13
Major Falzoni checked his watch with the hunting-lodge style tavern’s ebony baroque carved pendulum wall clock, the grimly hewn cuttings reflecting the dark mood of the surrounding old oaken walls and pillars. Whilst maybe lying about its true age, the sombre atmosphere of the place was enough to make you take it for real.
Sheldon was damn late. Damn! And he was the one who’d told him to be here at noon sharp. The fact that he was fussing over the time made Falzoni admit to his edginess. Maybe it was nearer the time for his scheduled medical check-up than he’d realised. He made a mental note to have his secretary, Rosalyn, make an appointment for him with the department’s counsellor. Soft name for ‘shrink’. Probably he needed some iron tonic pills to combat the effect of mountains of
