‘I can’t say. But don’t worry. I’ll see you get what you want. Farrell. You’ve left your drink.’ He held the glass out to me. ‘Scotch is too valuable these days to be wasted.’ He watched me while I knocked it back. Like a doctor seeing that his patient takes his medicine, I thought. And then I saw that Zina Valle was looking at him with an odd expression in her eyes.
He took the glass and put it down for me on a side table. Then he accompanied us to the lift. ‘It was nice of you to come and see me, Farrell,’ he said. His hand held mine and I felt a tingle run up my spine. The touch of his smooth fingers made me want to jerk him towards me and break him, smash him into little pieces. The hand I held, I knew, had never mined coal. I dropped it as though it was something that was dangerous to touch. ‘I hope this won’t be the last time we meet.’ He smiled. The lift gates closed and we went down. My last sight of him was peering down at us as we descended, the light catching his eyes and making them appear black like sloes.
In the taxi, Zina Valle took my arm and leaned close. ‘You do not like Walter, eh?’
I didn’t answer and she added: ‘You hate him. Why?’
I didn’t know what to say. To change the subject I said jokingly, ‘You took my drink, you know.’
‘But of course. Why do you think I take the trouble to get up when I am very happy sitting in my chair?’
I stared at her. ‘Do you mean you did it purposely? Why?’
She laughed. ‘Because I do not think it is good for you. Tell me, why was Walter so strange to-night? And that name — Sansevino. It frightened him. When he hears that a friend of Dr. Sansevino is wanting to see him, he turns very white. And when you come in — for a moment I think he is afraid of you. Is he afraid of you?’
‘Afraid of me?’ The phrase echoed in my mind like a peal of bells. Afraid of me! Sansevino afraid of me! I felt a sudden surge of power, of exultance. I had him now. I knew his secret. I could play the same game with him that he’d played with me. There was a saltness in my mouth; the taste of revenge.
‘Well? Is he?’