Page 9 of Nothing But the Night (Basic Instincts 2)

“I’d like to speak to Mr Archer.”

“Mr Archer is in Parliament at the moment,” she had a tone of self-importance.

“And when will he be back on home soil?” Jason gave his most charming smile.

Her eyes wavered uncertainly before she snapped back into efficiency mode. “Mr Soloman’s next surgery is a week on Friday. I can check the availability if you’d like to make an appointment.”

“Are you in charge around here? When Soloman’s away. Miss, er…” He peered at her name badge. “Trish Wait.”

“That’s Mrs Wait. May I ask what this is about? Mr Archer’s time is very limited.”

Jason produced his ID. “Jason Durham. I’m a private investigator. Mr Archer is going to want to speak to mesooner rather than later. I can assure you of that, Mrs Wait. Now, when do you think I can talk to him?”

She was thrown. “I…well…I…”

A new voice cut across the room. “What exactly is the problem here?”

An incredibly attractive woman of around fifty had appeared in a doorway to the right. She was tall, with a Pilates-perfect posture and immaculate grooming. Her honey-coloured hair was thick and lush, and her make-up looked like it had been applied by a professional. The creases in her blue trousers were razor sharp, while her cream blouse was made of the highest quality silk. None of that came off a rail.

She spoke to Mrs Wait. “Is there a problem?”

The older woman looked lost. Speech had deserted her.

Jason raised his ID card in the newcomer’s direction. “Jason Durham, private investigator. Are you in charge?”

She looked him over with cold eyes. He noticed a slight downward twitch of her mouth. “Chantelle Readymarcher.Mrs. I’m Mr Archer’s personal assistant.”

Of course you are. She looked exactly how he’d imagine a politician’s PA would look.

“So, you’re the one I need to speak to about arranging a meeting.”

Chantelle crossed her arms. “I thought private investigators were supposed to be intelligent. You’re either not every bright or you’re deaf. Mrs Wait has already explained that you can make an appointment to see Mr Archer at his monthly surgery.” She turned to Mrs Wait. “Does Mr Archer have any availability for next week?”

Mrs Wait moved closer to her computer screen and squinted. “It looks like he’s fully booked.”

Chantelle returned her gaze to Jason, triumph twinkling in her eyes. “There you go then. It will have to be next month. Mrs Wait can book you in for that.” She turned dismissively.

“I need to speak to Mr Archer about Theo Glass.”

As she turned, he watched her face for any reaction.

She gave an airy shrug. “Am I supposed to know who that is?”

“I don’t know,” he said, stepping towards her, studying her for any sign that the name registered. “It would depend on how personal your work for Mr Archer goes. You’ve never heard of Theo?”

Chantelle let out an exasperated sigh and closed her eyes. She opened them again, fixing him with an icy stare. “No. Should I have?”

“Theo Glass was killed by a hit-and-run driver in front of the Vermont Hotel last December.”

She softened, just a fraction. “I remember that. It was an accident, as I recall. I don’t see what it has to do with Mr Archer.”

“It’s my understanding that they knew each other.”

“And?”

“I need to talk to him about what happened to Theo. And his relationship with him.”

Chantelle’s mouth took another downward twitch. “And I’ve already told you, you can make an appointment to see Mr Archer next month. Otherwise, you can direct any questions to him in writing. All of his contact details are available on the website.”

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