‘Cheers,’ Fairchild said, raising his glass to Silva. ‘Here’s to success.’

‘In what?’ Silva couldn’t believe the arrogance of the man. ‘I haven’t agreed to anything and it’s unlikely I will.’

‘Right. Here’s to you, then.’

She reluctantly picked up her glass and chinked it against Fairchild’s. He smiled and glanced round.

‘Well?’ Silva said.

‘You see that guy at the cafe next to us?’ Fairchild jerked his head to the right. ‘Gavin. He’s one of mine.’

Silva looked across to where a thickset man sipped from a lager glass, an open paperback in his other hand. The man turned for a second and met Silva’s gaze.

‘And the girl leaning against those railings talking on the phone?’ Fairchild made a small hand gesture towards an attractive woman in a short skirt. She looked like a secretary who’d just popped out of the office to call a friend, but she too rotated her head slightly in their direction. ‘Lona. She’s with me too.’

‘Fantastic.’ Silva said. ‘Are you trying to intimidate me?’

‘I very much doubt that would be possible, Ms da Silva. Anyway, scaring you isn’t the intention. Gavin and Lona are aides.’

‘You mean protection?’

‘If you want to put it like that, yes.’

‘What I want is for you to get to the point.’

‘OK.’ Fairchild took another sip from his glass and made a face. ‘This is one of those wines that actually gets worse with each mouthful. I really shouldn’t have accepted it.’

‘Mr Fairchild?’

‘You’re perhaps wondering why I’m involved in all this.’ Fairchild put his wine glass down. He contemplated the pale liquid, wistful. ‘Back in the Gulf War your father saved my life. He didn’t get a medal for it, but he has my eternal thanks nonetheless.’ Fairchild glanced up. ‘Life, Rebecca, is what you make of it. I like to think I’ve made something of my time on earth, but I wouldn’t have had the chance had your father not risked his own skin to save mine.’

‘He never said.’

‘True heroes tend to keep quiet and they don’t ask for anything in return for their deeds.’ Fairchild turned his hands palms up. ‘But when your father came to me with your mother’s files I knew I had to help.’

‘Help I can understand, but this plan of yours is madness.’

‘Killing Karen Hope is the only way to avenge the death of your mother.’

‘I don’t buy that. Why not just release all the material to the press?’

‘If it was so easy why hasn’t Neil Milligan published the information? He’s the only other person who’s seen your mother’s files. The story would be the biggest he’d ever covered. Fame and fortune. The scoop of the century.’