The Ultimate Selection: Be Careful Who You Talk To Read Online Free PDF Page A

would have to lead more than just a double life. Karen could be a very useful tool, an ironclad alibi.
    As the train slowed, Greg glanced out of the window. He had reached his destination. He had not heard the driver announce that the train would be terminating. In a dreamlike state, he cut off from the real world, mentally adding to his already thickening plot. As he stood up, an elderly man spoke to him.
    â€˜Call her. She is obviously mad about you. You’d be a fool to let her slip through your hands!’ the elderly man told him.
    The man looked very well presented – perfectly groomed. His age was tricky to guess, but late sixties would have been a safe bet. His grey hair, though receding, had been slickly combed back. His carefully shaped moustache suited him. It looked like it belonged. The pinstriped suit he wore with a plain white shirt and colourful bow tie made him seem almost eccentric – the patent black leather shoes complemented his attire perfectly.
    Greg looked at him in utter amazement and responded, ‘Would you want her back?’ he paused. ‘She slept with my brother, and he gave her clap.’ Greg kept a straight face, and looked hard at the elderly man.
    â€˜I’m sorry, son!’ the elderly man replied feeling a little deflated by what Greg had told him.
    â€˜What you sorry for?’ Greg questioned.
    â€˜Sorry that she did that to you!’ he replied, trying to be tactful, though by this time the elderly man was feeling uncomfortable.
    â€˜No, she didn’t, I haven’t even got a brother. I’m just winding you up. Now piss off and mind your own business!’ Greg said laughing, ‘you nosy old fucker!’
    The elderly man glared, only briefly, at Greg before snapping, ‘You foolish boy!’ and storming off making large striding steps as he did. Greg’s laughter grew louder.
    Greg left the carriage, made his way up the escalator and continued until he reached the exit. On his way past, he gave the ticket collector his ticket and then continued to make his way outside. As he exited the station, he looked across the road and there it was – The Globe Tavern. Built in 1735 it was full of character and the ambience was that of a busy friendly place. From the outside the forecourt beer garden was large in capacity, having a big seating area, as well as plenty of standing room.
    He paused, though only for a moment, whilst he looked to his left and then to his right as if to confirm that he had arrived.

Chapter Four
    Baker Street was a busy place, full of tourists as well as people who either lived there or were just passing through. There were also those on a night out, like Greg, or at least that was what the unsuspecting public thought.
    Greg crossed the busy main road, Marylebone Road, not bothering to use the pelican crossing. As he walked through the already open main door, he found himself pausing without realising again, though only for a few seconds. This pause allowed him time to soak up the atmosphere, a calming atmosphere that had kept itself alive for centuries. The noise of simple chitter-chatter with added laughter made any visitor feel instantly welcome. Greg could smell the history of the place, especially now the smoking ban had come in to force. The place was buzzing – packed to the rafters.
    â€˜Perfect,’ he told himself, ‘no one will remember seeing me in here!’ He negotiated his way to the bar, squeezing and pushing his way through the crowd. Once there, he waited his turn to be served. He made a couple of unsuccessful attempts to jump the queue. A young-looking barmaid from behind the bar looked at Greg.
    â€˜Yes, what can I get you?’ she asked, showing her almost perfect teeth as she gave her best, professional smile.
    Greg lent forward on the bar, closing the gap between them and replied, ‘A pint of Fosters.’ There did not seem the need for politeness.
    â€˜Coming right