CHAPTER SIX
Sir Geoffrey relaxed in the brown leather Chesterfield chair. It hadn’t been seven minutes since he entered his Mayfair club and Jennings and his silver tray were already by Sir Geoffrey’s side bearing a twelve year old malt and a copy of the Times. He took a sip and read again the headline on page two: SOUL SINGER ISAAC CONSTANTINE DIES IN TRAGIC ACCIDENT. He smiled and breathed a small sigh of relief. Above him on the walls, portraits of famous past members looked down, as if on judgement for what he’d done. Their stern faces blended with the room’s dark panelling while old fashioned chandeliers highlighted deep piled Wilton rugs. The smell of brandy and cigars wafted from the billiards room. The intermittent crack of colliding balls indicated a game was in progress.
As he
