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“Twenty, twenty-five minutes”

“Then let’s go through the post”

After twenty-one years, Sally knehich invitations Ar would accept, which charities he didn’t want to support, which gatherings he illing to address and whose dinner parties he wanted to be seen at The rule was to say yes to anything that ht advance his career, and no to the rest When she closed her shorthand pad forty minutes later, she pointed out that Derek Kirby had now been waiting for over an hour

“All right, you can send hih”

When Kirby entered the roo made no atteer at the seat on the far side of the desk

Kirby appeared nervous; Arth of tie His visitor h the furrows on his forehead and his receding hairline made him look older His suit was sh his shirt was clean and well ironed, the collar and cuffs were beginning to fray Ar on freelance work since leaving the Express, and would behis expense account Whatever Kirby had to sell, he could probably offer him half and pay a quarter

“Good ,” Kirby said before he sat down

“I’, “but soent came up”

“I understand,” said Kirby

“So, what can I do for you?”

“No, it’s what I can do for you,” said Kirby, which sounded to Ar like a well-rehearsed line

Ar”

“I am privy to confidential inforet your hands on a national newspaper”

“It can’t be the Express,” said Ar as Beaverbrook is alive…”

“No, it’s bigger than that”