Goddess of Death by Roy Lewis Page A

way. I must get on with my own work.’
    He edged his way past Hope-Brierley, one hand on the official ’s shoulder, preventing the man from rising. ‘I’ll get out of the way. It’s been a pleasure to meet you again, Mr Landon. Albeit briefly. Maybe the next time I’m in the North-east we could meet, perhaps have dinner, and you can tell me all about the intriguing depths of the world of antiquities …’ At the doorway, he paused, looked back. ‘Antiquities … you’ll be working in the department where Miss Stannard previously held sway?’
    Arnold recalled the comments Kovlinski had made about the manner in which politicians were briefed. Stacey had clearly retained what he had been told during his visit to Leverstone Hall. Arnold nodded. ‘She was my former boss. She’s now chief executive.’
    ‘That’s right. Charming woman. Quite beautiful.’
    The door closed behind him. Arnold turned back to face Hope-Brierley. The civil servant seemed a little nettled, but quickly covered up his annoyance as he inspected the file in front of him once again. After a few moments’ silence, Arnold asked, ‘I’m curious. Why would the Minister for Industry be interested in the work of Miss Cacciatore’s committee?’
    ‘Interested?’ Hope-Brierley stared at him with a blank expression . ‘What makes you think Alan Stacey is so interested?’
    ‘You mentioned you had been discussing it with him a few days ago.’
    Hope-Brierley leaned back in the leather chair. He scratched at his nose, frowned. ‘Oh, there was nothing formal about it. You see, Alan Stacey and I go way back, as our American cousins would say. We were at Eton together, and we socialized at Cambridge occasionally, thereafter, though I never served in the armed forces as he did. He was in the Guards, you know. It was when Alan entered politics that our paths crossed again and we renewed our acquaintance; we meet from time to time, for lunch, and we have come across each other, inevitably at various committees. As I recall, that was how it came up. We were at the Savoy recently, were chatting over a glass of champagne, and heasked me about what was going on in my part of the administrative machine. Politicians rarely show much interest in the minutiae of government, but Alan is different … I suppose I mentioned in the conversation the little difficulty we were facing over Miss Cacciatore’s unusual demands …’ Hope-Brierley’s eyes were almost owlish as he regarded Arnold. ‘In fact, once he heard you were from Northumberland, he pressed me, in an unofficial capacity of course, to accept your nomination. He has a great affection for the county that employs you, Mr Landon. And of course he is developing
personal
links with the region.’
    There was a certain smug prurience in Hope-Brierley’s comment. Arnold guessed he was referring to the likelihood of the engagement between his friend the Minister for Industry and the daughter of Stanislaus Kovlinksi. Arnold wondered what he would say if he knew what the oil magnate thought about the prospect.
    ‘However, that’s by the by,’ Hope-Brierley concluded. ‘We should get back to the purpose of your visit here, Mr Landon.’ He extracted a sheet from the file and handed it over to Arnold. ‘If you’d be kind enough to cast your eye over these notes, and when you’re satisfied … I mean if you have any questions, please ask … perhaps you would be so good as to sign at the position indicated …’ He settled back in his chair. ‘Then I can carry out a further consultation with my colleagues, which I trust will be concluded to everyone’s satisfaction….

 
    3
    S AM B YRNE REGARD ED himself as a perfectionist at his profession . Things had to be done at the pace he dictated: he was the expert, for whose skills a great deal of money was laid out. Consequently, he disliked being hurried.
    He had been annoyed at the latest contact. There was now a new urgency in the contract: whereas he had