Deadlock

**

Marler was puzzled as he ate his steak. What role could Lara Seagrave possibly play in the coming operation? She could be Klein's girl friend, but he didn't think so. He continued to probe gently.

'You have a job? Or is that too personal?'

'Not at all. This steak is perfect. And I love this restaurant. So warm arid comforting.'

The tables were well-spaced, the banquettes at the right height and angle for eating, the coverings a mix of brown and beige. The lighting was indirect, but you could see what you were eating.

'I'm a publisher's scout,' she said, remembering a job a girl friend of hers had.

'What's that?'

'Oh, I represent different publishers – in Denmark, Germany, France and Sweden. My languages got me the job-plus the fact I'm an avid reader. I keep a sharp lookout for books I think might interest one of my employers. It means getting in first – before any of my many rivals.'

'So you travel a lot?' he suggested, watching her over the rim of his glass.

'Yes, I do. It's one of the great attractions of the job. I have just come up from France – Marseilles and Paris.'

'What are you doing, in Brussels?'

'Enjoying myself.' She smiled impishly, flirting openly. 'I fly home soon. I'm waiting for instructions. From London,' she added.

'What firms do you represent?'

She reeled off a list, again bringing back what her friend had told her about the job. Marler nodded, called for the sweet trolley. He didn't believe one damn word she'd told him. So what kind of an operation would call for her services? Klein had better not know they'd met. Fortunate he'd given her a false name. No, prudent. He'd done that after seeing Klein arguing with her. Tension? Was it very close?