total darkness, they had touched ridges and creases, dry, wrinkled skin that had no place on the features of a comparatively young man.
Reason told him he must have been mistaken, the shock of the moment creating an illusion, the sudden blinding light instantly wiping the image from his mind.
But now that thought—that feeling—had returned. And Kline, himself, had warned against reason.
7 KLINE'S PREMONITION
Cora picked at the salad, her interest centred on Halloran rather than the food before her. The riverside terrace was beginning to fill with office workers on early lunch break, the fine weather after such a dreary winter proving an attraction. A pleasure-boat filled with pink-faced tourists cruised by, theThames a slatey-blue again after months of sluggish greyness. New buildings lined the bank across the river alongside old decaying warehouses. There was still an edgy chill in the air, but it only served to make the new season more fresh, a cleanness in the breeze sweeping away the dregs of winter.
Halloran was winding his way through the circular tables, holding the two drinks chest high to avoid nudging heads and shoulders of other diners.
She watched and she was just a little afraid of him. The casual way in which he had dealt with Monk's aggression made her wonder how lethal he could be if the situation were desperate. Yet at first glance he seemed anything but a violent man. He was tall, but not massive, his body lean, certainly not muscle-bound. Even his clothes were casual, nothing sharp or self-conscious about them.
That was at first glance. Take another look and notice the pale blue eyes, the warmth in them that could turn to a bleak coldness in an instant. She'd seen that happen when he'd been introduced to Felix. And Felix had been aware of it, too.
That worried her, for Felix might need this enigmatic man, no matter what mutual dislike had already sprung up between them. There was something about I-lalloran's quiet strength that was totally reassuring: he was a man to feel safe with—unless you were his enemy.
Cora thanked him with a smile as Halloran placed the gin and tonic in front of her; she deliberately left it there, aware that she'd taken the first one too fast (to Halloran's surprised amusement). His own was a whisky with ice and he put it to one side as he tucked into his ham salad. She tried a dismal attack on her own food once again, but gave up after a few mouthfuls.
'I don't seem to be very hungry today,' she said, and wondered why it sounded like an apology. She lifted her glass and drank, finding the gin more sustaining than lettuce and cucumber.
Halloran nodded and took a healthy sip of his whisky to keep her company. His smile was gentle.
'What part ofIreland were you born in, Mr Halloran?' Cora asked, the sinking warmth from her second drink already beginning to relax her.
'Call me Liam,' he replied. 'I wasn't born inIreland . My parents were Irish, but I was born here inLondon , although I grew up in Kilkenny. My father was a captain in the British Army, and spent much of his time abroad while mother and I stayed on my grandfather's farm.'
'And did you eventually join the army?'
'It was a natural enough thing to do.' He put down his knife and cut pieces of cheese with the edge of his fork. 'I need to know a good deal about your employer, Miss Redmile. His private life as well as business.'
'Cora.'
'Okay—Cora. Tell me about him. Tell me how long he's been your boss.'
'I joined Magma about five or six years ago, but I haven't worked for Felix all that time.' He encouraged her with a nod.
'Felix took me on as his PA three years ago. I don't know why. He saw me when I was delivering some documents to Sir Victor's office one day from my department on the sixteenth. The documents were urgent and I interrupted their meeting. Apparently he asked about me and the next thing I knew he'd put in a request to have me as an assistant. I wasn't even sure who he was at that time, although I'd heard rumours.'
'Rumours?'
'Yes. No more than office gossip. Felix Kline's presence at Magma has never been official; you won't find his name mentioned in company papers, not even on a pay slip or P.45.'
'Isn't that illegal?'
'Not if he's never been employed by the Magma Corporation. As far as the outside world is concerned, he could just be paying rent for the penthouse suite.'
'Except I bet even that isn't on record,' suggested Halloran.
'The official resident is Sir Victor himself.'
'So Kline's role for the Corporation really is that secret? Your board of directors is afraid that he'll be nabbed by the competition?'
'More than that. There are over a hundred thousand shareholders of Magma, most of themUK
registered: imagine their reaction if they found out their Corporation was guided by a mystic.'
'It's a relief to hear you say that. I was beginning to wonder if I was the one who was out of touch with modern business practices.' Cora laughed and he was glad. She had been tense ever since she'd taken him away from the white room, as if the minor tussle she'd witnessed between himself and the heavy had upset her. Later, in the daylight, he'd noticed a faint darkness beneath her eyes, like smudges under the surface skin, the look of someone who'd recently found sleep difficult. Maybe she was concerned for her employer, worried because the danger to him was considered serious enough to warrant hiring a K & R