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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

Slater’s words almost clotted in his throat. ‘I had no choice . . .’ But he stopped short of making excuses. There was no reason that he should. Where once he might have felt pity for Gryffe, he despised him now, though even hatred could not salve his troubled conscience. Gryffe moved aside to let them in and closed the door behind them. It was dark in the hall, gloomy, the only light coming from a skylight high up above the stairwell. ‘She’ll wait in the hall,’ Slater said, and he prayed that this time she would accept it.

Gryffe nodded curtly. ‘Through here.’ He led the way into the back room. His suit was crumpled and Slater guessed that he had spent the night on a settee or in a chair. He glanced back at Tania as he closed the door. She seemed almost oblivious at being left on her own and was wandering into the cloakroom, attracted by the smell of coats and their softness to touch.

*

Kale had been awake throughout the night. He had heard Gryffe return shortly after two. First he had gone upstairs and then come back down, and Kale had heard him moving around, pacing between the study and the back room for nearly an hour. At length the house had fallen silent again, though Kale had not heard Gryffe go back upstairs. He guessed that the politician had probably fallen asleep in a chair or over his desk, and he had remained crouched painfully in the darkness, cold and uncomfortable, behind the filing cabinets.

The sound of the buzzer had woken him out of a light, restless slumber and he had heard Gryffe stirring in the back room and then going out to answer the door. There were voices in the hall, and now both men were coming into the study from the back room. Kale eased himself up, straightening his stiff, painful limbs. It was still dark in the cupboard, only the faintest line of grey daylight below the door. He shone his pencil torch on his watch. Nine thirty-five. Then he located the two revolvers, grasping Gryffe’s heavier Colt in his gloved right hand and slipping the lighter gun into his left-hand coat pocket. He picked his way carefully to the door, all his mental and physical energies concentrated on doing this thing right.