"Archer, Geoffrey - The Burma Legacy" - читать интересную книгу автора (Archer Geoffrey)

night.
"We still going to be able to toast the Millennium with you guys
tonight?" Midge checked, stepping onto the foredeck and spreading out a
towel to lie on.
"Maybe." As Squires watched her apply cream to her legs, he smiled like
a man who'd spotted a trap but who reckoned falling into it might be
rather pleasurable. He turned his attention to Sam again. "By the way,
Steve, I was interested in what you were saying last night."
There was something distinctly disingenuous about the way Squires said
it.
"Anything in particular?"
"How you preserve confidentiality when you're hiding clients" money
. . ."
It was as if Squires was testing him on his cover story, but he played
along. No alternative. He talked about nominee holdings and anonymous
accounts. Squires listened hard, putting in questions every few minutes.
"Interested for yourself?" Sam queried.
The drug trader half-smiled and shook his head. "For a friend."
It always was. "I'll get you one of my cards. You can pass it on to him."
A charade, but it couldn't be him that ended it. As he turned to enter the
saloon Squires called after him.
"While you're at it, give me one of Beth's too."
Sam rummaged in his bag for the visiting cards they'd printed the
previous day. Then he felt the boat rock slightly. He looked through the
window. Jimmy Squires had come aboard. Midge had sat up and was
making room for him on the deck.
Sam re-emerged with the cards in his hand. Midge shot him a glare that
said to leave her to get on with her seduction, so he climbed up to the
bridge and pretended to busy himself with charts and the pilot book. Over
on the Estelle Nige had surfaced. He was facing away from them, his eyes
on the shore. Sam followed his gaze and saw the women returning. Squires
had spotted them too and was hunching forward in anticipation.
Jan's "friend" turned out to be male. An oriental, dressed in a white polo
shirt and dark trousers. He strode purposefully towards them, scowling at
their foredeck as if there was something seriously amiss there which needed
dealing with immediately.
Sam sensed things were about to go horribly wrong. He saw the alarm
on Midge's face and watched her pull her knees to her chest in an
instinctive move to protect herself. He guessed she'd recognised the man.
By the time he'd clattered down to the deck, Squires was on his feet.
Midge too, clutching the towel to her chest.
"Scuse me a minute . . ." she whispered, trying to slip away.
Squires hooked an arm round her and pinned her to his side.
"Don't disappear, darlin'. This bloke spends a lot of time in Singapore.
You'll have things to talk about."
The man approaching them looked more Chinese than Thai. A hard,
square face with slicked back hair. He marched along the line of boats like a
military commander, a small leather attache case under his arm.
Midge began to panic. "Get off me!" she snapped, struggling to escape
Squires" grip. But the drug-runner had no plans to let her go.