Chapters (71)
- Title Page
- Copyright Notice
- Dedication
- Acknowledgments
- Family Tree
- Prologue
- Harry and Emma Clifton: 1970–1971
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- Chapter 3
- Chapter 4
- Chapter 5
- Chapter 6
- Chapter 7
- Giles Barrington: 1971
- Chapter 8
- Chapter 9
- Chapter 10
- Chapter 11
- Lady Virginia Fenwick: 1971
- Chapter 12
- Chapter 13
- Chapter 14
- Sebastian Clifton: 1971
- Chapter 15
- Chapter 16
- Chapter 17
- Chapter 18
- Chapter 19
- Chapter 20
- Chapter 21
- Lady Virginia Fenwick: 1972
- Chapter 22
- Chapter 23
- Chapter 24
- Maisie Clifton: 1972
- Chapter 25
- Emma Clifton: 1972–1975
- Chapter 26
- Chapter 27
- Chapter 28
- Sebastian Clifton: 1975
- Chapter 29
- Chapter 30
- Chapter 31
- Chapter 32
- Hakim Bishara: 1975
- Chapter 33
- Chapter 34
- Chapter 35
- Chapter 36
- Chapter 37
- Chapter 38
- Giles Barrington: 1976–1977
- Chapter 39
- Chapter 40
- Chapter 41
- Chapter 42
- Chapter 43
- Chapter 44
- Chapter 45
- Chapter 46
- Harry and Emma Clifton: 1978
- Chapter 47
- Chapter 48
- Chapter 49
- Chapter 50
- Epilogue: 1978
- About the Author
- Also by Jeffrey Archer
- Newsletter Sign-up
“Don’t get angry,” Seb whispered, although he knew Hakim couldn’t hear him.
“Are you able to estimate just how much your bank has lost because you are no longer its chairman?”
“Farthings shares have fallen by almost nine percent, knocking more than two million pounds off the value of the company. Several major clients have closed their accounts, along with a lot of smaller customers who followed in their wake. But far more important, Mr. Gray, our reputation, both in the City and with our customers, may never recover unless I clear my name.”
“Quite so. And following your meeting with the oil minister in Lagos, you returned to London. On which airline?”
“Nigeria Airways. The Nigerian government had organized my entire trip.”
“How much luggage did you take on board?”
“Just an overnight bag, which I placed in the compartment above my seat.”
“Was anyone seated next to you?”
“Yes, Mrs. Bergström. Although I didn’t know her name at the time.”
“Did the two of you speak?”
“No. When I took my seat she was reading. I was exhausted and just wanted to sleep.”
“And when you eventually woke, did you speak to her?”
“No, she was still reading, and I could see that she only had a few pages of her book to go, so I didn’t interrupt her.”
“Quite understandable. Did you take anything out of your bag during the flight?”
“No, I did not.”
“Were you aware of anyone tampering with it at any time?”
“No. But then I was asleep for several hours.”
“Did you check the contents of your bag before you left the plane?”
“No, I just grabbed it. I wanted to be among the first off the plane. I didn’t have any other luggage so there was nothing to hold me up.”
“And once you’d been cleared by passport control, you headed straight for the green channel.”
“I did, because I had nothing to declare.”
“But you were stopped by a customs officer and asked to open your bag.”
“That is correct.”
“Were you surprised to be stopped?”
“No, I assumed it was just a routine check.”
“And the customs officer has told the court that throughout that check, you remained calm and polite.”
“I had nothing to hide, Mr. Gray.”
“Quite. But when Mr. Collier opened your bag, he found a cellophane package containing thirteen grams of heroin, with a street value of twenty-two thousand pounds.”
“Yes, but I had no idea it was there. And of course I was completely unaware of its street value.”
“That was the first time you’d seen it.”
“It was the first time and only time in my life, Mr. Gray, that I’ve ever seen heroin.”
“So you can’t explain how the package came to be there?”
“No, I cannot. In fact, for a moment, I even wondered if I had picked up the wrong bag, until I saw my initials on its side.”