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If it's personal it must be business. That's the only thing which really rattles his cage.'
'But I can't figure out why he should have fallen out with Collingridge over business.'
'And I would love to know who he's got on the inside.'
'What do you mean?' asked Krajewski.
'Grev couldn't have concocted that article without the material on the opinion poll. Without my copy on which to work he had nothing, and without the leaked statistics I had nothing either. And at the same time as this occurs, Landless decides to ditch Collingridge. It's too much of a coincidence for that all to have come together by chance'. She banged her hand on the table with a renewed passion. 'But it can't be Landless on his own. There's somebody on the inside of the Party leaking polls and pulling strings.'
The same person who's supposed to have been leaking all the material since the election?'
'The one the Chief Whip was trying to sort out? That's a fascinating thought. He found nothing definite and before tonight I was never convinced that it was a deliberate campaign of leaks rather than a series of cock-ups ...'
'But now...?'
'Now I've got just two questions, Johnnie - who, and why?'
The adrenalin was pouring into her veins, replacing her earlier despondency with electric urges which tingled throughout her body and brain. She felt exhilarated. Something had touched her deep down, an almost animal lust to pursue her prey until she had found and trapped it. This is what she had come south for. This made it all worthwhile.
'Johnnie, you sweet man. How wise you are! Something smells and I want to find out what -'I knew it when I saw Landless prowling around at Bournemouth. You're right. Now is definitely not the time to throw in the towel and resign. I'm going to get to the bottom of this even if I have to kill someone. Will you help me?'
If that's what you want - of course.'
'There's another thing I want, Johnnie.' She felt alive, charged with excitement and a feeling burning deep inside her which she thought she had long ago forgotten. Xet's pass on the bloody biryani and go back to my place. I've got a bottle of vintage Sauteme in the fridge, and I need some company tonight. All night. Would you mind?'
'Mattie, it's been a long time...'
'Me, too, Johnnie. Too long.'
The statement - or briefing, in fact, because it was not issued in the form of a quotable press release - was made available on Wednesday and was simple. As the Downing Street press secretary told the gathered lobby correspondents, The Prime Minister has never provided his brother with any form of commercially sensitive Government information, and has never discussed any aspect of Renox Chemicals with him. The Prime Minister's brother is extremely ill, and is currently under medical supervision. His doctors have stated that he is not in a fit state to give interviews or answer questions. However, I can assure you that he categorically denies purchasing any Renox shares, having a false address in Paddington, or being involved in this matter in any way whatsoever. That's all I can tell you at the moment'
'Come on, Freddie,' one of the correspondents carped, 'you can't get away with just that. How on earth do you explain the Observer story if the Collingridges are innocent?'
'I can't. Perhaps they were getting confused with another Charles Collingridge, how do I know? But I've known Henry Collingridge for many years, just as you've known me, and all of my experience tells me he is incapable of stooping to such ridiculous and sordid depths. My man is innocent, and you have my word on that!'
He spoke with the vehemence of a professional placing his own reputation on the line along with that of his boss, and the lobby's respect for one of their old time colleagues swung the day for Collingridge - just.
'We're innocent!' bawled the front page of the Daily Mail the following day, with most of the other newspapers following on cue. Finding no more incriminating information with which to play, the media and the Party together sat back exhausted, relishing the opportunity to concentrate for just a moment on other disasters.
Urquhart once again had stepped from the Chief Whip's office at Number 12 Downing Street along to Number 10 at the request of Collingridge. 'You're the only smiling face I see at the moment, Francis, and I need you to keep my spirits up!' They were sitting together in the Cabinet Room reviewing the newspapers, with Collingridge at last managing a smile of his own. For the first time in days he felt he could see the mists beginning to clear.
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