Chapter 18
Chapter 18
The phone was ringing. It was light outside. Typical, thought Scanlon, my mouth feels like a bear shat in it and the reception desk has misdirected a call. No one knew he was staying at the hotel, after all.
He lifted the receiver. "Yes?"
"Monsieur Baudin, there is a Mr Goodchild at reception. He says you"re expecting him."
"Bollocks."
"Mr Baudin?"
"Sorry. Thank you. You"d better send him up: I"m running late."
Scanlon dived out of bed, threw on some clothes, and was busily tidying the room when the knock on the door came. He checked through the spy hole in the door. It was him all right, the spook who dressed like an absent-minded professor.
"I"m on holiday. What do you want?" asked Scanlon as he opened the door.
"May I come in, Joe?" Perry Fairbrass repli
