Kingstone was hardly listening. “Well, that’s the roots taken care of. Look, Joe, you’re going to have to listen to me and—yes—trust me when I say something that might sound a mite strange to you. I’ll take the seedhead.” He put up a hand to deflect any objections. “For the very good reason that—I am the seedhead.”

CHAPTER 23

“Sunday! Blissful Sunday! And Joe tells me you’ve decided to make an early start back to London on Monday morning, so you have a whole day to relax.” Lydia poured out a cup of coffee for Kingstone. “Have you made any plans for today? Going out ratting with Brutus?”

“I turned him down in favour of a quiet hour or two with Marcus. We thought we’d take a reach of the river and tickle up some trout.”

“Excellent preparation for the days of boredom to come. Listening to the rehearsed, line-toeing speeches one after the other, all saying the same thing, won’t be very entertaining.”

“Oh, it’s not a foregone conclusion, Lydia …”

“You’re not kidding!” Marcus harrumphed from behind a copy of Saturday’s Daily Mirror. “You’re going to get fireworks! There’ll be staged walkouts at the very least! The French are probably packing their bags as we speak. We should have taken a look at this yesterday! Cook hands me her copy to read the racing page when she’s finished with it but, never mind the back pages, look here! On the front! Oh, my God!”

Marcus waved the headlines in front of them and then read out:

Surprise Message from Washington This Morning:

UNITED STATES ISSUES DEBTS REMINDER.

The United States Government has issued a reminder to all governments of the war debt payments due on June 15th. President Roosevelt is having difficulties of his own in America and the British Government will not willingly aggravate them.

“It goes on to say that our ambassador in Washington has been instructed to make a proposal to the president: an offer of a token payment.”

Marcus hardly ever lost his easy good humour but Joe recognised the signs of rising anger. “The shame! The indignity! Three days to cough up. He gives us three days. The country’s bankrupt, for God’s sake! We’ve been paying this debt back for fifteen years, dutifully, with interest, amounting now to far more than the original sum. We’ve spent our last pennies bailing out Belgium, resupplying starving Germany on Churchill’s initiative. We’re down to our last tin of corned beef and what does this new chap decide to do at the outset of the most important meeting the world has ever held on economic problems? He holes Europe below the waterline! He demands payment with no chance of deferment for the privilege of having saved the civilised world from barbarity.”

“Marcus, my dear, our guest will think—”

Bit between his teeth he rumbled on, shaking the newspaper like a terrier. “To save Roosevelt’s face, we ‘propose a token payment.’ What’s that supposed to mean? How imprecise! And how typical! We don’t want to be seen to inconvenience our paymaster. As a Magistrate, I lecture debt defaulters from the bench after every big race and I send the ruthless leg-breakers who threaten them to jail. It’s the same thing on a bigger scale, that’s all. But the Germans—oh, they have no scruples! Did you know? They’ve just decided to welsh on their debts and print money—issue national bonds they say—to pay for the grand projects they have in mind. And we let them get away with it! American bankers encourage them. Cornelius, surely you see this!”

“May I?” Kingstone took the paper from him and read the article for himself. He replied to Marcus’s outburst with calm concern. “The timing, I agree, is unfortunate. But look here—the key to all this is in the line, The President is having difficulties of his own in America. Poverty and unemployment from east coast to west; disaffected soldiery kicking up, ready to march on the country’s capital; lines forming at soup kitchens and starving children on the front pages of every newspaper. As bad as anything here in England. And always the voices around him advising, demanding, deriding, giving him a hard time.

“I need to get back,” he finished firmly. “I mean—all the way back. To Washington.” He fixed Joe with a look of growing unease. “It’s started, Joe. And it’s started without me. I’ll have to climb back aboard and see if I can catch up. Put things right from the inside.”

Joe’s interest flared. “How will you do that? Are you implying that you’re in contact with these people?”

“The mechanics of communication are in place,” Kingston replied carefully.

“How likely are they to accept your change of heart?”

“Very likely. They expect to be successful. They’ll think I’ve come to my senses. Cracked under the strain and given in. And they’re practical people, never forget that. With things coming to a head, there’s not much time for them to recruit and train on a substitute. I fit the bill perfectly. They won’t want to lose me. I can do what I have to do under cover of the conference.”

“Ah. There goes Sunday,” Lydia said sadly. “I suppose you’re both going to go haring off back to the capital to twist a few arms?”

“Not at all, Lydia. If ever I needed a good breakfast and a few hours of calm before the storm breaks, it’s now. Though, for everyone’s peace of mind, I will just make one change to my schedule.” Cornelius managed a smile. “I’ll stand Marcus up and go ratting with Brutus.”

CHAPTER 24

Early though the hour was, Armitage was already waiting in the lobby on Monday morning, every hair in place, smile on face and large gun in its usual position when Joe smuggled Kingstone back into the hotel.

“Glad to have you back, sir!” The welcome and relief seemed genuine. The sharp eyes looked quizzically at the laundered shirt and the freshly pressed elegance of the evening suit Kingstone had put on for the return journey. “You’re looking pretty chipper, Senator, after two nights out on the tiles. I hope your weekend wasn’t too demanding.”

“Just what I needed, William! A leisurely couple of days in the country. Friends dropped in for a visit … caught a few rats …” Kingstone said blandly. “You know the sort of thing. Now. Change of clothes. Notes. Ready for take off in one hour? You stay down here and confer with Joe, will you?”

Armitage gave Joe a frosty nod of acknowledgement. Joe was determinedly brief. “All well? Good show! No alteration to the senator’s arrangements. The Geological Museum Hall in Knightsbridge. Got your pass ready? I’m afraid you’re in for a boring day at the conference, Bill. Though I have heard it hinted that the French delegation may provide the assembly with some entertaining histrionics. You may have a chance to extend your vocabulary. We’ll see. I should take a good book in with you.” He opened his briefcase and took out a garish thriller he’d snatched on a whim from his sister’s shelves. “Here—try this. Murder Came Calling. It’s the latest in the Shadow of the Assassin series by Captain Dalrymple. Do you enjoy shockers?”

“No time for them. I’m halfway through A Farewell to Arms. Mugging up on American literature. Look—could you take a minute to see Julia? Miss Kirilovna has still not made an appearance and the maid’s wondering what she should do next.”

“Oh, yes, Julia. Were you able to distract her from her concerns this weekend, Bill?”

“I wasn’t able to offer what she wanted. Dancing’s out. She’s seen all the films. She let me take her out for fish and chips on Friday night but that’s it. No idea where she spent Saturday and Sunday. I was in my room with Ernest Hemingway. She didn’t join us. But she’s in her room now. We’ve exchanged ‘good mornings’ and that’s it. She had breakfast taken up at seven.”