Chapter 2
Sweet Conga
THE music sounded far away. When somebody— a waiter or a chambermaid— opened the service door at the end of the hotel corridor it came closer. Then the beat and rhythm of the Spanish music floated in at the half-opened door.
Guelvada said: "I like that music. Spanish stuff— hey! Warm and full of colour. A Conga. What, I wonder, is the name of the piece? It makes me feel very soulful, a little artistic. I think I could make love to somebody to-night... or..."
"Cut somebody's throat...?" Kane finished the sentence.
Guelvada shrugged his shoulders. He went to the sideboard and began to mix two stiff drinks. He put a lump of ice in each glass, and a sprig of mint leaf. He brought the two glasses across the room, handed one to Kane, who was lounging in an over-stuffed
