In English there was an interview with New World, the magazine of the United Nations Association in Britain, and a diary item from the New York Observer, noting Munchau's legal summons to the Manhattan magistrate for failure to pay a parking fine. Not what Tom was looking for. He put his head in his hands. He knew there was something else he wasn't remembering. Think. Think. Tom closed his eyes trying to visualize the office of the legal counsel, plush with an outer area containing two secretaries and a window view over the East River. There was a sign on Henning's door. He had gone past it a thousand times without ever looking at it properly. Slowly it formed, in his mind's eye, the lettering taking shape. There it was: W. Henning Munchau. W. Now it came back to him, both of them in the queue to leave Dili, East Timor waiting for their papers to be checked and approved. They had swapped documents, so that Henning could examine Tom's passport photo and mock him on his visible decline. ‘Once so handsome.
What do You think about The Final Reckoning (2008)?
