Read Online Three Great Novels by Henry Porter - Free Book Online Page A

talking about the identity switch and it was possible that the man who had watched the planes come in was responsible for this. But the important fact was that her line of inquiry had already been followed by Special Branch. They had made the connection between the man on the viewing terrace and the fire in Heston. In other words, someone was acting on the memo and the medley of CCTV clips she had sent.

    Late that afternoon, she called Dolph and arranged dinner in a room above a pub in Notting Hill. Dolph arrived late and for a time they talked about ‘the office’ in neutral terms and drank some cocktails of Dolph’s invention.

    ‘They’re holding their breath, Isis,’ he said, ‘waiting for something to happen - or not to happen. The whole bloody place’s on edge. You can feel it.’

    Herrick murmured that she thought something was already happening, but that they were being kept out of it. Dolph didn’t pick up on this.

    ‘They’re constipated,’ he said, ‘bent double with it. They need a fucking good dump.’

    Herrick grimaced. ‘You’re a barbarian.’

    ‘You can’t deny there’s something weird about it.’ He paused and looked across the room of mostly young diners. ‘Look at this lot,’ he said. ‘There’s not a person in this room who earns less than we do - and that’s including the waiters. What do we do it for?’

    ‘Vanity?’ she offered.

    Dolph turned back. ‘That’s why I like you, Isis. You get it all. Do you think this weird mood in the office has anything to do with the Chief going?’

    ‘Might have.’

    ‘Oh come off it. Talk, for Christ’s sake. I want to know what you think.’

    She smiled. ‘I am talking, but this isn’t the best place for it.’

    Dolph eyed the waitress and then let his gaze fall on Herrick. ‘Okay, tell me about you. What happened to the man in your life - the academic?’

    She shrugged. Daniel Brewer, outwardly a soft-hearted academic, had turned out to be an incipient drunk, a clever Cornish working-class boy prone to bouts of despair and unreason. ‘He found someone who listened better than I did. And he didn’t like our business - the vanishing act, the secrecy. He felt excluded.’

    ‘You told him what you did?’

    ‘No, but he guessed. That was part of the original attraction, I think.’

    ‘What about your father? Did he like him?’

    ‘Didn’t say.’

    Dolph ordered some wine. ‘Did you know I went to your father’s lectures? My intake was the last to get the Munroe Herrick treatment. He was very impressive. Believe me, I’d never have survived all that crap in the Balkans if it hadn’t been for him.’

    ‘Yes - he had stopped by the time I was taken on.’

    Dolph regarded her sympathetically with his handsome, dissolute face. As he was choosing the wine she had noticed his expression suddenly betray the very sharp intelligence which lay behind the façade of effortlessness. ‘I often think about you,’ he said. ‘I wonder what’s going on with you.’

    She shrugged. ‘Nothing Dolph, just bloody work. I’m considering taking the Cairo job.’

    ‘You should have some fun.’

    She revolved her eyes in an arc, knowing what was coming next. ‘Yes, I should,’ she said. ‘Which is why I’m going to take Cairo.’ She smiled a full stop.

    He laid his hand on hers. ‘Look, this is embarrassing. But I’m really fond of you, Isis. Really, I mean, I think you’re the one.’

    ‘And I’m fond of you too. But I am not going to sleep with you.’ She let his hand remain for a while then gently removed it.

    ‘Pity,’ he said morosely. ‘Are you sure?’

    She nodded.

    ‘You’ll miss the pillow talk that keeps the girls coming back.’

    She shrugged. ‘It’s hardly an inviting prospect, Dolph - the idea that I would be one in a bus queue of women listening to your ravings.’

    ‘God, you’re so fucking prim. Perhaps we should do it now - I mean the pillow talk.’

    ‘If you can do it