The Night Manager

"Now you listen to me, Redfers," she said. "Jack Linden who came here a while back is far away over the hills. The person who lives at the Lanyon ― well, I grant you he may be some kind of relative of Jack's, that's possible, and there's a similarity for those of us who didn't know Jack well. But I've had the police here, Redfers. A very persuasive gentleman from Yorkshire, with charm to burn, came all the way from London and spoke to certain people. And what may look like Jack Linden to some of us is an innocent stranger to those who are a little wiser. So I'll trouble you never to talk out of turn again, because if you do, you'll hurt two precious souls."

The End

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

I acknowledge with gratitude the help of Jeff Leen of The Miami Herald and Rudy Maxa, Robbyn Swan, Jim Webster of Webster Associates, Edward Nowell of Nowell Antiques, Billy Coy of Enron, Abby Redhead of ABS, Roger and Anne Harris of Harris's Restaurant, Penzance, Billy Chappie of St. Buryan, and friendly spirits in the U. S. Drug Enforcement Agency and the U. S. Treasury who for obvious reasons cannot be mentioned here. Nor would it be appropriate to name arms dealers who opened their doors to me, as opposed to those who ran a mile when they heard me coming, or a former British soldier in Ireland who allowed me to plunder his memory. The management of a certain great hotel in Zürich, true to its traditions, showed a sporting indulgence towards the foibles of an old guest. Scott Gryphon piloted me in Canada, Peter Dorman and his colleagues at the Chicago House in Luxor showed me extraordinary courtesy, and opened my eyes to the splendours of ancient Egypt. Frank Wisner revealed to me a Cairo I shall never forget. The Mnushins lent me their piece of paradise. Kevin Buckley pointed me in good directions, Dick Koster gave me the keys to Faberge, Gerasimos Kanelopulos spoiled me in his bookshop, Luis Martinez gave me a precious piece of Panama's magic. Jorge Ritter showed me Colón and much more, Barbara Deshotels shepherded me in Curaçao. If I have failed to live up to their hospitality and wise words, the fault is in me, not in them. Of all the people along the way who gave me encouragement and a helping hand, John Galley and Sandy Lean are almost too close to thank, but without them the Iron Pasha might never have set sail.

John Le Carré was born in 1931. After attending the universities of Berrie and Oxford, he taught at Eton and spent five years in the British Foreign Service.

The Spy Who Came In from the Cold, his third book, secured him a worldwide reputation. He divides his time between England and the Continent.