Bacchus and Fanshawe offered simultaneous information.
‘Never short of a hero at any rate, this country of ours,’ said Joe comfortably. ‘Someone always steps forward. And just think, Hopkirk, what one compelling image did for Lord Kitchener!’
‘Sir!’ Buoyed by Joe’s tongue-in-cheek flattery, Hopkirk felt cheerful enough to offer the table his version of the famous Kitchener glare and a parody of the Kitchener gesture. ‘And I’ll remember not to give ’em the finger.’
‘Oh — and better to convey the clear impression we are looking no further. Stress that we have the villains under lock and key. We have their confessions. The next man to deliver judgement on the matter will be Sir Archibald Bodkin.’
‘Wearing his little black cap,’ said Fanshawe with relish.
‘James … time, I think, to narrow our focus and let the Branch loose to do what the Branch does best — anticipate, protect, save lives. And we’ll start by reinstating the security squads we’d set up.’
‘In the light of events, I don’t anticipate any opposition this time round.’ Bacchus grinned. His expression grew more sombre as he murmured: ‘Even from Winston. Though he’ll be a dashed awkward subject. Old soldier that he is, he expects to look after himself. And he can. I wouldn’t want to try conclusions with him.’
‘Are we thinking Winston is the next one on the list then?’ Chappel asked.
‘No. This organization, if organization it is,’ Bacchus added with a concessionary glance at Hopkirk, ‘would seem to be going for that moment of weakness, that chink in the armour offered by a person who finds himself — temporarily — both socially and geographically disoriented.’
They all frowned, trying to work out what he meant.