Clare’s family was landed gentry, which made him a perfect source, and he was already rich, but he wanted more money. He also wanted power, which had drawn him into politics. When he’d become an MP he’d discovered that notoriety came with its own kind of influence. The more famous he became for stoking anti-socialist fires the more people wanted to know him, and the more he could demand from Budapest for the gossip he heard from his new friends.

‘He was so scared of going to jail I thought he would have done anything we asked him to,’ Williams said.

‘And I thought he was going to kiss us when we told him what was going to happen,’ Knox replied. ‘No more pieces in the press, no more grand speeches in parliament, just a few months of actually doing his job and dealing with his constituents’ petty concerns about potholes and missing cows before fading away into obscurity.’

Knox waited for Williams to make another quip, but instead he saw his face cloud again.

‘Another charlatan,’ Williams said quietly.

They drove on. Ten miles outside of Folkestone Knox slowed at a junction, checked his rear-view mirror, turned right, and headed south.

‘This isn’t the way to Deal,’ Williams said.

‘You’ve been before?’ Knox asked.

‘No, but I can read road signs. What’s happening?’

‘We’re being followed,’ Knox said, as casually as possible. ‘Have been since London. They’re quite good, but not good enough.’

Williams slouched in his seat and fought the urge to turn and look behind them.

‘What type of car?’ he asked.

‘A Ford Consul. Which means it’s one of ours, or someone who wants to look like one of ours.’

‘So what’s the plan?’

‘We’re going to find out what they want.’

Chapter 35

Chapter 35

Stubbornness had driven Laing to follow Knox all the way to Kent. He should have turned round as soon as he’d realised Knox was heading out of London, and gone straight back to Leconfield House. But, instead of relishing the fact that Knox wouldn’t be spending the next twenty-four hours stepping on his toes, he’d trailed his superior for almost two hours into the English countryside, keeping his distance but never letting the Jaguar out of his sight, even as the roads got quieter and quieter.

Laing watched Knox turn south just outside Ashford, and a few moments later he did the same. He’d been lucky that Knox had kept a fairly leisurely pace all the way from London—there was no way his pool Consul would have kept up with the Jaguar if Knox had really opened up his engine.