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“Every day.”

* * *

“How’s your campaign to have Anatoly Babakov released progressing?” asked Priscilla.

“I fear progress may not be the right word,” said Harry, who was seated on the opposite side of the table from Giles. “Mind you, one can never be sure with the Soviets. One day you think they might be about to release him, but the next you’re convinced they’ve thrown away the key.”

“Could anything happen to change that?”

“A change of leadership in the Kremlin might help. Someone who wants the world to know what Stalin was really like. But there’s not much chance of that while Brezhnev is in power.”

“But he must know that we know that he knows.”

“He does, but he’s just not willing to admit it to the outside world.”

“Does Babakov have a family?”

“His wife escaped from Russia just before he was arrested. She now lives in Pittsburgh. I’ve been in touch, and I’m hoping to visit her when I’m next in the States.”

“I hope you succeed,” said Priscilla. “Please don’t think even for a moment that we onlookers have forgotten about your campaign. Far from it, we are inspired by your example.”

“Thank you,” said Harry. “You and Bob have been so supportive over the years.”

“Robert is a great admirer of your wife, as I’m sure you know. It just took me a little longer to appreciate why.”

“What’s Bob up to now the company is flourishing again?”

“He’s planning to build a new factory. It seems that most of his equipment belongs to the Stone Age.”

“That won’t come cheap.”

“No, but I don’t think he’s got a lot of choice now it looks we’re about to join the Common Market.”

“I saw him having dinner in Bristol with Seb and Ross Buchanan.”

“Yes, they’re plotting something, but I’ve only been able to piece together one or two clues. If I was Detective Sergeant Warwick…”

“Detective Inspector Warwick,” Harry said, smiling.

“Yes, of course, I remember, he was promoted in your last book. No doubt Inspector Warwick would have found out what they were up to some time ago.”

“I may be able to add one or two nuggets of my own,” whispered Harry.

“Then let’s swap notes.”

“It’s important to remember that Seb has never forgiven Adrian Sloane for appointing himself chairman on the day of Cedric Hardcastle’s funeral.”

“In Huddersfield,” said Priscilla.

“Yes, but why’s that relevant?”

“Because I know Robert has taken the ferry across the Humber several times in the last couple of months.”

“Could he be visiting another woman, who just happens to own fifty-one percent of Farthings?


“Possibly, because Arnold Hardcastle recently stayed with us overnight, and apart from meals, he and Robert never came out of the study.”

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