Cut to the Chase Read Online Free Page B
wanted one last customer before placing the shutters up for the night.
Wallace stayed within the main streets that were well lit, he wasnât sure of the prevalence of mugging in Jakarta streets but saw no point in not taking precautions. That was no reflection upon the Indonesian citizenry, when walking around at night he would have done the same in Sydney, London or Melbourne.
A cool breeze began to ruffle his shirt as time crept on and the sun disappeared over the horizon, yet the numbers of people in the streets was undiminished. This was another factor that had struck Clive Passay. He said that whatever the time of day or night the streets were still bustling with people.
He paused on the way back to the hotel and looked behind him. Perhaps it was thoughts of the fate of GrevilleWynn that had made him uneasy â and again he silently cursed Bramble.
The fee of $3,000 also caused some unease, it was more than he had ever been paid before and was far higher than the fee expected.
His eyes flickered over the pedestrians behind and around him, but there appeared to be nobody who could have been watching him. There were so many that it was difficult to pick out anyone who could have been designated as a possible shadower. But why should anyone be shadowing him? He had merely arrived as a tourist with a legitimate business appointment tomorrow afternoon.
âI have come to see Major Lincoln.â
âIs he expecting you, Mrâ¦erâ¦Wallace?â
âYes,â Wallace answered shortly. He had the feeling that the lady receptionist was treating him warily as though he was an Anti-Nuclear, Anti-War or Anti-anything else protester who was likely to start unfolding banners and writing slogans on the embassy walls with a spray can.
âI canât see any appointment listed here, what did youâ¦?â
Wallace appreciated that she had to protect her charges against unsolicited interruptions, but he was becoming irritable.
âIf there is any doubt â ask him!â he said coldly. âI have another appointment elsewhere this afternoon and I havenât much time. I have an appointment with Major Lincoln at 11 oâclock and it is three minutes to eleven now.â
He was aware of heads turning and flushed, he didnât want every damned domestic cleaner or casual visitor in the place pinpointing him as a visitor to the Military Attaché. There was always the fear that every Embassy cleaner could be a government spy. Was it the Greville-Wynn syndrome again? Or maybe he had read too many espionage novels.
She picked up a telephone and asked the question, while Wallace muttered to himself and wandered over to the window that overlooked the street. The embassy was in a building in a street that intersected one of the main thoroughfares, he found himself looking down a city street that possessed many tall edifices of glass and concrete, though there was the occasional old style building â it was reminiscent in some respects of Sydney and Melbourne.
He had seen the same thing in Singapore, though the older buildings were fast vanishing from there, especially with the site clearing that had been carried out for the new underground metro railway that was now proving such a boon for the Singapore commuter. The sites for the Singapore metro stations had removed many old buildings. Jakarta was also constructing a new monorail system, though construction tended to be in stops and starts, in addition to having adapted some of the local rail tracks around the city into a city system. Despite this the streets still proliferated with double decker buses, taxi cabs and motor traffic.
âItâs all right, you can go up, Mr Wallace,â she said, interrupting Wallaceâs reverie. âTop of the stairs there and then the fourth door on the right.â
âNot before timeâ¦!â he was about to say, and then cut it off short. It wasnât her fault he was angry with
Wallace stayed within the main streets that were well lit, he wasnât sure of the prevalence of mugging in Jakarta streets but saw no point in not taking precautions. That was no reflection upon the Indonesian citizenry, when walking around at night he would have done the same in Sydney, London or Melbourne.
A cool breeze began to ruffle his shirt as time crept on and the sun disappeared over the horizon, yet the numbers of people in the streets was undiminished. This was another factor that had struck Clive Passay. He said that whatever the time of day or night the streets were still bustling with people.
He paused on the way back to the hotel and looked behind him. Perhaps it was thoughts of the fate of GrevilleWynn that had made him uneasy â and again he silently cursed Bramble.
The fee of $3,000 also caused some unease, it was more than he had ever been paid before and was far higher than the fee expected.
His eyes flickered over the pedestrians behind and around him, but there appeared to be nobody who could have been watching him. There were so many that it was difficult to pick out anyone who could have been designated as a possible shadower. But why should anyone be shadowing him? He had merely arrived as a tourist with a legitimate business appointment tomorrow afternoon.
âI have come to see Major Lincoln.â
âIs he expecting you, Mrâ¦erâ¦Wallace?â
âYes,â Wallace answered shortly. He had the feeling that the lady receptionist was treating him warily as though he was an Anti-Nuclear, Anti-War or Anti-anything else protester who was likely to start unfolding banners and writing slogans on the embassy walls with a spray can.
âI canât see any appointment listed here, what did youâ¦?â
Wallace appreciated that she had to protect her charges against unsolicited interruptions, but he was becoming irritable.
âIf there is any doubt â ask him!â he said coldly. âI have another appointment elsewhere this afternoon and I havenât much time. I have an appointment with Major Lincoln at 11 oâclock and it is three minutes to eleven now.â
He was aware of heads turning and flushed, he didnât want every damned domestic cleaner or casual visitor in the place pinpointing him as a visitor to the Military Attaché. There was always the fear that every Embassy cleaner could be a government spy. Was it the Greville-Wynn syndrome again? Or maybe he had read too many espionage novels.
She picked up a telephone and asked the question, while Wallace muttered to himself and wandered over to the window that overlooked the street. The embassy was in a building in a street that intersected one of the main thoroughfares, he found himself looking down a city street that possessed many tall edifices of glass and concrete, though there was the occasional old style building â it was reminiscent in some respects of Sydney and Melbourne.
He had seen the same thing in Singapore, though the older buildings were fast vanishing from there, especially with the site clearing that had been carried out for the new underground metro railway that was now proving such a boon for the Singapore commuter. The sites for the Singapore metro stations had removed many old buildings. Jakarta was also constructing a new monorail system, though construction tended to be in stops and starts, in addition to having adapted some of the local rail tracks around the city into a city system. Despite this the streets still proliferated with double decker buses, taxi cabs and motor traffic.
âItâs all right, you can go up, Mr Wallace,â she said, interrupting Wallaceâs reverie. âTop of the stairs there and then the fourth door on the right.â
âNot before timeâ¦!â he was about to say, and then cut it off short. It wasnât her fault he was angry with
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