Chapter Nine
Chelsea, London – 1989
He had turned the dining table into an operational planning desk. It was littered with notebooks, old photographs, pens, pencils, a telephone and bits of paper with hastily scribbled messages on them. It looked like chaos, but to Jack Grant it was organised chaos.
He had been back in London, at his Chelsea apartment, for just over three days and had used his time well, hitting the ground running; gathering what little intelligence that he could, organising resources and making discreet contact with several of his old sources. But from the kidnappers, so far, there was nothing.
His first task was to build on the intelligence that he had learned about the terrorist/assassin – the Harlequin. But, aside from what he had already learned in Rome, there was
