This Was a Man (The Clifton Chronicles #7)(38)

‘Not a problem,’ said Mellor, hoping Nash hadn’t noticed that he’d broken out in a cold sweat. He’d called his estate agent in Bristol a couple of weeks before, and discovered that his old flat on Broad Street still hadn’t been sold – not the easiest of markets, Mr Carter had explained, but if he were to lower the price, he felt confident a deal could be done. Mellor lowered the price, and an offer had been forthcoming, but the buyer wasn’t willing to exchange until he’d seen the surveyor’s report – which wouldn’t be completed for another fortnight.

At least the Sloane problem had been dealt with. He would write to Knowles and ask him to make a prison visit as soon as possible. Surely he would fall in line now that Sloane was no longer around to call the tune.

A few more yards before he asked, ‘When and where?’ He hoped he sounded confident.

‘Next Thursday. I’ll let you know the details after Tracie’s visit on Sunday. Just be sure that nice Lady Virginia doesn’t forget to bring her Swan and Edgar bag with her.’

Mellor fell back and joined Sharp Johnny, who was as cheerful as ever, but then he only had nineteen days left to serve.





15


‘I DON’T SUPPOSE you have ten thousand pounds you could spare?’ said Mellor. Virginia wondered if he was joking until she saw the look of desperation in his eyes. ‘I have a short-term cash-flow problem,’ he explained, ‘which can be resolved if only I’m given a little more time. But I need ten thousand quickly.’ He glanced across the crowded room to where Nash was deep in conversation with his only ever guest. ‘Very quickly.’

Virginia thought about the ￡111,000 she still had in her current account, and smiled sweetly. ‘But no one knows better than you, Desmond, I’m as poor as a church mouse. My brother gives me an allowance of two thousand a month, which is barely enough to live on, and the only other income I’ve had recently was the small amount of money I received following the sale of your mother’s house. I suppose I could let you have a thousand, and possibly another thousand in a month’s time.’

‘That’s good of you, Virginia, but it will be too late by then.’

‘Do you have any assets you could put up as collateral?’ Virginia asked. Familiar words she’d heard her bank manager use whenever she was overdrawn.

‘My ex-wife ended up with our house in the country as part of the divorce settlement. I’ve put my flat in Bristol on the market. It’s worth about twenty thousand, and although someone has made an offer, contracts haven’t been exchanged.’

‘What about Adrian Sloane? After all, it wouldn’t be a large amount to him.’

‘That’s no longer possible,’ said Mellor, without explanation.

‘And Jim Knowles?’

Mellor thought for a moment. ‘I suppose Jim just might be willing to help if I put the flat up as collateral and there was something in it for him.’

‘Like what?’

‘To chair the company, cash, whatever he wants.’

‘I’ll get in touch with him the moment I get home, and find out if he’s willing to help.’

‘Thank you, Virginia. And of course there’ll be something in it for you.’

Once again, Mellor looked across the room at Nash, who he knew would be taking instructions as to where the second instalment should be delivered. Never the same place twice, and never the same person, Nash had already explained.

‘But I’ll still need the ten thousand before Thursday,’ Mellor said, turning back to Virginia. ‘And I can’t begin to tell you what the consequences could be if you fail.’

‘How often are you allowed to make telephone calls?’

‘Once a week, but I only get three minutes, and don’t forget the screws are listening to every word.’

‘Call me on Tuesday afternoon, around five o’clock. I should have seen Knowles by then, and I’ll do everything in my power to persuade him.’





‘It’s all set up for Thursday,’ said Nash, when Mellor joined him in the yard.

‘Where and when?’ asked Mellor, unwilling to admit he didn’t have the money.

‘Trafalgar Square, between the fountains, twelve o’clock.’

‘Understood.’

‘Will it be the same bag lady?’

‘Yes,’ said Mellor, hoping that Virginia had not only got the money, but would be willing to act as the intermediary once again.

Nash looked at him more closely. ‘I hope you’ve given some thought to the consequences of not coming up with the second half of the payment.’

‘Not a problem,’ said Mellor, who had thought of little else for the past week. He fell back and walked alone, wondering, praying, hoping, that Virginia had convinced Knowles to lend him the ten thousand. He checked his watch. In another five hours he’d know.





‘Jim Knowles,’ said a voice on the other end of the line.

‘Jim, it’s Virginia Fenwick.’

‘Virginia, how are you? It’s been a long time.’

‘Too long. But I’m about to make up for it.’

‘What do you have in mind?’

‘I have a little proposition that you just might find interesting. I don’t suppose you’re free for lunch?’