The Sugared Game - K.J. Charles Page 0,32

shoulders suggested he wanted to start throwing people out by main force. He gestured at the band-leader, who made a few gestures of his own and changed the tempo of the music to something more sedate. That would doubtless calm the new arrivals down a bit. Admirable management, but not in Will’s interests.

He glanced up to the balcony again. There was no sign of Kim in his waiter’s garb, so presumably he’d got into the office by whatever means. The trick now was to ensure Mrs. Skyrme and Fuller stayed out of it for long enough that he could do whatever needed doing.

Phoebe’s Bright Young People seemed to be achieving that in their insatiable demand for attention. Waiters darted round the dancefloor like sheepdogs, urging those of the party they could corral to a hastily assembled set of tables. Beaumont was one of them, bearing two trays of champagne and glasses. Phoebe hooked her arm through Mrs. Skyrme’s and drew her to the tables, talking unstoppably. The High-Low’s manager wore the slightly bewildered look of anyone blown away by Phoebe’s breezy conversation. She wasn’t likely to get out of there any time soon.

That left Fuller. Will gave it some thought, then leaned over to murmur his excuses to the girls. He left them at the table, and strolled over to the set of spiral stairs nearer to Mrs. Skyrme’s office. Fuller was still busy with the revellers so Will went up the stairs, feeling appallingly visible, and leaned on the balcony rail, a man with nothing better to do than watch the world go by.

He was at the corner of the room, overlooking the dance floor, the tables along the long side of the balcony to his right, and the office to his left. From here he could see the smoked glass window of the office door, and make out a shape moving within. The glass obscured most detail, but the pale blur of the jacket was all too visible.

So his job was to prevent anyone, but especially Fuller, heading for the office, in case they saw Kim. And he’d definitely need to cause a distraction when Kim emerged—God, he was taking his time—because he’d be entirely visible to half the room on this side when he did.

The band started playing dance tunes again. Desmond Fuller was still below. Mrs. Skyrme laughed at something a man in a filthy striped blazer had said. On the down side, Phoebe’s battalion of young idiots seemed to have stopped their game in order to drink champagne. They were still making an incredible amount of noise, but they’d lost their fellow customers’ attention. That was the trouble with these night-club people, Will decided, they were jaded. Still, nobody was coming up to the office. A bit longer and they might get away with this.

Will watched and waited. It was smoky up here, irritating his lungs. The band played on. A waiter cleared his throat, and Will turned with a pulse of hope, but it wasn’t Kim or even Beaumont, just a stranger in a garish jacket.

“Would you care for a drink, sir?”

“I’m all right for now.”

“Perhaps I can take you to a table?”

“I’ve been sitting all day. I’m fine here.”

“If you’re sure, sir.”

Downstairs, Mrs. Skyrme was disengaging herself from the Bright Young People. Will watched her for a few seconds, made sure that she was off on her rounds of the floor, chatting to customers, then cast about for Fuller.

He couldn’t see him.

Will scanned the floor frantically, looking for one sleek head among dozens. He couldn’t find the bastard, but Phoebe was standing by the far edge of the dance-floor, chatting to a man in a blazer. She looked up, caught Will’s eye, and moved her hand in a casual gesture, pointing.

Will tracked along the room, and found him. Fuller was on the spiral stair, heading up. Will crossed his fingers the man was on his way to the upper balcony, but he didn’t keep climbing the stair. He headed off towards the office door, and Will.

The band blared below. Will flexed his fingers.

Kim was still in the office, and if he came out now, Fuller would see him. Will stepped in front of him as he approached. “I say. Just the chap.”

“Ah, Mr. Darling. It’s good to see you back. I hope you’re having a good evening? Excuse me.”

He swung nimbly around Will. Will sidestepped to get back in his way. “Very decent, thanks. Can you get me a brandy?”

Fuller raised his hand,