Mark Ellis > Quotes

“Crete, May 1941. It was nearly five o’clock when the three soldiers reached the end of the olive grove. The dust-filled air shimmered in the late-afternoon heat. Their bodies ached, their uniforms were caked with dirt and sweat and they were hungry, thirsty and exhausted. The sensible thing now would be to lay up where they were for a few hours’ rest, then finish the journey under cover of darkness. But there was a tight deadline to meet. The evacuation vessel was scheduled to leave at midnight and they had been warned the captain wouldn’t wait for stragglers.”
― Mark Ellis, The French Spy

“Murder calls were never welcome, but this one had a small silver lining.it was going to get Merlin out of a sticky predicament.”
― Mark Ellis, Death of an Officer

“Bertram scratched his ear. ‘I was made aware of a bit of a ruckus.The bedrooms used in that house were on the second and third floors. I had just cleared two gentlemen from a room on the third floor at Donovan’s request, he then asked me to tidy up the room ahead of the next guests’ arrival. I was doing that when I heard some shouts from a bedroom below.”
― Mark Ellis, Death of an Officer

“It was Merlin’s first time in the Reform Club but he could see instantly it was cast in a similar mould to the various other London gentlemen’s clubs he had been obliged to visit before in the course of his duties. He had never been able to understand the attraction of these gloomy places, where upper-class, middle-aged and elderly men hid themselves away behind rustling newspapers or dozed in dark rooms full of heavy leather armchairs splattered with cigarette ash and drink stains.”
― Mark Ellis, The French Spy

“It’s all about the company you keep, isn’t it, Chief Inspector? Now Mr Trenton, who I know wouldn’t hurt a fly, has certain…preferences, if you know what I mean.’ He gave Merlin a meaningful look. ‘I don’t want to get anyone into trouble, of course.”
― Mark Ellis, Death of an Officer

“Ivan, the Russian sharpshooter, was sitting, gun in hand, behind one of Borg’s men on a motorbike further down South Eaton Place. The wooden barriers, the parked lorry and the elderly gentleman with the stick were all part of Isaac Walsh’s plan, aimed at hampering the policemen and giving Abbott a chance to escape.”
― Mark Ellis, Death of an Officer

“As Merlin sat at his desk, he caught a brief glimpse of himself in the mirror on the wall opposite…He was approaching his mid-forties, tall, with dark Latin features thanks to his Spanish father. Bright green eyes sat above an aquiline nose, and his full head of jet-black hair was now speckled with the odd bit of grey.”
― Mark Ellis, Death of an Officer

“Everyone was in position by 9 p.m. Merlin and Bridges had taken the Charing Cross conveniences, Johnson Leicester Square and Price Piccadilly Circus. It was agreed that Robinson would move back and forth between the three locations and act as a go-between.”
― Mark Ellis, Death of an Officer

“Few would have seen Solomon and realised they were looking at one of wartime London’s top gangsters. With his receding hairline, thick-lenses spectacles, sober tie and dark two-piece suit, he resembled a local bank manager, accountant or shop owner.”
― Mark Ellis, Death of an Officer

“Cairo. An inter-services game of cricket was in progress in the lush grounds behind him as Powell made his way through the grand portal of the Gezira Sporting Club. It was a hot and humid day and Powell was dripping with sweat. A fellow officer had given him a lift for part of the way but he had had to walk the last mile. Uniformed Egyptian attendants bowed and guided him through the lobby towards the bar, where he could see his host with a drink already in hand.”
― Mark Ellis, The French Spy

“So Admiral, the marshal tells me your trip to Paris was a success.” Jean Louis Xavier François Darlan, admiral of France and the senior minister in Marshal Philippe Pétain’s Vichy government, stroked his cheek. “Yes, all went well as planned, Pierre, although little has been finalised as yet.”
Pierre Laval, former prime minister of France and, until recently, vice-president of Vichy France’s Cabinet of Ministers, chuckled and patted his companion on the knee. “The marshal mentioned no qualifications. He told me you had got everything he wanted from the Germans.”
― Mark Ellis, The French Spy

“With the rum bottle empty, Marsh had moved on to the Guinness in the kitchen cupboard. After a bottle and a half, he’d decided that action was required.the most satisfying sort of action he could think of was ending the little boy’s life.”
― Mark Ellis, Death of an Officer

“Wigmore turned towards the window. A column of armoured vehicles was making its way down the Mall towards Buckingham Palace. As he watched, he cursed himself for not remaining at the hotel. He looked at Merlin. ‘Very well. Go ahead with your bloody questions.”
― Mark Ellis, Death of an Officer

“Goldberg was a tough, square-jawed New York detective who by various odd quirks of fate now held a position in the US  military administration in London. In 1942, the British government had ceded to the American military police all legal jurisdiction over American troops stationed in the UK.”
― Mark Ellis, Death of an Officer

“London. “Look Olivier. Quite a sight isn’t it?” Commandant Auguste Angers stood tall in his stirrups as he pointed out the far distant dome of St. Paul’s. The bronzed roof of the cathedral was glistening in the sun during a brief break in the clouds. The commandant and his colleague and deputy, Captain Olivier Rougemont, had enjoyed a morning’s exhilarating ride in Richmond Park. The commandant was riding his favourite grey, Chloe, and Rougemont was on his boss’s second string, a chestnut Annette.”
― Mark Ellis, The French Spy

“Merlin stood up. For once, late as it was, he was pleased to see the Assistant Commissioner because he had been trying unsuccessfully to get hold of him all day. “May I introduce Detective Bernard Goldberg of the New York Police Department.”
Merlin held out a hand to the stocky young man now standing on the AC’s right. Detective Goldberg was an inch or two shorter than Merlin, with a closely cropped head of dark-brown hair and the crumpled face of a man who might have walked into a wall.”
― Mark Ellis, The French Spy

“Robinson had thoroughly enjoyed her evening at the opera. Her only previous experience had been a performance of Wagner, to which the Assistant Commissioner, an avid Wagnerian, had taken her a year before. It was a strange but admirable British characteristic, she had thought at the time, how little antagonism was directed against the great artistic creations of the enemy, even of Richard Wagner, the great idol of Hitler.”
― Mark Ellis, The French Spy

“Trenton got up and made for the bathroom. On the way he paused to put a record on the gramophone. He loved music first thing in the morning and his good friend Fred Astaire was a particular favourite. As he stepped into the bath, he began to sing along. ‘Da da da da da da…I’m putting’ on my top hat, tying up my white tie, brushing’ off my tails.”
― Mark Ellis, Death of an Officer

“He didn’t give a damn for the defeatist Kennedy, or indeed for that stuffed-shirt Chamberlain, whom Hitler had comprehensively hoodwinked. Nothing should stand in the way of a murder investigation, however lowly the victim. No doubt Joan’s fate would seem unimportant in the greater scheme of things whenever the Luftwaffe got round to bombing London, but that was nothing to him. It was his job to seek out the truth behind her death, regardless.”
― Mark Ellis, Princes Gate

“Colonel Aubertin and his two colleagues sat on a park bench in the private garden of Dorset Square. Rougemont sat between his two superiors, pleased that for once the commandant appeared to have had an abstemious lunch. “Major Vane-Stewart was telling me the other day that this was once the site of the first important cricket ground in London, established by the same Thomas Lord who later built the famous ground that bears his name, a few miles to the north of us in St. John’s Wood. There is a plaque recording this fact in that shed over there. In the middle of the square.”
“Cricket.” Angers spat out the words with disgust. “A stupid game played by idiots. Only the English could invent such a boring name.”
― Mark Ellis, The French Spy

“Thinking about the weather was one way of shutting out of his mind the appalling bloody human mess sprawled out over the bed of this seedy hotel room in central London. The sight and smell was sickening - even to a hardened detective like him. Felling the bile rising in his throat again, he hurried out into the dimly lit corridor. “Where are you, Sergeant? Is the doctor here yet?”
― Mark Ellis, The French Spy

“One of them had something small and black in his hand that Johnson very much feared was  a gun. He was considering his options when he saw Goldberg’s head emerge above the latch door.”
― Mark Ellis, Death of an Officer

“New York. Anton Meyer’s wife had just gone to New Jersey to stay with her sister for a couple of days. For the first time in a while, his day hadn’t ended in an argument and he’d been able to enjoy a good night’s sleep. It was 10 in the morning and Meyer had already dealt efficiently with most of the files on his desk. He had taken a moment to congratulate himself on this when Maurice Kramer appeared at his door. “Daydreaming again, Meyer?” Kramer’s beady eyes glared meanly at him.”
― Mark Ellis, The French Spy