The Cavalier In The Yellow Doublet - Plot & Excerpts
OF MURDERERS AND BOOKS “She has nothing to do with any of this,” said Malatesta. He put his sword and dagger down on the floor, kicking them away from him as Alatriste ordered. He was looking at the woman who was still sitting, bound and gagged, on the chair. “It doesn’t matter,” said the captain, keeping the pistol pressed to Malatesta’s head. “She’s my trump card.” “Well played, I must say. Do you kill women, too?” “If necessary. As do you, I imagine.” Malatesta nodded thoughtfully. His pockmarked face remained impassive, although the scar above his right eye gave him a slight squint. Finally, he turned to look at the captain. In the dim light from the candle, Alatriste could see his black clothes, sinister air, and cruel, dark eyes. A smile appeared beneath Malatesta’s mustache. “This is your second visit here.” “And it will be my last.” Malatesta paused before replying: “You had a pistol in your hand on that occasion, too.” Alatriste remembered it well: the same bed, the same miserable room, the wounded man’s eyes like those of a dangerous snake.
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