Next in Line (William Warwick, #5)(31)

‘How long will that take?’

‘I’ve already prepared a preliminary draft, so a few days at most. Once you’ve signed the agreement, I would start work on your early release, which means you’ll have to be a model prisoner for the next few months. And, Miles, I mean model.’ Booth Watson bent down and placed the file back in his Gladstone bag. ‘What’s the first thing you’ll do once you’ve been released?’

‘Treat you to a slap-up meal at the Savoy, with a good bottle of wine, as I won’t be ending the evening back in my cell.’

‘I’ll look forward to that,’ said Booth Watson, knowing that if he could get Miles to sign the agreement, he needn’t bother to book their usual table at the Savoy – for the next fourteen years.





CHAPTER 12





FAULKNER USED THE DAILY EXERCISE break productively.

Tulip had fixed a meeting with the one person who could make it happen. Reggie the pimp, sentenced to five years for importuning young boys for personal gain.

‘How can I be of assistance, Mr Faulkner?’ Reggie asked as they strolled around the exercise yard together. Two heavily built prisoners in front of them, and a couple more a few paces behind, ensured that the boss wasn’t interrupted.

‘I need a male prostitute for Friday evening,’ said Faulkner. ‘He has to be all things bright and beautiful.’

‘It will be quite difficult to smuggle one into the prison, Mr Faulkner, even with your contacts.’

‘Not for me, moron. It’s for my wife.’

‘Sorry, guv, misunderstood you. So what will my boy be expected to do?’

‘My wife always goes to Tramp on Friday evening, hoping to pick up someone she can later take home. I need one of your more experienced lotharios to oblige, and make sure he gets invited back for the night.’

‘I know someone she won’t be able to resist,’ said Reggie. ‘Goes by the name of Sebastian.’

‘That’s the beautiful part,’ said Miles. ‘Now for the bright bit, which could prove more of a challenge. If he’s done the first part of his job properly, he’ll have to stay put until she falls asleep. That’s when he’ll really start to earn his money. Somewhere in my wife’s apartment will be two black Tumi suitcases. They’ll be fairly large, so they shouldn’t be difficult to locate. Once he’s got them, he’ll find a man waiting outside the apartment to pick them up. So, what’s the damage?’

‘Shall we say a couple of grand, Mr Faulkner?’

Faulkner nodded and the two men shook hands – the only way of closing a deal in prison, and heaven help anyone who even thought about breaking the unwritten contract.

‘Consider it done,’ said Reggie as the five-minute hooter blasted, the sign that the prisoners should return to their cells. ‘Dare I ask what’s in them suitcases?’ he asked, as they left the yard.

‘No,’ said Faulkner. ‘But if your boy fails to hand them over, don’t even think about going into a shower on your own.’

? ? ?

Booth Watson waited for his secretary to leave the room before he looked up the private number and began dialling.

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

‘It’s Booth Watson, Julian. Just wanted to let you know I’ve consulted my client and, to my surprise, he has agreed to your terms.’

‘He’s willing to plead guilty to all the charges in exchange for two years being knocked off his sentence?’ said Sir Julian, but didn’t add, I don’t believe you.

‘I advised him against it, of course, which won’t surprise you.’

Sir Julian was surprised, but kept his counsel.

‘I did everything in my power to dissuade him, but he’d already made up his mind.’ One sentence too many – that only convinced Sir Julian that Booth Watson wasn’t telling the truth. ‘So, if you’ll go ahead and draw up an agreement, I’ll arrange for him to sign it. Pity,’ Booth Watson added. ‘I was looking forward to crossing swords with you again.’

That much Sir Julian did believe.

‘I’ll come back to you,’ he said, ‘as soon as the CPS have given their seal of approval.’

‘I look forward to hearing from you, Julian. We must have lunch sometime. The Savoy, perhaps.’

Another unnecessary sentence that gave the game away, thought Sir Julian as his secretary entered the room.

‘Tell me, Miss Weeden, am I dreaming?’ he asked as he put the phone down.

‘I don’t think so, Sir Julian,’ said his secretary, looking puzzled.

‘In which case, please ask Ms Warwick and Ms Sutton to join me immediately for an urgent consultation.’

? ? ?

‘Mrs Faulkner and I will be coming out of the bank at around five o’clock,’ said Booth Watson. ‘She’ll have two large suitcases with her, which no doubt her chauffeur will place in the boot of the car, a dark blue Mercedes J423 ABN.’ Lamont made a note. ‘As all the banks will have closed for the day, she’s likely to be driven straight home.’

‘What if the chauffeur just drops her off, and she leaves the bags in the boot of the car for him to take care of?’

‘Unlikely. I don’t think Mrs Faulkner will be willing to let the money out of her sight. She won’t feel safe until it’s inside her apartment.’