Hunting for Silence

17. Offence is the Best Defence

'What now?'

It was about an hour after the receipt of the note. Mr Ambrose had sent it off to his Paris headquarters, to have its contents confirmed. A few minutes earlier, the answer had arrived: the note was genuine. The signature was indeed that of the royal secretary. So now Mr Ambrose and I sat around a small table in my attic room, while one floor down, oil was being mopped off the floor of Mr Ambrose's office, and a few floors farther down, Karim was mopping the floor with our own personal traitor.

'What now?' I repeated.

Mr Ambrose stroked one long, powerful finger along his chiselled jaw. For a long moment, there was nothing but silence. Then he said something that took me completely by surprise. Something that, for the first time since we'd discovered the swamp of plots and secrets we'd stumbled into, gave me hope for the future.

'What do you think?'

He was asking me.

He was trusting my opinion.

And I had no intention of letting him down. Taking a deep breath, I met his cool gaze—then plunged forward. 'I say we take the battle to Dalgliesh!'

One eyebrow lifted infinitesimally. 'Indeed?'

'Yes, indeed, Sir.' My eyes flashed. 'I'm sick and tired of always being on the defensive. That bastard is a killer and a tyrant, and he deserves to go down for what he's done—not to mention what he's planning to do! If we can save millions of lives, we have to try!' I flashed him a grin. 'And if we also could destroy your biggest business rival into the bargain...who can say no to an offer like that?'

Mr Ambrose reached across the table, something shining in his dark eyes that made me feel all warm inside.

'I always knew there is a reason why I love you.'

Taking hold of his hand, I held it fiercely for a moment, then lifted it to my lips and gently kissed his open palm. 'Likewise.'

'But the question remains, how do we proceed?'

I considered the question for a moment.

'Can we warn the king?'

Mr Ambrose gave me a look. 'Warn him that a Member of the British House of Lords is about to assassinate his foreign minister? If he's in the right mood, that alone would be cause for war. That would rather defeat the purpose, correct?'

Biting my lip, I nodded. He was right, dammit! But what else could we do? Our hands were tied. If we didn't warn them, the king and the foreign minister would be inside Lord Dalgliesh's building, surrounded by his men, blissfully ignorant of the lion's den they had entered.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, an idea struck me. It was like the spark that started a bushfire.

'Lord Dalgliesh doesn't know we're here...' I began slowly.

'Yes. We already established that, Mr Linton.'

'But,' I continued, 'the King does.'

Reaching for the unfolded message on the table, I tapped the words His Majesty extends his invitation for you to join us in his permanent box.

Mr Ambrose's eyes narrowed infinitesimally.

'What are you suggesting, Mr Linton?'

Slowly, a wicked grin spread across my face.

'This. Listen closely...'

I told him my idea. Just when I was finished, the door opened and Karim entered the room, his face grim.