Dark Fever

She felt his eyes wandering over her and her alarmed glance shot to him and away again. She tried to think of something to say but her mind had frozen; her body was entirely in control of her.

Any minute he was going to touch her. She knew it. She wanted it, which was worse. But she was terrified.

When someone knocked on the door she almost jumped out of her skin. Her orange juice shot over the rim of her glass and fell on her skirt. She frantically rubbed at it, trembling.

‘My God, your nerves are shot to hell, aren’t they?’ Gil Marquez said, staring, then he called out something in Spanish and the door opened.

Two Spanish policemen stood there. Gil got up and put down his glass, went over to shake hands with them, speaking to them in deep, grave Spanish. Bianca struggled to pull herself together, grateful for the fact that he stood between her and the policemen.

By the time she had to face them she was more or less in control of herself again and was able to answer their questions calmly enough.

They did not stay long. Clearly, her replies were disappointing to them; they had hoped she could give them a good description of the faces of the two men, but she had never seen their faces, and could only guess at theirheight and weight, and describe the bike they had been riding.

After asking her to go down to the police station next morning to attend an identity parade, they left, and she immediately told Gil that she wanted to go back to her apartment.

He didn’t argue this time; he walked her to the lift and took her down to the ground floor. As they went out of the exit into the garden they walked past the blonde German woman Bianca had met in the bar that evening. Freddie didn’t notice Bianca, but she did do a double-take as she spotted Gil Marquez.