Quinnell Chapter 69 Creasy needed to talk. It was something very rare in his life; he had nearly always been able to commune with himself. He considered unburdening his thoughts a kind of weakness. He sat at a place which was one of his most favourite spots, the terrace of the Pensione Splendide, late at night. A half-full bottle of Johnnie Walker Black Label in front of him and, beyond him, the lights of the bay; and beyond the lights the darkness of the sea. He felt a strong sense of deja vu. It was as though he had been there six years before with the same bottle, the same lights, and the same darkness. After that night he had gone away and killed many people. He felt he was poised in time at that same moment. Of course, Guido was the one he should have talked to. Guido from the long past. Guido his closest friend. Guido, the mirror to his own mind. But Guido was fast asleep in bed, probably smiling at all the lire he had won at that night's poker game. He heard the door open behind him and a figure came out some metres away and walked to the edge of the terrace and looked out at the view.
