Slow Horses (Slough House, #1)

by Mick Herron

New information demanded at least as much action as discussion. It was Diana Taverner’s role to leave to see about the action, and everybody else’s to get the discussion under way. Or almost everybody’s. She was halfway to the lift when the Barrowboy caught her—almost literally: she turned to find him reaching for her arm. The look she bestowed upon him would have stuck six inches out the back of a more sensitive man. “Not a good time, Roger.” “When is it ever? Diana, this new information.” “You know as much as I do.” “I doubt that. But either way, it doesn’t change anything, does it?” “You think? Not even a little?” “What I meant was, you seemed confident enough before this apparent bombshell went off. Who he is doesn’t make your job harder.” “‘Apparent’?” Each vowel was its own icicle. “Poor choice of word. All I meant was, you’ve an asset in place, yes? You don’t get Mozart-grade info from random phone-grabs or lists of dodgy loan applications.” “It’s nice to hear from an expert, Roger. Remind me, where was your finest hour? Beirut? Baghdad? Or the bar at the Frontline Club?” But it washed off him. “I only meant, that’s the stuff they do over at Slough House.” He barked a self-appreciative laugh. “Hoping to bore the deadweights into jumping ship. This is higher grade. So. You have an asset.” She jabbed the lift button with an index finger. “Yes, Roger. We have an asset. That’s how intelligence gathering works.” “But he didn’t know this latest twist?” “If he knew everyth...