know?'
'It was sent to the press, at least to one paper, the Paternoster Review. This is in today's edition, I've only just seen it.'
He opened his desk drawer, took out the journal and handed it to Dalgliesh. There was a folded marker at page eight. Dalgliesh let his eyes slide down the page. The paper had been running a series of axtides on junior members of the Government and it was Berowne's turn. The first part of the article was innocuous, factual, hardly original. It briefly reviewed Berowne's previous career as a barrister, his first unsuccessful attempt to enter Parliament, his success at the 1979 election, his phenomenal rise to junior ministerial rank, his probable standing with the Prime Minister. It mentioned that he lived with his mother, Lady Ursula Berowne, and his second wife in one of the few extant houses built by Sir John Soane and that he had one child by his first marriage, 24-year-old Sarah Berowne, who was active in left-wing politics and who was thought to be estranged from her father. It was unpleasantly snide about the circumstances of his second marriage. His elder brother, Major Sir Hugo Berowne, had been killed in Northern Ireland and Paul Berowne had married his brother's fianc6e within five months of the car accident which had killed his wife. 'It was, perhaps, appropriate that the bereaved fianc6e and husband should find mutual consolation although no one who has seen the beautiful Barbara Berowne could suppose that the marriage was merely a matter of fraternal duty.' It went on to prog-nosticate with some insight but little charity about his political future. But much of that was little more than Lobby gossip.
The sting lay in the final paragraph and its origin was unmistakable. 'He is a man who is known to like women; certainly most find him attractive. But those women closest to him have been singularly unlucky. His first wife died in
a car smash whil lie he was driving. A young nurse, Theresa
Nolan, who nurrsed his mother, Lady Ursula Berowne,
killed herself alto er an abortion, and it was Ber0wne who
found the body. ' Four weeks ago a girl who worked for
him, Diana Traxrtiers, was found drowned following a party
given for his wife on her birthday, a party at which he was
- - 'esent Bad luck is as lethal for a olmc
expecteo to De orr ' D ' ' 'an
� . r Id yet follow him into ' '
as hahtoss. It coty hs political career
It could be the .sour smell of misfortune rather than the
suspicion that he doesn't know what he really wants which
� - - rediction that here is the Conserva could mock the p. , next
tive Prime Minist ter but one.
Berowne said:
'The Paternoster Review isn't circulated in the Depart ment. Perhaps it hould be. Judging from this we might be
missing entertainrnent if not instruction. I read it occasion all-y at the club mainly for the literary reviews Do you know anything a�ut the paper?' He could, thovght Dalgliesh, have asked the Depart ment's own publi: rlations people. It was interesting that
apparently he hatn t chosen to. He said:
'I've known Cc5nrad Ackroyd for some years. He owns and edits the Pate'ri�stet' His father and grandfather had it before him. In tlose days it was printed in Paternoster Place in the City. Ackroyd doesn't make money out of it. Papa left him rea;�nably well provided for through more orthodox investmnts, but I imagine it just about breaks even. He likes to print gossip occasionally, but the paper isn't a second Priate Eye. Ackroyd hasn't the guts for thing. I don't thiPk he has ever risked being sued in the history of the pal7er' It makes it less audacious and les;.; entertaining than ehe Eye, of course, except for the literary and dramatic revifws' They have an enjoyable perversity.' Only the Paternosler, he recalled, would have described 'S a revival of PriestleY An Inspector Calls as a play about a -. :
vho caused a great deal of trouble to a very ureso ., He added. 'Th �
respectable famfiy,
. � e facts wfil
Laurice Elehwany Molinari