The lawyers around Nick seemed to shrink back and the men behind Duncan
Alexander waited, not yet following him into the antechamber, but all of
them watched and waited avidly; this meeting would be the gossip of the
City for weeks to come - It was a classic confrontation, and they wanted
to miss not a moment of it.
Duncan Alexander was a strikingly good-looking man, very tall, two
inches taller than Nick, but slim as a dancer, and he carried his body
with a dancer's control. His face also was narrow, with the long
lantern jaw of a young Lincoln, already chiselled by life around the
eyes and at the corners of the mouth.
His hair dense and a metallic blond; though he wore it fashionably long
over the ears, yet it was so carefully groomed that each gleaming wave
seemed to have been sculptured.
His skin was smooth and tanned darker than his hair, sun lamp or skiing
at Chantelle's lodge at Gstaad perhaps, and now when he smiled his teeth
were dazzlingly white, perfect large teeth in the wide friendly mouth -
but the eyes did not smile though they crinkled at the corners.
Duncan Alexander watched from behind the handsome face like a sniper in
ambush.
Nicholas/ he said, without moving forward or offering a hand.
Duncan/ said Nick quietly, not answering the smile, and Duncan Alexander
adjusted the hang of his lapel. His clothes were beautifully cut, and
the cloth was the finest, softest wool, but there were foppish little
touches: the hacking slits in the tails of the jacket, the
double-flapped pockets, and the waistcoat in plum-coloured velvet, Now
he touched the buttons with his fingertips, another little distracting
gesture, the only evidence of any discomfort.
Nicholas stared at him steadily, trying to measure him dispassionately,
and now for the first time he began to see how it might have happened.
There was a sense of excitement about the man, a wicked air of danger,
the fascination of the leopard - or some other powerful predator. Nick
could understand the almost irresistible attraction he had for women,
especially for a spoiled and bored lady, a matron of thirteen years who
believed there was still excitement and adventure in life that she was
missing.
Duncan had done his cobra dance, and Chantelle had watched like a
mesmerized bird of paradise - until she had toppled from the branch - or
that's how Nicholas liked to think it had happened. He was wiser now,
much wiser and more cynical.
Before we begin! Nick knew that anger was seething to his still
surface, must soon bubble through unless he could give it release, I
should like five minutes in private. Of course. Duncan inclined his
head, and there was a hurried scampering as his minions cleared the
doorway into the Chairman's suite. Come through. Duncan stood aside,
and Nick walked through. The offices had been completely redecorated,
and Nick blinked with surprise, white carpets and furniture in chrome
and perspex, stark abstract geometrical art in solid primary colours on
the walls; the ceiling had been lowered by an egg design in chrome steel
and free-swivelling studio spotlights gave selected light patterns on
