The Keepers of the Persian Gate by Sydney Maurice Page B

abounded by further monuments to historical events. The famous Gray’s Inn, a former Inn of Court where Winston Churchill had first met Franklin D. Roosevelt in 1917, sat perpendicular to the bottom of the street. At the top end of the street was the Goodenough College, which had earned a reputation for providing accommodation for some of the world’s finest students: notable alumni included former Prime Ministers of South Africa and Bulgaria. Paddy had been hopeful that he might get on the waiting list for accommodation at Goodenough himself. It just so happened that the former Commandant at Sandhurst, Colonel Thomas Sinclair, was the new Director there.
    Shortly after returning from Paris, Paddy had spoken to his Commanding Officer in Military Intelligence, informing him that he had decided to pursue the Army Legal Services full-time. However, in order to do so, he had to actually qualify as a lawyer. Up until now, he had been using a mixture of his own experience on the ground, as well as his legal academics, to perform the role of a specialist Army paralegal. However, that could only ever take him so far, and Paddy, already sitting on the commission of Captain in the British Army, needed to gain his professional qualifications in order to move any further through the ranks.
    In typical Army Legal Services fashion, the Army farmed out Paddy’s training to an external firm. For barristers, it was well known that there were a few sets of chambers across the legal district in London which would automatically provide a pupillage for recruits of ALS. For solicitors, the scope was narrower. Paddy was posted to Dunlop & McLaine for his ‘Solicitor Apprenticeship’ or ‘Training Contract’.
    Managing Partner William Dunlop, supposedly a descendant of a grand shipbuilding dynasty in Ireland and Scotland, was himself also a former officer of the British Army. His father, his father’s father, and his father’s father’s father before him had all pursued the same professional path. That path consisted of Army service until such time as they had seen active combat, followed by Army Legal Services, followed by professional independent practice at Dunlop & McLaine. It wasn’t an enormous firm by London standards: it had about ninety practising lawyers. However, it also had one of the most established client bases in London legal circles and it was almost unheard of for an existing client of Dunlop & McLaine to go to another firm. Clients had ranged significantly over the years, from captains of industry, to aristocracy and the Ministry of Defence.
    As Paddy walked down Doughty Street, he approached a set of townhouses built in white limestone. Paddy recognised them from the brochure he had been sent by his new Commanding Officer at ALS. As he walked up the steps, he observed that the office seemed to take up three townhouses. The name Dunlop & McLaine adorned the top of the doorframe in letters embossed in gold and blue on the limestone wall.
    There was a doorman dressed in full army uniform posted at the door. As Paddy approached the door, the doorman stepped in front of him and in the most marble mouthed voice imaginable, asked, “May I be of some assistance to you, young man?”
    “Ah, yes, I’m here to meet Mr. Dunlop,” said Paddy.
    “You must be Mr. Trimble, if I am not mistaken?”
    “Yes, I’m Paddy.”
    “Very nice to meet you, eh, Paddy. I am Major Howard, formerly of Her Majesty’s 3 rd Gurkha Rifles. I am now Chief of Security with Dunlop & McLaine. Right this way…”
    The Major led Paddy through a rather unassuming set of double wooden doors into a magnificent entrance hall and reception area. A marble spiral staircase circumnavigated the hallway, and an enormous sculpture of a wooden galleon sat atop a fountain in the middle of the hall. Paddy was ushered over to a grand seating area in a corner of the hall. Above the chairs, the walls were covered with pictures of Dunlops and McLaines alongside former