Chapters (71)
- Title Page
- Dedication
- Acknowledgments
- Prologue
- Prologue 2
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- Chapter 3
- Chapter 4
- Chapter 5
- Chapter 6
- Chapter 7
- Chapter 8
- Chapter 9
- Chapter 10
- Chapter 11
- Chapter 12
- Chapter 13
- Chapter 14
- Chapter 15
- Chapter 16
- Chapter 17
- Chapter 18
- Chapter 19
- Chapter 20
- Chapter 21
- Chapter 22
- Chapter 23
- Chapter 24
- Chapter 25
- Chapter 26
- Chapter 27
- Chapter 28
- Chapter 29
- Chapter 30
- Chapter 31
- Chapter 32
- Chapter 33
- Chapter 34
- Chapter 35
- Chapter 36
- Chapter 37
- Chapter 38
- Chapter 39
- Chapter 40
- Chapter 41
- Chapter 42
- Chapter 43
- Chapter 44
- Chapter 45
- Chapter 46
- Chapter 47
- Chapter 48
- Chapter 49
- Chapter 50
- Chapter 51
- Chapter 52
- Chapter 53
- Chapter 54
- Chapter 55
- Chapter 56
- Chapter 57
- Chapter 58
- Chapter 59
- Chapter 60
- Chapter 61
- Chapter 62
- Chapter 63
- Author’s Note
- Also available by Frances Brody
- Author Biography
“If you are looking to find a gentleman and you have a picture—not that this happens very often, I’m sure. This is such a law-abiding country. Not a single person in this golf club feels the need to carry a gun.”
“No I don’t suppose they do.”
“Well then, here is my tip. Show the picture to a lady. If the case is reversed and you are looking for a lady, show the picture to a gentleman.”
“I’ll remember that.”
“You see my husband, he thought I might be right but he could not be sure. We were with our friends, the Diegels. Mrs. Diegel is of the same mind as I. She is back at the hotel now, but she would say just as I do that this is the man we met in Paris. He gave my husband his card.”
A cocktail glass was placed before Mrs. Espinosa. Sykes’s beer was carefully set on a small beermat.
“Cheers!” Mrs. Espinosa raised her glass.
“Cheers!” Sykes said, “And do you have the gentleman’s card?”
“I do, and I shall be sorry to part with it but I will remember his name. When you find him, please give him our warm regards. He has done nothing wrong, I hope.”
“We have no reason to believe that, Mrs. Espinosa.” He looked at the business card, expensive, embossed and, most importantly, with a name: Harry Aspinall. Under the name was an address of a chateau in Bordeaux.
“He said if we ever came to France, we must look him up. He would show us over his vineyard. I don’t suppose we shall ever see his vineyard. Of course he might arrive here, and then I could introduce you.”
“He expects to be at the tournament?”
“Yes, we’re looking out for him.”
Sykes took out his notebook. “It would be helpful if you could tell me everything you remember, Mrs. Espinosa.”
Mrs. Espinosa began.
“He is originally from England, as I expect you know, but has been living in France for a long time. He had to come back here. Truth to tell, he was a little agitated about it but he gave no details. He said that it would not be such a hardship because he would come and see the Ryder Cup and we would be sure to bump into each other. If the Brits won, the champagne would be on him, and vice versa.”
“Did he say why he was coming back to England?”
“He did not. We talked golf, not business. But there was a gentleman from Panama and I know that Harry Aspinall and he got to talking. The Panamanian gentleman had something to do with a mining company and the two of them seemed to have a lot of knowledge in common.”