The Day of The Jackal 15 **
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TWENTY
THE Jackal entered the bar an hour before midnight. It was dark and for several seconds he could hardly make out the shape of the room. There was a long bar running down the left-hand wall, with an illuminated row of mirrors and bottles behind it. The barman stared at him as the door swung closed with unveiled curiosity.
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EIGHTEEN
THE morning of August 21st was as bright and clear as the previous fourteen of that summer heat-wave had been. From the windows of the Chateau de la Haute Chalonniere, looking out over a rolling vista of heather-clad hills, it looked calm and peaceful, giving no hint of the tumult of police enquiries that was even then enveloping the town of Egletons eighteen kilometres away.
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SIXTEEN
MADAME LA BARONNE DE LA CHALONNIERE paused at the door of her room and turned towards the young Englishman who had escorted her there. In the half-darkness of the corridor she could not make out the details of his face; it was just a blur in the gloom.
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FOURTEEN
THE Jackal rose at his habitual hour of 7.30, drank the tea placed by his bedside, washed, showered and shaved. Once dressed, he took the wad of one thousand pounds from inside the lining of his suitcase, slipped it into his breast pocket and went down for breakfast.
The Day of The Jackal 11
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TWELVE
COMMISSAIRE CLAUDE LEBEL arrived back in his office just before six in the morning to find Inspector Caron looking tired and strained, in shirt-sleeves at his desk.
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PART TWO
Anatomy of a manhunt
TEN
AN hour later Claude Lebel emerged from the conference room dazed and bewildered. For fifty minutes he had listened as the Minister of the Interior had briefed him on the task that lay ahead.
The Day of The Jackal 9
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NINE
THE Minister of the Interior sat at his desk later that morning and stared sombrely out of the window into the sunlit circular courtyard beneath.
The Day of The Jackal 8
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EIGHT
UNFORTUNATELY for Kowalski there were no telephone calls to make at the post office on Wednesday morning; had there been he would have missed his plane.
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SEVEN
WHILE the Jackal was doing his shopping in Brussels, Viktor Kowalski was wrestling with the intricacies of international telephone enquiries from Rome's main post office.
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SIX
THE letter for Viktor Kowalski arriving in Rome the following morning. The giant corporal was crossing the foyer of the hotel on his return from picking up the daily mail from the post office when one of the bell-hops called after him, 'Signor, per favore. ..
