After he had passed one particular doorway he casually tucked the newspaper under his left arm, his pace even, still unhurried.
He walked on and some way behind him two men in a parked car looked briefly at each other, one of them giving a sharp nod. The driver started the engine and gently steered the vehicle away from the kerbside. It came to rest again after only a hundred yards or so further down the street.
The two men settled back to watch and wait.
16 A DIFFERENT KLINE
Dinner was obviously of little interest to Kline later that evening. To Halloran he seemed drained, listless, his sallow skin tight over his cheekbones, hollowed beneath them. His dark eyes had lost much of their lustre, and his usual banter was less sharp, as though his thoughts were elsewhere. His youthfulness had unaccountably vanished, or so it appeared to Halloran, the man before him looking at least ten years older than the one he had first been introduced to at Magma.
Maybe the incident earlier in the day had taken more out of Kline than Halloran had realised. He'd witnessed delayed reaction many times in the past, had even suffered it himself—the abrupt recognition of what might have been, the leadening of spirit, the swift evaporation of energy followed inevitably by a further apathy. True, his client was unpredictable, but Halloran was surprised at the abrupt change.
Only three had sat for dinner, Cora, Kline and himself, the two Jordanians serving, Monk off somewhere keeping watch or, more probably, reading his comic-books. Kline load barely touched his food, which was solid English fare and not the exotic dishes Halloran had half-expected the Arabs to prepare (Khayed and Daoud ran the kitchen as well as the rest of the estate for their employer, with Monk and the Polish bodyguard, Palusinski, sharing the task of maintenance, both inside and outside Neath itself, with apparently no outsiders at all allowed within the boundaries).
Opposite him at the long and rough oak table that could easily have seated two dozen, Cora tried dutifully to engage both Halloran and Kline in conversation. But more than once she averted her eyes when Halloran spoke directly to her. He found her demeanour perplexing, yet so were many other aspects of this operation.
'You still haven't explained why there's no alarm system inside the house,' he said to Kline, putting thoughts of Cora aside for the moment. 'It's hard enough to understand why there's no system around the grounds, let alone inside.' Kline sipped wine and his tone was dulled when he replied. 'I have locks, I have bodyguards. Why should I need anything more?' Again that different manner of speech, an older man's intonation, the words themselves more considered.
'I think adequate alarm protection will have to be a condition of contract.' Lethargy gave way to irritability. 'The contract has already been agreed and signed. You have to take my word for it that I'm quite safe here. Nothing can reach me within these walls, nothing at all.'
'That isn't very sensible.'
'Then consider me stupid. But remember who calls the tune.' Halloran shook his head. 'Shield does that when we offer our services. I want you to understand that this place is too vulnerable.' The other man's laugh was dry. 'I'll make a deal with you, Halloran. If you still feel this way about Neath when the weekend is through, we'll discuss your proposals some more. Perhaps you'll be able to persuade me then.' Halloran rested back in his chair, suspecting that Kline was too arrogant to be swayed by reason alone. He looked over at Cora for support, but again she gazed down at her plate to toy with her food.
'I think we'll need more men patrolling the perimeter,' he said finally.
'That's entirely up to you,' Kline replied. 'As long as none of them stray into the grounds. That might prove unpleasant for them.'
'You didn't tell me there were dogs roaming the estate.' Both Cora and Kline seemed surprised.
'I saw one of them earlier today,' Halloran continued. 'Just how many are there running around loose out there?'
'Enough to see off any intruders,' answered Kline, his smile distracted.
'I hope you're right. Let's talk about these people who tried to stop us today: you must have some idea who they were.'
'That's already been discussed. Jealous rivals of Magma, or hoodlums who want me for my ransom value.'
'You knew you were in danger, that's why Magma is paying for my company's services. It follows that you're aware of where that danger's coming from.' Kline wearily shook his head. 'If only that were true. I sense the threat, that's all. I sense many things, Halloran, but sensing is not the same as knowing.'
'You can be pretty specific when you're locating minerals.'
'A different matter entirely. Inert substances are nothing compared to the complexities of the mind.'
'Aren't thought patterns easy to pick up by someone like you'?'
'But difficult to decipher. Take your own thought-waves what am I to deduce from them?' Kline leaned forward, for the !first time that evening his interest aroused. A slight gleaming even came back to his eyes.
Halloran drained his wine. One of the Arabs immediately stepped forward and refilled his glass.
'I look at Cora,' Kline said without taking his eyes off Halloran, 'and I feel her emotions, I can sense her fear.' A small sound from the girl, perhaps a protest.
'Her fear?' questioned Halloran.
'Of me. And of you.'
'She has nothing to fear from me.'
'As you say.'
'Why should she be afraid of you?'
'Because I'm . . . her employer.'
'That's reason enough?'
'Ask her.'
'This is ridiculous, Felix,' Cora said, her manner cold.
Kline leaned back in his chair, both hands stretched before him on the table. 'You're quite right, of course. It's utterly ridiculous.' He smiled at her, and there was something insidious in that smile.
For an instant, Halloran caught sight of the man's cruelty, a subtle and fleeting manifestation; it flitted across his face like some shadowy creature from its lair, revealing itself to the light momentarily, almost gleefully, before scurrying from sight again.
The moment was swiftly gone, but Halloran remained tense. He saw that Cora's hand was trembling around the stem of her wine glass.
Kline waved a hand towards the two manservants who stood facing one another on opposite sides of the room. 'I can feel Asil and Youssef's devotion,' he said, the smile less sly, weariness returning to weaken his expression. 'I can sense Monk and Palusinski's loyalty. And of course I'm very aware of Sir Victor's avaricious need of me. But you, Halloran, from you there is nothing. No, a coldness that's worse than nothing. Yet perhaps that very quality—can it be called quality?—will protect my life when the moment comes. Your reaction today showed me your skill, and now I'm anxious to know your ruthlessness.' He drew a thin finger along his lower lip as he pondered the Shield operative.
Halloran returned his gaze. 'Let's hope it won't be necessary,' he said.
A void seemed to open up in those sombre eyes of Kline's. His breathing became shallow and Halloran realised the man was somehow afraid.
'Unfortunately it will be,' said Kline, his words no more than a murmur.
17 A DREAM OF ANOTHER TIME
Secure as Kline felt within his own grounds, Monk had the task of closing up the house completely each night when they stayed on the estate; Halloran, however, had little faith in the big man's diligence, and patrolled the house twice after dinner, on both occasions testing doors and windows. He arranged three-hour shifts with the bodyguard, taking the first until one in the morning himself.