A Dangerous Game (38 page)

theatre door and beckoned wildly to Paloma.

An animated conversation ensued, and then Paloma came over to Jacey.

"There's a car outside," she said.

"It's come for you."

Jacey felt a wave of anger wash over her.

"Tell it to damn well go away," she said.

"I haven't finished here, and even if I had, I just don't feel like

indulging Nicolas right now."

Paloma looked horrified.

"No one will say that," she stammered.

"It's one of Senor Schlemann's men."

"Then let him wait," Jacey said, 'and I'll tell him myself.
 
After I've

finished here."

She deliberately took her time completing the suture and cleaning up

afterwards, and when she finally went outside she fully expected to

find that the car had gone.
 
But it was still standing there, its dark

suited driver inside.

"Tell Senor Schlemann I'm not coming," she said.

"I'm still working."

The man stared at her for a full minute, and Jacey stared back.
 
Then

he turned, opened the car door and indicated that she should get in.

The fact that he had ignored her comment, and assumed that she would

obey him anyway, infuriated her.
 
She had not imagined her showdown

with Nicolas would come quite so soon, but she felt that this might be

a good time to precipitate it.
 
She was sure that Nicolas would break

off their relationship if she openly opposed him.
 
She could then claim

that he was unreasonable, play the woman scorned and get to work on

Leonardo.

"You appear to be deaf as well as stupid," she snapped at the driver.

"Not coming means just that.
 
I'm staying here.
 
And you're leaving.

Now."
 
She paused, and added for good measure, "Without me."

When Jacey arrived back at La Primavera she wondered if she would find

the car, and the security driver, waiting for her.
 
Then she smiled to

herself.
 
Nicolas would not stoop to following her around like a

lovesick suitor.
 
It simply wasn't his style.

She went to her apartment and ran herself a hot bath.
 
After liberally

sprinkling the water with scented oil, she spent half an hour lazing

contentedly in its perfumed warmth.
 
Feeling much more relaxed, and in

a much better temper, she pulled on a silky kimono and poured herself a

glass of wine.

As she dozed in her chair she heard the sound of a car pulling up

noisily outside, then doors banging, and some shouting.
 
It was only

when the sounds came nearer, accompanied by the pounding of booted

feet, that she began to take notice.
 
There was an impatient thumping

on her door.

Clutching her kimono round herself, she opened the door to find three

uniformed men.
 
Although they looked like soldiers, she knew they were

actually police.
 
Their faces were shadowed under the peaks of their

military-style caps, and they were armed with light machine-guns.

"You are Dr.
 
Muldaire?"
 
The tallest of them moved forward.
 
He had

three horizontal stripes on his sleeve.
 
The barrel of his gun was

pointing directly at her.

"I'm Dr.
 
Muldaire," she confirmed.
 
She noticed Dr.
 
Sanchez behind

the policemen.
 
He looked terrified.
 
She added in her most

authoritative voice, "I hope you have a very good reason for this

behaviour, sergeant?"

The sergeant smiled wolfishly.

"You are to come with me," he said.
 
His smile disappeared.

"You are under arrest."

"Arrest?"
 
Jacey repeated.
 
It took a few moments for the word to make

sense.

"What for?"

"No questions."
 
He jerked the gun barrel up at her.

"You may put on some clothes.
 
But hurry."

"They don't need a reason to arrest anyone."
 
Dr.
 
Sanchez held out his

hands to her pleadingly.

"Do as they say.
 
I'm sure it's all a mistake.

After all, you do have important friends."

A suspicion was forming in Jacey's mind.

"Yes/ she said grimly.

"I do, don't I?"

She went into her bedroom and pulled on a loose pair of drawstring

pants and a cropped sweat top.
 
When she came out, two of-the police

took up a position on either side of her.
 
She smiled encouragingly at

Dr.
 
Sanchez as she walked past him.

"Don't worry," she said.

"I'll be back quite soon."

Outside she was bundled into a windowless police van.
 
The policemen

did not speak to her.
 
It was an uncomfortable ride, and she was glad

when the van slewed to a halt.
 
When she stepped outside she saw not

the iron door to Nicolas's apartment but the pillared entrance to the

main Police Headquarters building.
 
Inside she was unceremoniously

bustled down a stone-floored corridor, harshly lit by unshaded lights,

until she found herself in front of a closed door.
 
The sergeant pushed

it open.

"Inside," he said.
 
He did not follow her.

Jacey stepped into a room that was dominated by a huge, old-fashioned

office desk.
 
Nicolas was seated behind the desk, wearing a dark suit

and a black polo-necked shirt.
 
She was reminded fleetingly of the

portrait she had seen of his father.
 
She walked towards him, but

ignored the chair in front of the desk.

"Well," she said with a brief, cool smile.

"That's one question answered.
 
Now I know what all this is about."

Nicolas returned her smile, equally briefly.

"I knew I'd get you here eventually, Dr.
 
Muldaire.
 
The other question

you should be asking yourself is, am I going to let you leave?"

Chapter Six.

' If this is your idea of a practical joke Jacey said coldly, 'it's a

very poor one."

Nicolas pushed his chair back and stretched his long legs under the

desk.

"I don't play practical jokes," he said.

"Did you think I was joking when I sent for you today?"

"You know I was with a patient," she said.

"You could have handed over to someone else."

"I was in the middle of an operation.
 
My patient could have died."

He shrugged.

"I'm not unreasonable, Jacey," he said.

"I wouldn't drag you from the operating theatre, even if you were only

sewing up some Indian."
 
He paused.

"But my driver waited.
 
You sent him away."

"I needed rest," she explained.

"Surely you understand that?
 
I'd had a long day at the hospital."
 
She

smiled.

"I wouldn't have been much fun."

His expression changed.
 
Ice touched his voice.

"That's for me to decide.
 
You come when I call for you.
 
As long as

we're together, those are the rules.
 
My rules.
 
And you obey them."

She opened her mouth to protest, and he lifted one hand to silence

her.

"Do you know why, Jacey?"
 
His voice was silky now.

"Shall I explain some facts to you?
 
Inside this building I can play

all the games I like.
 
Inside this building you don't have any rights

at all.

And you've already seen how easy it is for me to bring you here."

"So I'm your prisoner, am I?"
 
she said.

"Are you going to chain me up in a dungeon?"

"That's an interesting suggestion."
 
His eyes moved over her body

slowly.

"But maybe you'd enjoy that."
 
Suddenly he sat upright, and leant

forward.

"Here's another scenario.
 
I call Marco, and tell him to fuck you,

right now, on the floor.
 
You do remember Marco, don't you?

He certainly remembers you.
 
And not with any great affection,

either.

Maybe you wouldn't enjoy that quite so much."
 
He smiled cruelly.

"Don't think I wouldn't do it, Jacey.
 
If I wanted to, I could even

arrange for you to, shall we say, disappear."

"Why don't you just say you could have me killed?"
 
she challenged.

"I could have you killed," he agreed.

"Do you doubt me?"

"No," she said.

She knew that was the answer he wanted.
 
She also knew that it would be

easy to dispose of her body in the rain forest, where ants could reduce

her to a skeleton in less than a day.
 
Another thought struck her.
 
Who

would investigate her disappearance?
 
She had no close relatives. Major

Fairhaven would be suspicious but he wouldn't have proof. Questions

might be asked, and letters exchanged, but Guachtal was a long way from

England.
 
Was she important enough to warrant an international enquiry?