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Chapters (45)
  1. The Man With No Face
  2. Also by
  3. Title
  4. Copyright
  5. Dedication
  6. Epigraph
  7. Contents
  8. INTRODUCTION
  9. CHAPTER ONE
  10. CHAPTER TWO
  11. CHAPTER THREE
  12. CHAPTER FOUR
  13. CHAPTER FIVE
  14. CHAPTER SIX
  15. CHAPTER SEVEN
  16. CHAPTER EIGHT
  17. CHAPTER NINE
  18. CHAPTER TEN
  19. CHAPTER ELEVEN
  20. CHAPTER TWELVE
  21. CHAPTER THIRTEEN
  22. CHAPTER FOURTEEN
  23. CHAPTER FIFTEEN
  24. CHAPTER SIXTEEN
  25. CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
  26. CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
  27. CHAPTER NINETEEN
  28. CHAPTER TWENTY
  29. CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
  30. CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
  31. CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
  32. CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
  33. CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
  34. CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
  35. CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
  36. CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
  37. CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
  38. CHAPTER THIRTY
  39. CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
  40. CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
  41. CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
  42. CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
  43. CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
  44. CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
  45. CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

Bannerman dialled, du Maurier watching him with interest. ‘News desk,’ he heard him say. Then, ‘George. Neil Bannerman. Do me a favour. Dig out a copy of Who’s Who and look up Lord Armsdale. Armsdale is a place name. I want to check his family name, before he got the peerage.’ He glanced at du Maurier, but each man kept his own counsel. ‘Hello. Yes.’ He drew out his notebook and began writing. ‘Lamb. Thomas Walter Lamb. What’s his address? . . . Armsdale House, Lancashire . . . That’s near Southport, isn’t it? . . . Yes . . . No . . . I’ll be in touch.’ He hung up and sat back in his chair, adrenalin pumping. There was a wild look in his eyes. Everything, quite suddenly, had fallen into place. And it left him feeling strangely empty.

‘Well, Monsieur?’

Bannerman slumped in his chair, almost overcome by weari­ness. ‘Thomas Walter Lamb, or Lord Armsdale as he is now, is the retired chairman of Gryffe’s political party. In many ways he is, or was, the party. Its chairman for nearly thirty years. He, more than anyone, made it the electoral force it is today. Gryffe was his protégé, his golden boy. Being groomed by the old man for future leadership. The intellectual that Armsdale never was.’ He thought about the cuttings he had read in Slater’s office and wondered why it had not occurred to him before.

Du Maurier sighed and lit yet another cigarette, leaning back in his seat and gazing at Bannerman with big, watery eyes. He understood the implication. ‘Are you sure?’

‘Pretty much so.’

‘And how will you prove it?’

‘I don’t know. But I will. I’ll get the first flight to London tomorrow.’

The policeman seemed to be staring into space. Finally he broke the silence between them. ‘I feel sorry for you, Monsieur. You are bearing a burden that no one man should have to.’

Bannerman’s head dropped a little. He knew it.

‘When you write your story you will bring down your government, whether they were involved in it or not.’

Bannerman clenched his teeth. ‘Yes,’ he said.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

Sally watched how her fingers trembled as she toyed with her cup. She was waiting for the Brussels flight to be called. Some coffee had spilled into her saucer and it dripped across the table from the bottom of the cup as she lifted it to her mouth. The coffee was sweet and dark and strong, and its hotness filled her mouth. It took some of the edge off her tension. She shivered, though the airport cafeteria was hot and airless. All around her, voices prattled gaily in that melodic, aggressive way that Italians speak. Rome. Monday morning. Mild and sunny, only a little chill in the air outside.