Jeffrey Archer - As the Crow Flies

The description of her first meeting with Daniel, down to his changing the place cards at the Trumpers' housewarming party, brought tears to Charlie's eyes. But on the subject of her parentage and the names of Margaret Ethel Trentham and Miss Rachel Benson, she still had nothing to offer.

By six o'clock Cathy was drained. Dr. Atkins took Charlie on one side and warned him that in his opinion it was most unlikely that she would remember much more of what took place in her life before she arrived in London. Perhaps minor incidents might come back to her from time to time, but nothing of any real significance.

"I'm sorry, I wasn't much help to you, was I?" said Cathy as Charlie drove her back to London.

He took her hand. "We're not beaten yet," he promised her, although he was beginning to feel that Trevor Roberts' odds of fifty-fifty of proving that Cathy was the rightful claimant to the Hardcastle Trust were looking distinctly optimistic.

Becky was there to welcome them home and the three of them had a quiet supper together. Charlie made no reference to what had taken place at Cambridge earlier in the day until after Cathy had retired to her room. When Becky heard how Cathy had responded to Dr. Atkins' examination she insisted that from now on the girl was to be left in peace.

"I lost Daniel because of that woman," she told her husband. "I'm not willing to lose Cathy as well. If you're going to continue your fight for Trumper's you must do it without involving her."

Charlie nodded his agreement though he wanted to shout out: how am I expected to save everything I've built up from being taken away from me by yet another Trentham without being allowed to push Cathy to the brink?

Just before he switched out the bedroom light the phone rang. It was Trevor Roberts calling from Sydney, but his news did not advance their cause. Walter Slade had refused to release any new information on Ethel Trentham and wouldn't even sign a document confirming he had known her. Charlie once again cursed himself for the crass way he had handled the interview with the old Yorkshireman.

"And the bank?" he asked, not sounding too hopeful.

"The Commercial Bank of Australia say they wouldn't allow access to the details of Miss Benson's private account unless we could prove a crime had been committed. What Mrs. Trentham did to Cathy might well be described as evil, but I fear it wasn't strictly criminal."

"It hasn't been a good day for either of us," admitted Charlie.

"Never forget that the other side doesn't know that."

"True, but how much do they know?"

"My uncle told me about Birkenshaw's slip of the tongue with 'her,' so my bet is they know almost as much as we do. When you confront them, better assume they do, while at the same time never stop looking for that missing link."

After Charlie had put down the phone, he lay awake for some time and didn't move again until he could hear Becky breathing deeply. Then he slid out of bed, donned his dressing gown and crept down to his study. He opened a notebook and began to write out every fact he had gathered during the last few days in the hope that it might just trigger some memory. The following morning Cathy found him slumped, head on his desk, sound asleep.

"I don't deserve you, Charlie," she whispered, kissing him on the forehead. He stirred and raised his eyes.

"We're winning," he said sleepily and even managed a smile, but he realized from the expression on her face that she didn't believe him.

Becky joined them for breakfast an hour later and talked of everything except the face-to-face meeting that had been arranged to take place in Mr. Baverstock's rooms that afternoon.

As Charlie stood up to leave the table, Cathy said, quite unexpectedly, "I'd like to be present at the showdown."

"Do you think that's wise?" asked Becky, glancing anxiously towards her husband.

"Perhaps not," said Cathy. "But I'm still certain I want to be there, not just learn about the outcome later, second-hand."

"Good girl," said Charlie. "The meeting will be at three in Baverstock's office, when we will get the chance to present our case. Trentham's lawyer will be joining us at four. I'll pick you up at two-thirty, but if you want to change your mind before then, it won't worry me in the slightest."

Becky turned to see how Cathy had reacted to this suggestion and was disappointed.

When Charlie marched into his office at exactly eight-thirty, Daphne and Arthur Selwyn were already waiting for him as instructed.

"Coffee for three and please, no interruptions," Charlie told Jessica, placing his night's work on the desk in front of him.

"So where do we start?" asked Daphne, and for the next hour and a half they rehearsed questions, statements and tactics that could be used when dealing with Trentham and Birkenshaw, trying to anticipate every situation that might arise.

By the time a light lunch was sent in just before twelve they all felt drained; no one spoke for some time.

"It's important for you to remember that you're dealing with a different Trentham this time," said Arthur Selwyn eventually, as he dropped a sugar lump into his coffee.

"They're all as bad as each other as far as I'm concerned," said Charlie.

"Perhaps Nigel's every bit as resolute as his brother, but I don't believe for one moment that he has his mother's cunning or Guy's ability to think on his feet."

"Just what are you getting at, Arthur?" asked Daphne.

"When you all meet this afternoon Charlie must keep Trentham talking as much as possible, because I've noticed over the years during board meetings that he often says one sentence too many and simply ends up defeating his own case. I'll never forget the time he was against the staff having their own canteen because of the loss of revenue it was bound to incur, until Cathy pointed out that the food came out of the same kitchen as the restaurant and we actually ended up making a small profit on what would otherwise have been thrown away."

Charlie considered this statement as he took another bite out of his sandwich.

"Wonder what his advisers are telling him are my weak points."

"Your temper," said Daphne. "You've always lived on a short fuse. So don't give them the chance to light it."

At one o'clock Daphne and Arthur Selwyn left Charlie in peace. After the door had closed behind them Charlie removed his jacket, went over to the sofa, lay down and for the next hour slept soundly. At two o'clock Jessica woke him. He smiled up at her, feeling fully refreshed: another legacy from the war.

He returned to his desk and read through his notes once again before leaving his office to walk three doors down the corridor and pick up Cathy. He quite expected her to have changed her mind but she already had her coat on and was sitting waiting for him. They drove over to Baverstock's office, arriving a full hour before Trentham and Birkenshaw were due to put in an appearance.

The old lawyer listened carefully to Charlie as he presented his case, occasionally nodding or making further notes, though from the expression on his face Charlie had no way of knowing what he really felt.

When Charlie had come to the end of his monologue Baverstock put his fountain pen down on the desk and leaned back in his chair. For some time he didn't speak.

"I am impressed by the logic of your argument, Sir Charles," he said eventually, as he leaned forward and placed the palms of his hands on the desk in front of him. "And indeed with the evidence you have gathered. However, I'm bound to say that without the corroboration of your main witness and also with no written affidavits from either Walter Slade or Miss Benson Mr. Birkenshaw will be quick to point out that your claim is based almost entirely on circumstantial evidence.

"Nonetheless," he continued, "we shall have to see what the other side has to offer. I find it hard to believe following my conversation with Birkenshaw on Saturday night that your findings will come as a complete revelation to his client."