Gold of Kings Read Online Free Page A

you’ll find in the vault were deeded to you two weeks ago. Do you understand what this means? They don’t appear in his will because legally, at the time of his death, they did not belong to him. Sign here and here, please.”
    Storm had difficulty making her fingers obey.
    â€œYour signature confirms that you have received the items Mr. Syrrell left in our care and that we have performed our duties as per his instructions. My card is stapled to the front of the folder. I would urge you to get in touch if you need anything. Anything at all.”
    Â 
    STORM AND THE GUARD ENTERED the safety deposit vault through a revolving steel-barred drum. The guard led her through an area as large as the bank’s main hall. Every surface was covered in tan carpet and possessed a crypt’s ability to suck away sound.
    â€œIf you want privacy, use one of the side alcoves. You fasten the curtain, stay as long as you like.” The guard pointed her to a rear wall lined with vaults the size of narrow broom closets. “Okay, this one is yours. You want to open it?”
    â€œI guess so.”
    â€œSlip your card in this slot.” Her evident confusion melted his gruff attitude a trifle. “Caught you by surprise, all this.”
    â€œAbsolutely.”
    â€œWell, all I can tell you is, vaults this size cost more than the rent on my apartment.” His key ring zipped back to the metal brace on his belt. “You need anything, just holler.”
    Storm waited until the guard departed before opening the door. Which proved to be a good thing. Because the cupboard’s contents proved the day’s undoing.

FOUR
    H ARRY BENNETT TOOK THE EXPRESS train from Heathrow Airport to Paddington Station. He stopped by a department store for a dark sweater and slate grey trousers: clothes that would blend with the rain-swept day and the workers in their purgatory uniforms. He took the Circle Line tube to the Barbican Station, then walked a street shaped like an asphalt gorge to his destination.
    At first glance, the Guildhall resembled a Gothic mockery of a Grecian temple. Harry stepped into an alcove across the street from the Guildhall’s front entrance and scoped the terrain.
    Right on time, Harry’s contact appeared at the top of the Guildhall steps. He looked exactly as the Barbados lawyer’s file described: a slender bearded man carrying a red umbrella.
    Harry left his alcove, passed through a curtain of rain, climbed the hall’s sweeping stairs, and asked, “You Philip?”
    The rain had turned the young man’s hair translucent. “I prefer to be addressed as Dr. Pinter.”
    Harry spotted a guard watching them from just inside the tall bronze doors. He drew Philip around a pillar. “You got something to show me?”
    â€œI don’t even know your name .”
    â€œThat’s right, Phil. Did Sean’s lawyer tell you my name? No, he didnot. But he said I’d be coming. And part of your deal with Sean was you’d show his contact whatever it is you’ve dug up.”
    â€œIt’s not that simple anymore. Mr. Syrrell assured me I would be placed in no danger by this association.” Dr. Philip Pinter was delicate in the manner of someone who had never picked up anything heavier than a parchment scroll. His patchy beard trembled as he sought to keep his voice steady. “I’m fairly certain I’m being watched.”
    â€œWhere, here at work?”
    â€œHere, on the bus home, at the shops. I’ve seen the same man in different spots. Or think I have. Perhaps I’ve been imagining things. Mr. Syrrell’s demise came as quite a shock.” He removed frameless spectacles and used a poorly knotted tie to dry the lenses. “I don’t see why you need to see the document yourself. I made careful notes. All this could have been taken care of at a much more agreeable location.”
    Harry had a serious problem with weak, and