Jeffrey Archer - The Sins of the Father

‘Didn’t you hear what I said?’ Hugo hollered as he stepped forward, grabbed her by the hair and yanked her head back.

With all the force she could muster, Olga jerked her leg back and rammed the heel of her shoe into his groin.

‘You bitch,’ screamed Hugo as he let go of her hair and fell back, allowing Olga a split second to grab the letter opener and conceal it inside the sleeve of her dress. She turned to face her tormentor. When Hugo had caught his breath, he once again moved towards her. As he passed a side table, he grabbed a heavy glass ashtray and raised it high above his head, determined to deliver a blow from which she would not so easily recover.

When he was only a pace away, she pulled up her sleeve, gripped the letter opener with both hands and pointed the blade towards his heart. Just as he was about to bring the ashtray crashing down on her head, he spotted the blade for the first time, tried to swerve to one side, tripped and lost his balance, falling heavily on top of her.

There was a moment’s silence before he sank slowly to his knees and let out a scream that would have woken all Hades. Olga watched as he grabbed at the handle of the letter opener. She stood mesmerized, as if she was watching a slow-motion clip from a film. It must have been only a moment, although it felt interminable to Olga, before Hugo finally collapsed and slumped to the floor at her feet.

She stared down at the blade of the letter opener. The tip was sticking out of the back of his neck and blood was spurting in every direction, like an out-of-control fire hydrant.

‘Help me,’ Hugo whimpered, trying to raise a hand.

Olga knelt by his side and took the hand of a man she’d once loved. ‘There is nothing I can do to help you, my darling,’ she said, ‘but then there never was.’

His breathing was becoming less regular, although he still gripped her hand tightly. She bent down to be sure that he could hear her every word. ‘You only have a few more moments to live,’ she whispered, ‘and I wouldn’t want you to go to your grave without knowing the details of Mitchell’s latest report.’

Hugo made one last effort to speak. His lips moved, but no words came out.

‘Emma has found Harry,’ said Olga, ‘and I know you’ll be pleased to hear he’s alive and well.’ Hugo’s eyes never left her as she leant even closer, until her lips were almost touching his ear. ‘And he’s on his way back to England to claim his rightful inheritance.’

It wasn’t until Hugo’s hand went limp that she added, ‘Ah, but I forgot to tell you, I’ve also learnt how to lie like you.’

The Bristol Evening Post and the Bristol Evening News ran different headlines on the first editions of their papers the following day.

SIR HUGO BARRINGTON

STABBED TO DEATH

was the banner headline in the Post , while the News preferred to lead with

UNKNOWN WOMAN THROWS HERSELF

IN FRONT OF LONDON EXPRESS

Only Detective Chief Inspector Blakemore, the head of the local CID, worked out the connection between the two.

‘GOOD MORNING, MR GUINZBURG,’ said Sefton Jelks as he rose from behind his desk. ‘It is indeed an honour to meet the man who publishes Dorothy Parker and Graham Greene.’

Guinzburg gave a slight bow, before shaking hands with Jelks.

‘And Miss Barrington,’ said Jelks, turning to Emma. ‘How nice to see you again. As I am no longer representing Mr Lloyd, I hope we can be friends.’

Emma frowned, and sat down without shaking Jelks’s outstretched hand.

Once the three of them were settled, Jelks continued. ‘Perhaps I might open this meeting by saying I thought it would be worthwhile for the three of us to get together and have a frank and open discussion, and see if it were possible to come up with a solution to our problem.’

‘Your problem,’ interjected Emma.

Mr Guinzburg pursed his lips, but said nothing.

‘I am sure,’ continued Jelks, focusing his attention on Guinzburg, ‘that you will want to do what is best for all concerned.’

‘And will that include Harry Clifton this time?’ asked Emma.

Guinzburg turned to Emma and gave her a disapproving grimace.

‘Yes, Miss Barrington,’ said Jelks, ‘any agreement we might reach would certainly include Mr Clifton.’

‘Just as it did last time, Mr Jelks, when you walked away at the time he most needed you?’

‘Emma,’ said Guinzburg reproachfully.

‘I should point out, Miss Barrington, that I was doing no more than carrying out my client’s instructions. Mr and Mrs Bradshaw both assured me that the man I was representing was their son, and I had no reason to believe otherwise. And of course I did prevent Tom from being tried for-’

‘And then you left Harry to fend for himself.’

‘In my defence, Miss Barrington, when I finally discovered that Tom Bradshaw was in fact Harry Clifton, he begged me to keep my counsel, as he didn’t want you to discover that he was still alive.’

‘That’s not Harry’s version of what happened,’ said Emma, who appeared to regret her words the moment she’d said them.

Guinzburg made no attempt to mask his displeasure. He looked like a man who realizes his trump card has been played too soon.

‘I see,’ said Jelks. ‘From that little outburst, I must assume you have both read the earlier notebook?’

‘Every word,’ said Emma. ‘So you can stop pretending you only did what was in Harry’s best interests.’

‘Emma,’ said Guinzburg firmly, ‘you must learn not to take things so personally, and try to consider the bigger picture.’

‘Is that the one where a leading New York lawyer ends up in jail for falsifying evidence and perverting the course of justice?’ said Emma, her eyes never leaving Jelks.

‘I apologize, Mr Jelks,’ said Guinzburg. ‘My young friend gets quite carried away when it comes to-’

‘You bet I do,’ said Emma, now almost shouting, ‘because I can tell you exactly what this man -’ she pointed at Jelks – ‘would have done if Harry had been sent to the electric chair. He would have pulled the lever himself if he thought it would save his own skin.’

‘That is outrageous,’ said Jelks, jumping up from his seat. ‘I had already prepared an appeal that would have left the jury in no doubt that the police had arrested the wrong man.’

‘So you did know it was Harry all along,’ said Emma, sitting back in her chair.

Jelks was momentarily stunned by Emma’s rebuke. She took advantage of his silence.

‘Let me tell you what’s going to happen, Mr Jelks. When Viking publishes Harry’s first notebook in the spring, not only will your reputation be shattered and your career in ruins, but, like Harry, you’ll discover at first hand what life is like at Lavenham.’

Jelks turned to Guinzburg in desperation. ‘I would have thought it in both our interests to reach an amicable settlement before this whole affair gets out of hand.’

‘What do you have in mind, Mr Jelks?’ asked Guinzburg, trying to sound conciliatory.

‘You’re not going to give this crook a lifeline, are you?’ said Emma.

Guinzburg raised a hand. ‘The least we can do, Emma, is hear him out.’

‘Just as he heard Harry out?’

Jelks turned to Guinzburg. ‘If you felt able not to publish the earlier notebook, I can assure you I would make it worth your while.’

‘I can’t believe you’re taking this seriously,’ said Emma.

Jelks continued to address Guinzburg as if Emma wasn’t in the room. ‘Of course, I realize that you stand to lose a considerable amount of money if you decide not to go ahead.’