Emma by Gaslight ch 5

Emma by Gaslight by Gale Force Part 5 of a multi-part story in which Emma Peel copes with the dangers of 1970s Europe, where eagles...and vultures... are gathering. NOTE TO READERS In re-reading my chapters after I've uploaded them, I've found errors that I've had to correct, and changed some things around to make more sense. For example I thought the Monte Carlo Grand Prix took place in April, it actually took place in June, 1973. In Emma's Chapter 4 I didn't specify that she had a rental car - she does (as will become apparent here in chapter 5.) [For those who don't know, there's a running joke in the Jason King TV series that he can never get a cab...I'll be working that into this story somehow... You'll also have hopefully noted a running joke that Jason keeps pausing inside or outside doorways to light cigarettes...that's what he always does in the TV series... If you don't want to go back and re-read from Chapter 1 to see the bits I've changed, that's fine. Most of the changes are very minor, and there aren't that many. However, just be aware that if you DO see an inconsistency, chances are I saw it too and have now fixed it. But don't be afraid to alert me on them in any review you'd care to write. (Cough, cough.) Thanks. Now...on with the show. The file on Roulette There are two types of roulette wheels. The European version has a single 0, in green, and whenever the ball travels around the wheel and falls into the green, any and all bets on the table - from straight up on the numbers to odd, even, red, black, 1st, 2nd or 3rd twelve, and so on, are swept away. In the United States, there are two greens on the wheel - 0 and 00. The way in which the numbers are distributed around the wheel varies according to how many 0s there are, but of course they always alternate between red and black.. The individual who sends the ball spinning on the wheel is called the croupier. He (or she) has two minions standing on either side the table with long paddles, in order to push the winnings onto the appropriate square for the winners - if any - to collect. A jeton straight up on a number pays 36 - 1. Split between two numbers pays 18-1. Split between four numbers pays 9-1. Other, safer bets pay less well. ...File ends Part Five: Emma: Chapter Two, by Jason King Jason King was not one to spend evenings in his hotel room, except on those occasions when he had a deadline to meet. On this particular evening, he'd decided to go to the Monte Carlo Casino, and to that end, donned a tuxedo, counted out a few thousand francs which is all he would allow himself to chance at the tables, and then went out to the portico where he had the doorman summon a taxi for him. He did not ask the driver anything about the late Pierre Jouvert - he would tend to that kind of questioning in broad daylight. In any event, the night drivers probably had little to do with the daytime drivers. Also, the driver had his radio on a station playing the new Pink Floyd album, Dark Side of the Moon, and Jason rather enjoyed the music. He walked into the Casino, and paused just inside the entrance door to light a cigarette. The foyer was crowded with people milling about, trying to decide into which room...or restaurant...they wanted to go. The vaulted ceiling rose high above them. He looked up at it and spared a few seconds to enjoy the gorgeous architecture. Jason stopped at the Change desk to convert his francs into jetons, and then walked into the Salle l'Europe, which contained all the card games such as blackjack, chemin de fer, baccarat and so. But mostly...blackjack. And once again he paused at the door, this time to let his eyes scan the crowd and see if there was anything interesting to be seen. It was rather difficult with the crush of tuxedo clad men and evening gowned women, in all shapes and sizes. Each table had six chairs in front of it, and at least that many people standing behind it, watching the action. Except there...in the corner...under a sign that said "No smoking." There was a lone player there. Jason took a deep drag on his cigarette. By the time he made it all the way to that "No smoking" corner, he'd have finished it. With any luck, the lone player there would leave, giving him the opportunity to be the lone player. He preferred that to having to play with a group - whose knowledge of the game might be suspect. The quickest way to that table was straight down the central lane...but there was also the most crush of people there. He'd sidle around the side... The lone player had not left the blackjack table by the time he'd arrived, but he elected to play there anyway. When he was down a thousand francs, he left the table, in need of a drink. As he walked toward the bar, his eye caught sight of Emma...Knight, looking gorgeous and sophisticated in mink stole and evening gown. He followed her as she left the Salle de l'Europe, and walked int the Salle Blanche which had the roulette and craps tables. Surely she would not be foolish enough to play one of those games? Mindful of the events of the day, Jason hung back and merely watched what transpired. He witnessed her win - impressed with her single economical bet - obviously made to a plan- and the fact that she was prepared to take her winnings and walk away from the table - a characteristic that was not common among gamblers. "Masterfully done," he told her. She turned and her eyes widened slightly as she saw him. He was five foot ten...she was of a height with him with her high heels...so she must be about five foot eight without her shoes. Her eyes were a deep brown. "Mr. King," she said with a smile, one a little larger than any she'd graced him with at the breakfast table that morning. "Oh, Jason, please." Jason said with all his charm. "And I hope I may call you Emma. You're looking very lovely this evening." "Thank you." He dropped his eyes and saw that her champagne glass was empty. "I see you've finished your champagne. Would you like another?" "Thank you." She accompanied him to the bar, and stood beside him while he purchased two glasses of champagne from the bartender. Although he was concentrating on the bartender, he noticed out of the corner of her eye that she seemed to be looking for someone...her eyes scanned the room and flicked on occasion to the entrance. He lifted the glasses off the counter and handed one of them to Emma. "Thank you for paying my bill this morning," she said, taking the glass and taking a sip. "I apologize for leaving you in the lurch, as it were." "Oh, don't give it another thought," Jason told her warmly. Then...as innocently as possible: "Did you find your friend?" "No," the woman said shortly. "No, I didn't." "He must have been a very good friend, for you to go to such lengths to try to catch up to him." She glanced at him, but he kept an innocent expression on his face and sipped his champagne. She lifted her shoulders in a shrug and smiled ruefully. "I know it was a bit foolish of me, but I've always been impulsive. It was someone I'd known in my university days. We were always doing outrageous things back then, and I'm afraid I just...regressed for a moment." "I see," said Jason, concealing his amusement. Did she really think he'd believe that story? "By the way, I left my tablet behind. Did you pick it up, by any chance?" "Yes. It's in my room at the Grand. Are you staying there?" "Ye-es," the woman said. She didn't sound very sure. "You don't sound very sure." She looked at him with melting brown eyes. "I wasn't very truthful with you this morning, Jason," she said in a demure tone. "You see..my real name is Emma Peel. Mrs. Emma Peel." Damn. "I'd been going through a bad patch with my husband...and came here to be alone. But...he's coming here tomorrow. I don't know if he'll want to stay there, or if he'll want to whisk me away on a second honeymoon. He can be as impulsive as me, sometimes." Could she possibly be telling the truth? Well...too soon to put her on the spot. Give her enough rope. "I see," he said. Jason reached into his pocket and drew out a gold cigarette case. He offered it to her, and she shook her head. He helped himself to one, lit it, and took a deep drag. Smoking always helped crystallize his thinking. "Well, I'm pleased for you, of course, but I must say I'm disappointed for me." She took a sip from her champagne. He liked the play of the light on her lipstick as she brought the glass to her lips. As he watched, he saw her eyes look past him. He saw them widen, only slightly, and then, to his utter surprise, she had slid around the booth so that she was sitting knee to thigh to him. "Emma?" he said, appreciatively. "Oh, sorry," she said, quickly. She scooched a few inches away from him. "I was getting a cold draft down my neck." "I'm surprised you could feel it, with that lovely stole around your shoulders." He put his arm around her shoulders, rearranging the stole. He saw her lips twitch. "Thank you," she said. "It's much better now." She placed her glass on the table and steepled her fingers, bumping her lower lip in an incredibly attractive fashion. She was thinking. It was so attractive to see a woman trying to think. "Well, she said briskly. "There you have it, Jason. My husband is coming tomorrow so I think it's best if I have an early night. I'll leave you, then. If you wouldn't mind, just drop my tablet off at the desk, and I'll pick it up tomorrow morning. Would you mind? That way I'll be able to pick it up and won't have to bother you any more." "Oh, it wouldn't be any other bother. Why don't I come with you now?" The merest shade of an expression of vexation crossed over her face, quickly replaced by an embarrassed smile. "No, no. I'm sorry, Jason, but I'd feel much more comfortable if I didn't see you again. I'm sure you understand what I mean." If he hadn't had his suspicions of her, he would have been prepared to believe that what she meant was that she was physically attracted to him and couldn't bear to be near him anymore, since she'd hoped to get back with her husband. That happened all the time, actually. She was doing her best to get rid of him. "May I call you a cab," he said as he walked with her towards the exit. "No, I brought my car. I have a rental." "Well, I'll walk you to your car, then." She smiled, so charmingly. "Thank you." They walked through the car park, her high heels clicking in the silence. The car park was well-lit, it was practically as bright as day. He stood by as she unlocked the door and slid into the car, and then closed the door behind her. He waited as she started the engine, and then returned her wave as she drove o ut of the exit to the car park and turn left. Instantly, Jason ran toward the exit, skidded to a stop, and peered to the left. As he had suspected, her car, a white Peugot, was not driving at such a clip that it's driver was looking to leave the premises. She was looking for a place to park so that she could keep an eye on the main entrance - which was also the main exit - to the casino. Jason lit up a cigarette and puffed thoughtfully as he watched her find a spot and parallel park with an economy of moves. So...she was up to something. Waiting for someone. And didn't want his help. Well, that was too bad - she was going to have it regardless. Time to end this foolishness and confront her with what he knew. Jason sauntered casually towards the Peugot, came up on the passenger's side, gripped the handle, and attempted to open it so he could slide into the seat and present her with a fait accompli. But she'd locked the door and he tugged at it ineffectually. Effect ruined. Typical.