Doyle glanced up at it as he stood waiting for the kettle to boil. He made his coffee then sat down at the breakfast bar, pulling the newspaper towards him.
The clock on the far wall ticked loudly in the large room and the former counter terrorist checked his watch against the other timepiece. 2.03 a.m.
He’d walked slowly around the house, even venturing into the gardens after checking the banks of CCTV cameras set up at the rear of the building.
Nothing moving.
He slipped off his jacket and hung it on the back of the stool. The 9mm automatic was secure in his shoulder holster.
Mel would relieve him in two hours. Hendry had already done his shift and, besides, he had to be up early in the morning to drive Duncan into London. Mel had suggested that either she or Doyle should accompany them but they had yet to decide who.
Doyle sipped his coffee and scanned the paper. There was a small column on page five about two killings in Belfast. The police believed them to be sectarian. A suspect was being sought.
Just like old times.
‘Anything interesting in there?’
If the voice startled him the surprise didn’t register on his face. He looked up to see Helen Duncan enter the room.
She padded across the tiled floor wearing only a knee-length silk dressing-gown.
‘Sorry if I woke you up,’ Doyle said.
‘You didn’t. I can’t sleep. I think it’s a common symptom when your life’s in danger’ She attempted a smile but it never touched her eyes. ‘Would you object to some company?’
‘Help yourself. It’s your house.’
She made herself a cup of tea and perched on the stool next to him, her perfectly pedicured toes curled around one of the struts.
Doyle met her gaze. Her eyes were a piercing blue but at present the whites were somewhat bloodshot. However, even the dark rings beneath them and the fact that she wore no make-up did not detract from her exquisite features. She was indeed an immensely attractive young woman.
‘I think my husband is adjusting to this better than me,’ she said, almost apologetically.
‘It’s not an easy situation to be in, is it? But rich and powerful men tend to make enemies more easily than most.’
‘William’s made enemies before but never anything like this.’
‘I should think the advantages outweigh the disadvantages, don’t they?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Well, the money, the lifestyle. You wouldn’t change it, would you?’
‘I suppose not. We have a good life together’
‘I bet you do.’
‘I know what you’re thinking.You and everyone who meets me. “She’s half his age.” “She only married him for his money.” That kind of thing.’
That’s none of my business. I don’t get paid to think. I get paid for doing a job. And, at the moment, that job’s protecting you and your husband.’
There was a silence between them. She crossed her legs, the dressing-gown sliding up further to reveal a slim thigh.
Doyle looked and she was aware of his gaze but she didn’t move.
‘Are you married?’ she wanted to know.
He shook his head.
‘What about that woman you work with? Mel. Is there anything between you?’
Doyle regarded Helen silently for a moment then shook his head once more.
‘She’s a very attractive woman,’ Helen noted.
‘She’s good at her job too.’
‘My husband’s very good at his job. Sometimes I think he’s too good.’ She sipped her tea. ‘I hate it when he’s away from home.’
‘Is he away a lot?’
‘At least four months of the year if you add it up.’
‘And you obviously do.’
Helen smiled. A little more warmly this time.‘I have friends, of course, but it’s not the same when he’s not
here. This lifestyle is wonderful, Mr Doyle, but it would be even more wonderful if I could share it all year round with my husband.’
‘Swings and roundabouts. If he doesn’t work, you don’t have all this.’ He gestured around him. ‘You can’t have it both ways, Mrs Duncan.’
‘Call me Helen, please. I don’t know how long you’re going to be around. It doesn’t sound so formal. It makes you sound less like some kind of hired hand.’
‘Even though that’s what I am.’
‘You know what I mean.’
Doyle drained his drink and placed the mug on the worktop. ‘Do you get lonely when he’s not here?’ he wanted to know.
‘I miss him but, as I said, I have friends. All my needs are catered for.’ She smiled and looked into his eyes. ‘He knows what I do when he’s not here,’
Helen told him. ‘How I entertain myself. He accepts it.’
I’ve got to check the grounds again,’ Doyle told her, preparing to get to his feet.
‘Not interested in what I have to tell you, Mr Doyle?’
‘It’s none of my business.’
‘Would it bother you if you were in my husband’s position?’
‘I’m not’
‘Hypothetically?’
‘Would what bother me?’
That I sleep with other women when he’s away.’
Doyle regarded her silently.
‘It isn’t as if I’m cheating on him. He knows the truth. He even knows the women.’
‘Like I said, Mrs Duncan, it’s nothing to do with me.
Don’t feel you have to confess to me.’
She shot him an angry glance.
Doyle held her gaze. ‘It’s your life,’ he said finally.
‘Sometimes, when he’s here, he watches.’
Doyle said nothing.
‘Wouldn’t you like that, Mr Doyle? To watch me making love to another woman. A beautiful young woman? Wouldn’t you like to watch me make love to Mel?’
I’m not a very good spectator, Mrs Duncan.’
‘Would you like to join us? I expect you would. What man wouldn’t?’
He shook his head again and got to his feet. ‘Duty calls,’ he said.
She stretched one leg out in front of him, as if to prevent him leaving.
Doyle looked down at the shapely limb, waiting until she lowered it.
What kind of fucking game was this?
‘What do you expect me to say?’ he murmured.That I envy your husband. He’s got a ton of money and a beautiful wife who’ll put on a show for him with another woman any time he likes. Am I supposed to be jealous?’
