The Diamond Rosary Murders Read Free Page A

you,’ Domino said. He waved the Walther in the direction of a chair placed strategically at the far side of the room. ‘Sit over there,’ he said, pushing him by the shoulder.
    Argyle staggered towards the chair. ‘Steady on. Who are you, anyway? What do you want? And where’s my wife?’
    ‘She’s not your wife. She wouldn’t marry a tub of lard like you,’ Domino said as he moved behind the chair.
    ‘She’d better be all right. I don’t like that smelly, foreign littleturd of yours hanging round her. Besides,
she
can’t tell you anything. She doesn’t
know
anything.’
    ‘Anything about
what
?’
    ‘Anything about anything. Tell me what you want and let me get out of this rat hole.’
    Argyle peered round to see what Domino was doing behind him.
    ‘Look to your front,’ Domino snapped, jabbing the barrel of the gun into Argyle’s right kidney.
    Domino produced a length of rope, draped it over Argyle’s front, pulled it round the back, threaded it through the chair spindles , pulled it tight and fastened it with a double knot.
    ‘Where is she, anyway?’ Argyle said. ‘She’d better be all right.’
    ‘Never mind
her
,’ Domino said, coming round to his front. He pulled two more short pieces of rope out of his pocket and fastened each of Argyle’s ankles round a chair leg.
    Argyle tried to move his legs but couldn’t. He sighed.
    Domino smiled.
    Argyle’s eyes narrowed. Events were moving too fast for him. He had had no time to think things out. He was used to meticulous planning, weighing the risks, considering possibilities and options: this was not one of them. He licked his bottom lip with the tip of his tongue. He was in a mess. He tried to alter the position of each leg and then his arms. He could manage very little movement. The muscles of his face tightened. ‘What’s all this about?’ he said.
    Domino stuffed the Walther in his pocket, pulled out another chair, placed it in front of him back to front, about a metre away and sat astride it.
    Argyle was angry, and he was also afraid. He looked up at Domino and said, ‘What
are
you doing? Who
are
you and what do you want?’
    There was a knock at the door. It comprised three quick taps,a pause and then a single tap. Domino got up, crossed the room, pulled out the Walther and unlocked the door.
    A woman almost fell in. Her arms were behind her back and her wrists also tied with brown sticky tape. She had a shock of blonde hair, and a figure with more curves in it than Silverstone. She was wearing a black lace dress and matching coat. Her eyes seemed to be half closed, and she had a permanent pout.
    She was pushed in roughly by a small man in a smart double-breasted suit.
    The man was Joseph Memoré. He was foreign-looking, had a face like a frog, and a smile like a snake. Memoré was perspiring a lot and had big, piercing blue eyes.
    Argyle’s face was red. He looked across at her. ‘Are you all right, Marcia?’
    She looked at Memoré as if he was something you wipe off your shoe after a walk in the park, then bawled out, ‘Yeah. Yeah. I’m all right.’
    ‘If that little foreign turd has as much as touched you.…’
    Memoré’s eyes shone like lasers and his face reflected perspiration . He began breathing heavily. He quickly dived into his pocket and took out a small, blue Beretta handgun. He ran across to Argyle, waved the pistol under his nose and said, ‘You annoy me, Argyle,’ in a strained, high-pitched voice. ‘Just keep quiet, othervise I may have to do somesing about it.’
    Argyle looked him in the eye. He said nothing. It was not a good idea to argue with a man with a gun pointing at you.
    ‘Anybody got a cigarette?’ Marcia Moore said in a voice that sounded as if she was about to drop off to sleep.
    Domino glared at Memoré and said, ‘All right, Joseph. Don’t get so excited.’
    ‘I could
keel
him,’ Memoré said.
    ‘All right. All right. Keep calm. What about
her
?’ Domino said.
    ‘She says she knows