Next in Line (William Warwick, #5)(13)

A nod and a smile greeted this statement.

‘Secondly, and equally damning, I shall ask Warwick to explain how a valuable self-portrait by a Dutch master disappeared from your home in Spain, only to turn up a few days later on the walls of the Fitzmolean Museum in London. I suspect it was also travelling on the same plane.’

‘Christina will claim that the Hals belongs to her, and she’s loaned it to the museum for their exhibition.’

‘No, she won’t,’ said Booth Watson. ‘Because that’s one of the sub-clauses in her five-million-pound contract.’ He produced another legal document, this one bearing a signature on the last page that Miles immediately recognized. His smile broadened after he’d read that particular clause.

‘What about the rest of my collection? Is it still safely at my home in Spain?’

‘Being looked after by Collins,’ confirmed Booth Watson.

‘A good man, Collins,’ declared Faulkner. ‘See that he gets a bonus. He’s earned it.’

‘Couldn’t agree more,’ said Booth Watson, writing a note with an identical gold pen.

‘So, what happens next?’

‘I will request a sub judice meeting with Sir Julian Warwick, who continues to represent the Crown in your case. I will make it clear to him that it would be unfortunate if the press were to get hold of the real story, which would be embarrassing for the police both here and in Spain, and that given the circumstances it might be wise for him to advise the CPS to drop the latest charges in exchange for you remaining silent.’

‘How do you think the CPS will react to that suggestion?’

‘I don’t think they’ll have a lot of choice, unless they want the story to end up on the front page of every paper with the headline, “Chief Inspector involved in kidnap and burglary”.’

‘And the odds?’ said Miles, cutting to the quick.

‘Better than fifty-fifty, in my opinion. Sir Julian may want to see your sentence doubled, but not at the expense of his only son being locked up in the cell next to you, rather than being promoted, which I hear—’

There was a sharp knock on the door, and a guard poked his head inside the room. ‘Five minutes, sir.’ Booth Watson couldn’t be sure which one of them was being addressed as ‘sir’.

‘Anything else I need to think about before I see you again?’ asked Miles.

‘Yes – I’ve had an offer for your fifty-one per cent shareholding in the Malaysian tea company you purchased from another of my clients.’

‘A drug dealer who’s no longer with us. How much?’

‘Sixteen million.’

‘That must be an opening bid. An export and import company with Marcel and Neffe’s turnover must be worth almost double that.’

‘The shares have dipped since you changed address.’

‘Ask for twenty-four million, and settle for twenty-two,’ said Miles as there was a second rap on the door.

Booth Watson gathered up his papers and put them back in his Gladstone bag, feeling he’d achieved everything he could have hoped for. As he stood up, he said, ‘You are entitled to a private consultation with your legal representative once a week. May I suggest we meet every Friday morning at ten?’

‘Suits me,’ said Miles. ‘I’m not going anywhere for the foreseeable future.’

‘I’m rather hoping to remove the word “foreseeable” and replace it with “near”,’ said Booth Watson, ‘so that we can once again enjoy breakfast together at the Savoy.’

‘Amen to that,’ said Miles.

Booth Watson headed for the door. ‘Thank you, officer,’ he said, standing between them for a moment to allow Miles to pick up the Rolex watch and strap it on his wrist.

The guard accompanied prisoner 0249 back to his cell in A block, while Booth Watson went in the opposite direction and made his way to reception, feeling things couldn’t have worked out much better. However, he knew he would still have to keep a close eye on Christina, to make sure she kept her part of the bargain.





CHAPTER 6





‘I’VE NO IDEA WHERE WE are going,’ admitted William to a guard carrying the inevitable clipboard.

‘Then it must be your first visit, sir,’ responded the guard as he checked William’s warrant card, and placed a tick next to his name.

William nodded as he slipped the card back into his pocket.

‘If you continue on up the road, you’ll see a large white house on your right. I’ll call ahead, to warn them you’re on the way.’

‘Thank you,’ said William as the barrier rose, and Danny proceeded along a wide drive, never exceeding ten miles an hour. A speed he was unfamiliar with.

When the magnificent Wren mansion came into sight, Danny slowed down and circled a large rose garden before coming to a halt.

As if by magic, the front door opened just as William stepped out of the back of the car.

‘Good morning, Chief Inspector,’ said a man dressed in a short black jacket, white shirt, grey tie and pinstriped trousers, with black shoes that shone like a guardsman’s. ‘Her Royal Highness is expecting you.’

William and Ross followed the butler into the house and up a wide sweeping staircase to the first floor. William was so nervous he didn’t even glance at the paintings that adorned the walls. And then he saw her, standing by the entrance to the drawing room.