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Back The Dead Line Save as PDF
Chapters (87)
  1. Cover
  2. By the Same Author
  3. Dedication Page
  4. 1
  5. 2
  6. 3
  7. 4
  8. 5
  9. 6
  10. 7
  11. 8
  12. 9
  13. 10
  14. 11
  15. 12
  16. 13
  17. 14
  18. 15
  19. 16
  20. 17
  21. 18
  22. 19
  23. 20
  24. 21
  25. 22
  26. 23
  27. 24
  28. 25
  29. 26
  30. 27
  31. 28
  32. 29
  33. 30
  34. 31
  35. 32
  36. 33
  37. 34
  38. 35
  39. 36
  40. 37
  41. 38
  42. 39
  43. 40
  44. 41
  45. 42
  46. 43
  47. 44
  48. 45
  49. 46
  50. 47
  51. 48
  52. 49
  53. 50
  54. 51
  55. 52
  56. 53
  57. 54
  58. 55
  59. 56
  60. 57
  61. 58
  62. 59
  63. 60
  64. 61
  65. 62
  66. 63
  67. 64
  68. 65
  69. 66
  70. 67
  71. 68
  72. 69
  73. 70
  74. 71
  75. 72
  76. 73
  77. 74
  78. 75
  79. 76
  80. 77
  81. 78
  82. 79
  83. 80
  84. 81
  85. Acknowledgements
  86. Also Available by Holly Watt
  87. The Hunt and the Kill

‘She’ll know,’ said Casey. ‘She’d have to. It’s just a case of how deep it all goes. If the Tartarus deal is a one-off thing, or if there’s more.’

‘She’s tipped as the next party leader, you know,’ said Miranda. ‘And she’s got a good chance.’

‘Yes. Archie said that one of the big political consultancies was sounding things out for her,’ agreed Casey. ‘And doing some expensive polling.’

‘She’s got a lot to lose,’ Hessa said thoughtfully.

‘How can we do it?’ Miranda was stirring her own coffee.

‘We could email Alicia,’ suggested Hessa. ‘From an account that looks like a Tartarus account, asking her to come to a meeting this afternoon. And then follow Alicia from the House of Commons, and see where she goes.’

Casey chewed her nails. ‘Not a bad idea,’ she said. ‘Although there are lots of exits from Parliament, so unless we waited in the corridor outside her office, it would be hard to follow her. And she might have something she really can’t miss this afternoon, and just call Tartarus to change the meeting time.’

‘Or,’ Miranda added, ‘if Zeus turns out to be based in the Bahamas, Alicia’s going to be a bit surprised to be called in for a meeting this afternoon.’

Casey stabbed her notepad with her pen.

‘How about the grandees on the board of Tartarus?’ Miranda had read the notes. ‘They might not be being paid enough to go down with the ship.’

‘Lord Cornthwaite has Alzheimer’s,’ said Casey. ‘I tried him this morning, but he doesn’t seem to know anything about Tartarus at all. And as for Lord Matthews . . .’

They all thought about it briefly. The year before, Lord Matthews had been caught out by one of the more ruthless tabloids with an eighteen-year-old dominatrix who certainly wasn’t Lady Matthews. Previously chatty, he had refused to talk to a single journalist ever since.

‘Well,’ said Miranda, ‘the simplest way is usually the best.’

‘I know,’ said Casey. ‘I know. But we’ll only get . . .’

‘Better than nothing.’

Casey pulled her phone towards her. She dialled the number for Alicia Dalgleish’s parliamentary office, and when the secretary answered, Casey spoke in bored, upmarket tones.

‘Ringing from Tartarus Energy. I’ve got a call for Ms Dalgleish. Urgent please.’

She was put through without a murmur.

The telephone purred for a second, and then the line was picked up.

‘Clio.’ It was Alicia Dalgleish’s voice, clipped but friendly. ‘How are you?’

And Casey cut the call.

65

65

‘Clio Greystone.’ Casey threw the phone back on her desk.

The same blonde hair Casey saw everywhere . . .

I’ve just remembered, I’ve got to run off . . .

‘All along.’ Miranda threw her notepad across the room.

‘Damn it.’ Casey thumped her hands down on the desk. ‘The muse of history. How could we . . .’

Casey had grabbed her phone, was punching in a number. ‘Tillie?’