RIC walked into the Radisson Hotel at twelve-fifteen. The entrance to the Osiris Restaurant was at one end of the lounge area in the foyer. He sat in an armchair which gave him a direct view of anyone arriving.
Taxis came and went on the street outside, unloading and picking up passengers. None of them was Lara. He tensed each time a chauffeured car pulled up, only to be disappointed when a stranger emerged from it. Time ticked on…past twelve-thirty, past twelve-thirty-five, past twelve-forty…
He wasn’t paged to come to a telephone. No message explaining why she was late. After four months, any normal courtesy would demand punctuality for this meeting, or at least a call informing him of a delay. Everyone had mobile telephones these days. There was no excuse for leaving him hanging.
Was it deliberate?
A message in itself—You’re not important to me?