The Gulf Conspiracy

Начало книги

The moon emerged from behind the clouds to light up the drive of Channing House as a dark Rover saloon swung in through the gates to crunch up the drive and come to a halt. The driver got out and hurried round to open the back door, adopting a concerned expression as the man in the back made an ungainly exit due to the bulk of his overcoat and the fact he was holding a heavy briefcase. He straightened up and told the driver to wait before making his way to the steps leading up to the front door, his gait a little unsteady after the forty-mile drive down from London.

The door was answered by a man-servant who apologised and requested proof of identity despite seemingly recognising the visitor and addressing him as, Sir James.

‘Yes, yes,’ mumbled the man, feeling in his inside pocket for some ID. ‘Let’s not carry this nonsense too far, shall we?’

‘Colonel Warner’s orders, sir,’ said the servant, closing the door and taking the man’s coat before leading the way upstairs where he opened a set of double doors and announced, ‘Sir James Gardiner.’

Читать дальше →