Sidney Sheldon’s The Tides of Memory. Сидни Шелдон

he looked horribly disheveled in a crumpled nylon suit, his cheap Tie Rack tie splattered with coffee stains.

      Alexia was not reassured. I hope his mind is less disordered than his dress sense.

      “Is this something I need to be aware of?”

      “Yes, ma’am. The threat has been neutralized but your office has been given a full briefing.”

      “I thought we’d go through everything after this meeting,” Sir Edward Manning said smoothly.

      “Surely a terror threat takes priority over a few nutters showing up at my house or making crank calls?”

      “As I said, Home Secretary, the threat isn’t active. And your security is vitally important. If I may …”

      Without waiting for approval, Commissioner Grant pulled a laptop out of his briefcase and plunked it down on Alexia’s desk. Pushing a stack of documents to one side, he launched directly into a PowerPoint presentation.

      “As prisons minister, you received more threats last year than any other Tory politician.”

      It was a punchy opening. Alexia thought, He’s not frightened of me. That’s good.

      “I did upset a few people.”

      “More than a few, Home Secretary. This is a list of incidents relating to your security. Everything from protest marches to egg throwing to hate mail is listed here, in order of seriousness. My job is to isolate the genuine danger from the, er …”

      “General sea of loathing?” Alexia smiled. The commissioner smiled back.

      “I was going to say ‘from the merely unpleasant.’ ”

      “Right. How can I help?”

      “If I understand correctly from Sir Edward, there have been three specific incidents since your appointment as home secretary. The individual who tried to gain admittance to your country residence. The poisoning of your husband’s dog. And the threatening phone call made to your London home.”

      “That’s correct. Do you think the three are linked?”

      “No.”

      Alexia raised an eyebrow. It was a more unequivocal response than she’d expected.

      “At least, the death of the dog may be connected to the late-night visit to Kingsmere. But the phone call we’re treating as a separate incident. Here’s what we know so far.”

      With a click of the mouse, Commissioner Grant brought up a new screen. Alexia found herself looking into the face of a man about her own age. He had thinning blond hair, striking azure-blue eyes, and a gentle, if somewhat confused, expression on his face.