Conflict of Interest

Marilyn met his expression with a vulpine look. ‘Little trick to boost the column-inch ratings.’

Lombard’s political lobbyists were based on the third floor and the mood here was different again – one of sotto voce conversations, knowing humour, and lashings of eau de cologne. Several of the consultants, mostly male, had a decidedly effete air about them – Chris couldn’t help wondering if all the stories he’d heard about Westminster’s gay mafia were true. Nicholas King, who headed up the division, had the air about him of a benevolent headmaster to whom absolutely nothing would come as a surprise.

He asked Chris which clients he would be working on, and when Chris mentioned Starwear he nodded approvingly. ‘Nathan was very good at public affairs,’ he murmured, ‘very discreet. Never bragged about his victories, which is why Whitehall always listened to him.’

There was a pause before he went on to murmur, ‘We’re going to have to educate his younger brother. They do things differently in the States, you know. Spend their lives buttonholing Congressmen.’

‘You mean you never use the old cash-for-questions gambit?’

‘Good heavens, no!’ King regarded him indulgently. ‘By the time legislation comes up in the House of Commons, you’ve missed the boat. We get in a lot earlier, when civil servants are still drafting bills. Those men from the Ministry are surprisingly amenable to a good argument over a good lunch.’

Also on the third floor was the Lombard library – like everything else in the agency, bigger, better and more comprehensive than anything Chris could have imagined. Library shelves were packed with so many books, reports and reference works that it looked better resourced than any business reference library.

‘You’ll find back issues of all the national press on CD-Rom or microfilm,’ Kate pointed in the direction of one set of shelves, ‘and of course if you ever want Reuter cuts or Mintel reports or any of that kind of stuff, this is the place to come.’

Chris shook his head. ‘Setting this place up and maintaining it must cost Lombard a bomb. Do any other PR agencies have—’

‘No chance.’ Kate shook her head. ‘We can afford it, just like we afford everything else we do that’s different, because the hourly charge-out rates for Lombard consultants are double the industry average.’

‘And your clients?’

‘Pay happily, because we give them something that no other PR agency in this town can.’

‘Media control?’

‘You’ve got it.’

Behind the library, occupying a space even larger than the lobbying unit, were banks of computer operators working behind terminals.

‘Are they part of the lobbying group?’ he asked.

Kate glanced through the solid, tinted-glass wall that divided them from the library. ‘They’re part of every group in the agency. They keep close tabs on everything that’s happening in every British newsroom, and quickly tell us if there’s anything going on we should know about. They might look just like a bunch of hackers, but they’re really our “X Factor” – they give us the edge over all our competitors.’

‘Must be pretty well connected?’

‘Exactly.’ She met his eyes meaningfully. ‘And strictly off limits to the rest of us.’

Chris recalled what Charlotte had mentioned. ‘Level Three security,’ he murmured, ‘access authorised only by Mike Cullen personally. Read it in the Corporate ID manual earlier.’

‘You have been conscientious,’ Kate smiled.

Turning to make their way back to the lifts, Chris asked, ‘So what are they called, these X Factor people?’

‘Monitoring Services,’ Kate replied. Then, as a figure approached them from a distance, ‘And here is Mr Monitoring Services himself.’

He was much older than most Lombard employees, fifties maybe, shortish in build, his pear-shaped body clad in tweeds. His complexion was sallow, with dark liver blemishes. Not only did he look a lot different from anyone else Chris had met at the agency, he also had a very different manner, seeming hesitant, even reluctant as Kate gestured towards him now. ‘Come, meet our newest recruit – Chris Treiger, Research and Planning Director. Chris, this is the Head of Monitoring Services, Bruno d’Andrea.’

Chris reached out to shake his hand, noting how d’Andrea’s eyes

met his for only a split instant before he was glancing away again. They were large and heavy-lidded, so that even in that flash of contact they seemed bizarrely omniscient.

‘Pleased to meet you,’ said Chris.

‘Likewise.’ D’Andrea abruptly dropped his hand. Then he was making his way towards the Monitoring Services door, searching in his pocket for a key card.

As Kate and Chris made off, she whispered under her breath, ‘Bit of a cold fish, but an incredible operator.’

‘Been here long?’