Bloody Passage (v5) Read Free

shocked surprise, just long enough for the fact that I didn't give a damn to sink in, and then his fist came up.
    A rather pleasant French voice said, "Oh, there you are, cheri. I've been looking everywhere for you."
    A hand on my sleeve pulled me round. I was aware of the dark wide eyes above the cheekbones, the generous mouth. She smiled brightly and said to Langley, "I'm sorry, Justin. Can't let him out of my sight for a moment."
    "That's okay, honey," Langley told her, but he wasn't smiling and neither was his large friend as she pushed me away through the crowd.
    We fetched up in a quiet corner by the terrace. She reached for a glass from a tray carried by a passing waiter and put it into my hand.
    "What were you trying to do, commit suicide? That was Mike Gatano you were arguing with back there. He was once heavyweight boxing champion of Italy."
    "Christ, but they must have been having a bad year." I tried the drink she'd handed me. It burned all the way down. "What in the hell is this? Spanish whiskey? And who's the fruit, anyway?"
    "Justin Langley. He's a film actor."
    "Or something."
    She leaned against the wall, arms folded, a slight frown on her face, a pleasing enough picture in a black silk dress, dark stockings and gold high-heeled shoes.
    "You're just looking for it tonight, aren't you?"
    "Gatano?" I shrugged. "All he is is big. What are you trying to do anyway, save my immortal soul?"
    Her face went a little bleak, she started to turn away and I grabbed her arm. "All right, so I'm a pig. What's your name?"
    "Simone Delmas."
    "Oliver Grant." I reached for another glass as a waiter went past. "You want to know something, Simone Delmas? You're like a flower on the proverbial dung heap." I gestured around the room. "Don't tell me you're in the movies."
    "Sometimes I do a little design work, just for the money. When I do what I prefer, I paint water colors."
    "And who needs them in this world of today?"
    "Exactly. It's really very sad. And you--what do you do?"
    "Well, that's a matter of opinion. Write, I think. Yes, I suppose you could say I was a writer."
    Langley's voice was raised behind as he moved into another public performance. "Surely we're all agreed that Vietnam was the most obscene episode of the century?"
    I turned and found him in the center of an eager group of girls. They all nodded enthusiastically. He smiled, then noticed me watching. "Don't you agree, old stick?" he demanded and there was a challenge in his voice.
    I was a fool to respond, I suppose, but the last two drinks were like fire in my belly. I didn't like him and I didn't like his friends and I wasn't too bothered about letting the whole world know.
    "Well now," I said, "if you mean was it a dirty, stinking, rotten business, I agree, but then most wars are. On the other hand as a participant I tend to have rather personal views."
    There was genuine shock on his face. "You mean you actually served in Vietnam?" he said. "My God, how dare you. How dare you come to my party."
    I was aware of Gatano moving in behind me and Simone Delmas tugged at my sleeve. "Let's go!"
    "Oh, no," Langley told her sharply. "He doesn't get off that easily. I know he didn't come with you, sweetie." He moved closer. "Who brought you?"
    "Richard Burton," I said and kicked him under the right kneecap.
    He went down hard, but without making much of a fuss about it which surprised me, but I had other things on my mind. Gatano grabbed my shoulder and I gave him a reverse elbow strike that must have splintered three of his ribs.
    I wasn't too sure what happened after that. There was a great deal of noise and confusion and then I surfaced to find myself leaning against the wall in an alley at the side of the house. It was raining slightly and Simone was pulling my coat collar up about my neck.
    "So there you are." She smiled. "Do you do this kind of thing often?"
    "Only on Fridays," I said. "My religion forbids me to eat meat."
    "Have you got a car?"
    "A white Alfa. It