Next in Line (William Warwick, #5)(60)

William got back in time to help bath the children. Before she had a chance to tell him her news, he said, ‘Milner, Reynolds and Jennings have all handed in their resignations. The Commissioner was relieved he wouldn’t have to tell the Prince of Wales the real reason he’d had to let them go.’

‘I resigned today too,’ said Beth. She paused before adding, ‘Sloane couldn’t hide his delight.’

William took her in his arms. ‘I’m so sorry, my darling, I didn’t realize …’

Artemisia threw her soap out of the bath, clearly feeling she wasn’t getting enough attention.

‘Not only have I lost my job,’ said Beth as she picked up the soap, ‘but I’ve risked every penny I have on a drawing that might turn out to be worthless. So please tell me some good news!’ she added as William scooped Artemisia out of the bath.

‘Paul Adaja has been made up to Inspector, and Constable Smart will finally—’

‘—become a Royalty Protection officer?’

‘Not much gets past you,’ smiled William.

‘Christina did. When will I realize you can’t believe a word that woman says?’

The phone on the landing began to ring. William dropped the towel on the floor and went to answer it, while Beth tucked the children up in bed. She was about to read to them when William returned.

‘It’s for you. Long distance. Lot seventy-one will be coming up in a few minutes’ time,’ he said, before settling down on the end of the bed. ‘What page are you on?’

‘A hundred and forty-three,’ said Artemisia. ‘Peter and the Lost Boys are surrounded by bloodthirsty pirates!’

‘I know the feeling!’ said William as Beth quickly left the room.

Fifteen minutes later, William closed the book, having decided he rather liked Captain Hook, whom he considered a great improvement on both Milner and Sloane. He switched off the light and joined Beth on the landing.

‘No, don’t send it to the Fitzmolean,’ she said, before giving the auction house her home address. She put the phone down and turned to William. ‘I’ve just spent four hundred and twenty dollars I don’t have.’

‘Not a problem,’ said William. ‘I’ve been temporarily made up to Superintendent on full salary, while Milner goes on gardening leave – and he has a large garden.’

‘Trouble is, I will need even more if I’m going to make a go of my new business.’

‘Then I’ll just have to open a taxi service … in Windsor.’





CHAPTER 23





THE ONLY QUALIFICATION FOR THE job of librarian in any prison was the ability to read and write. You worked in a large warm room all day, weren’t bothered by too many inmates, and if you didn’t look out of the window, you wouldn’t even know you were in a prison.

Most inmates preferred to work in the kitchen, some in the gym, and a few as wing cleaners. However, the position of chief librarian suited all of Miles Faulkner’s immediate requirements.

He was also able to select his deputy, and he chose someone whose reading and writing skills wouldn’t have made him an obvious candidate for the job.

Faulkner was reading Lex in the Financial Times when Tulip returned from his morning round collecting overdue books from the cells. This gave him the opportunity to drop in on any prisoner Faulkner needed to do business with, and ensured he remained the best-informed person in the jail, including the governor.

Mansour Khalifah never visited the library, so Tulip had to rely on Tareq Omar, his wing cleaner, to pass on any information that might prove useful. Until now, nothing worthwhile had come his way, other than that Khalifah was planning something big, but Tulip still had no idea what. But that morning he rushed back to the library to report a breakthrough to his boss.

Faulkner put down his paper, switched on the kettle and settled back in the most comfortable chair in the prison to listen to Tulip’s news. He didn’t press his deputy to get to the point, as neither of them had a great deal to do for the rest of the day.

‘It may have been a long wait, boss,’ began Tulip, ‘but Omar’s finally come up with the goods.’ The kettle whistled, and Tulip got up from the second-most comfortable chair in the prison and poured two mugs of coffee. Faulkner added one lump of sugar but no milk to his, and extracted a single biscuit from a packet of shortbread. Not because they were in short supply, but because he was hoping to lose a stone before he was released.

‘Omar,’ Tulip continued after taking a sip, ‘has managed to convince Khalifah he’s a True Believer.’

Faulkner leant back and closed his eyes, storing every detail in his notebook mind.

‘You were right, boss, Khalifah is planning something big.’ Tulip took another sip of coffee. It was still too hot. ‘The Albert Hall,’ he announced triumphantly.

‘What about the Albert Hall?’

‘It seems that every year there’s a series of concerts held there called the Proms—’

‘Tell me something I don’t know.’

‘The Last Night of the Proms is always sold out months in advance.’

‘Get on with it,’ said Miles, sounding irritated for the first time.

‘But did you know they remove all the stalls seats for a group of fans known as the promenaders, who stand throughout the entire concert?’ Faulkner nodded, waiting for Tulip to turn the page. ‘One of Khalifah’s contacts on the outside has got hold of a scalper’s ticket, and paid way over the top.’