And Cazalet gave him the dreadful news.

When he was done, he ordered, 'Whisky, Clancy, a large one.'

Clancy was at the sideboard at once and back within seconds with a crystal glass half-filled with bourbon. He handed it to Blake, who stared at it, frowning, then swallowed it whole. He put the glass down on the desk.

'I'm sorry, Mr President. This is quite a shock. Although my wife and I were divorced, we've always stayed close, and now I… May I phone Alice back?'

'Of course. Use the anteroom for privacy, then we'll talk.'

'Thank you.' Clancy opened the door and Blake went out.

'Clancy,' Cazalet said, 'I need a cigarette.'

Clancy found a pack, shook one out, and gave it to him. 'Mr President.'

Cazalet inhaled deeply. 'These got me through Vietnam, Clancy. Blake, too, I suspect. What about you? In the Gulf?'

'Long days of boredom, broken by moments of sheer terror? Yes sir, a cigarette came in handy now and then.'

Cazalet nodded. 'Old soldiers, the three of us.' He sighed. 'He doesn't deserve this, Clancy. If there's anything we can do for him, I'd appreciate it.'

'My privilege, Mr President.'

Twenty minutes later Blake returned, his face grey, eyes burning.

'Is there anything I can do to help, Blake?'

'No, Mr President, except with your permission I need to get to New York now.'

Cazalet turned to Clancy Smith. 'Make the call and get the Gulfstream ready to take Blake to New York immediately.'

'You got it, Mr President,' and Clancy went out fast. Cazalet turned to Blake. 'My friend, do you have any kind of idea what happened?'

'No, Mr President.' Blake pulled on his jacket.'But I intend to find out. And with Harry Parker helping me, that's just what I'll do.' He held out his hand. 'Many thanks, Mr President, for your understanding.'