Doctor Who MA25 - The Shadow of Weng-Chiang by David A. McIntee

Doctor Who MA25 - The Shadow of Weng-Chiang by David A. McIntee

Author:David A. McIntee [McIntee, David A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2011-07-13T02:22:21+00:00


he Club Do-San was rather busier now that night had fallen

T . Woo felt a surge of pride at the sight of so many people chatting and laughing together in his establishment. He had never expected that the trade which had been picked for him by his former masters would be so satisfying, but there was something addictive about persuading people to happily forget their cares for a while.

He moved across the dance floor, trying not to cough on the tobacco smoke that filled the air. The smoke reminded him uncomfortably of the fate of his original club which had burned to the ground several years ago. He had almost died there, having set the charges with too short a fuse. As far as his ex-employers were concerned he had died there. He even had the death certificate to prove it, though the name on it wasn’t Woo. It hadn’t been a place like this, of course. This had taken real care to build up, unlike the old sleazepit.

He liked to tour the club once or twice a night, to see if anyone he knew was in. He didn’t recognize anyone tonight, though it was still early. Now he had a second opinion to seek

– whether Romana would recognize anyone here. He mixed himself a Manhattan behind the bar while waiting for her debut. He also smiled and made eyes at the barmaids – that was expected of him, and playing on expectations was what made his job possible. At least it was a pleasurable duty.

The band struck up a fanfare to announce the imminent emergence of the evening’s singer. Romana – who had been billed as Romy, direct from Broadway – emerged from an arch at the centre of the bandstand. Woo could see the uncertainty in her eyes, but had to admit that her affected haughtiness covered it well enough to hide it from the audience. She launched into ‘Wonderful World’, which she had told him was by Louis Armstrong, though he had never heard of it. Perhaps launched was the wrong word; she enunciated each word clearly and delicately, but it seemed to work with this song.

The patrons didn’t seem to be enraptured, but they weren’t throwing bottles at her either, so he supposed she was doing all right. He watched her for several long moments, not really listening to the song, and could feel his heart beating faster.

He wondered what her skin would feel like under his palms, her mouth on his...Stop that, he told himself. He forced himself to move his eyes across the tables. This was business, and in any case, Wei Pei would be upset. He smiled at the thought that it might be worth it.

As Professor Ying of Shanghai’s police laboratory was shaken awake, he reached instinctively for the gun on his bedside table. He stopped when he saw that it was Kwok, standing by the bed. ‘I wish you would use the doorbell like anyone else.’

Kwok, who never seemed sociable, ignored him.


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