The same night he met Meddoes and Drummond together, the latter over from Paris on a week’s leave from the Embassy. “Why do you kill me?” Michelle asked. In mid-bite, she heard a car door slam that was recognizable. ‘How in God’s name did the wretched fellow get in then?’ ‘Dug a tunnel?’ suggested Gerald, halting next to a pair of French windows at the front. ‘It is London’s loss, ma’am. Alors, how did you get in?’ ‘Oh, we broke in,’ Gerald told her cheerfully. “I have stood it for a month, Anna,” he exclaimed. Her state of mind would have seemed altogether discreditable to her grandmother. ‘Jacques, you have been very much my friend.
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