‘Sir Henry Buxford’s on the line. Can you speak to him?’ Trish had been rereading her copy of the letter she had dropped in at Grunschwig’s offices on her way into chambers and wondering whether she should pre-empt trouble by telling Antony what she had done or leave it to Henry. ‘Yes. Put him through.’ ‘I have your envelope, Trish. And I wanted to assure you that I will tackle the matter now. I should also like to say how grateful I am for everything you’ve done, and for the discretion with which you have done it. But I do think your suggestion that Toby might have got rid of his old friend is more than a little Jacobean. As is the idea that he could have deliberately broken his son’s arm.’ Thank God he’s taking it so calmly, she thought. ‘I shall be very relieved if I am wrong,’ she said. ‘But I know there’s something serious going on.’ ‘I think you’re right about that. But I’ll handle it from here. I was wondering, though, whether I could persuade you to meet me this evening so that I can thank you in person for what you’ve done.
