AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“That’s probably because he’s now on his way to the Palace.”
“Someone has to tell him to turn around.”
“Agreed,” said Frasier. “But who?”
***
“For the record,” said Christopher as he guided his Bentley along South Carriage Drive, “this is a truly dreadful idea.”
“My specialty,” replied Gabriel from the back seat.
“Mine, too,” seconded Ingrid.
Christopher glanced at the morose-looking young detective sergeant hunched in the passenger seat. “And what about you, Timothy? Don’t you have an opinion?”
“I’m not here, remember?”
“Well done, my boy. You obviously have a bright future.”
“I had a bright future. Now I have no future at all.”
“Could be worse,” said Christopher. “Just ask Hugh Graves.”
According to Radio 4, the prime minister–designate was on his way to Buckingham Palace, unaware, it seemed, of the explosive story in the Telegraph regarding his wife’s involvement in the Federov scandal. The BBC’s presenters were running out of adjectives to describe the unprecedented nature of the unfolding political crisis. Gabriel, for his part, was enjoying the spectacle immensely.
“Make a left turn into Park Lane,” he said.
“I know the bloody way,” replied Christopher.
“I was afraid you might be trying to take advantage of my diminished mental capacity.”
“Your brain seems to be functioning just fine.” Christopher shot a glance into the rearview mirror. “But your face could definitely use a bit of retouching.”
“It will have to do for now.”
“How are you planning to explain that nasty bruise to your wife and children?”
“It’s a toss-up between you and the goat. I’m leaning toward you.”
Christopher turned into Stanhope Gate and headed eastward across Mayfair.
“Nicely done,” remarked Gabriel.
“Care for another injury?”
Ingrid laughed quietly.
“Don’t encourage him,” said Gabriel.
“I’m sorry. But the two of you are quite funny.”
“Trust me, we’ve had our ups and downs.”
Samantha Cooke had joined the BBC’s coverage by phone from the Telegraph’s newsroom. Under intense questioning from the presenters, she declined to say how she had obtained the recording of Lucinda Graves and Lord Michael Radcliff. She then expressed regret over having published her original story about the Federov contribution. She had been misled, she said, as part of the conspiracy to bring down Prime Minister Edwards.
Her chosen successor reached the gates of Buckingham Palace as Christopher skirted Berkeley Square. Two minutes later, after a dash down Savile Row, he braked to a halt outside a six-story contemporary office building in Old Burlington Street. A gray Range Rover Sentinel waited curbside, watched over by two officers from the Met’s Protection Command. The press were gathered on the opposite side of the street, their cameras trained on the building’s entrance.
“For the record,” said Christopher.
