Next in Line (William Warwick, #5)(65)

‘That’s never worried you in the past,’ teased Beth as the batsman who’d scored a half-century left the field to cries of ‘Well played, sir,’ ‘Bravo,’ and ‘Fine innings!’

‘I hadn’t realized,’ Beth went on, ‘that all the contacts and knowledge I’ve acquired over the past ten years could be turned into a profit. What’s more, I’m more relaxed and have more spare time to spend with the children.’

‘What’s that called?’ asked Christina as a ball soared high over the boundary rope and the crowd cheered loudly.

‘It’s a six,’ said Beth. ‘They happen quite regularly when William puts himself on to bowl. The truth is, I’ve made more in the last three months than a police superintendent earns in a year.’

‘Don’t tell William,’ said Christina.

Beth decided this wasn’t the time to tell Christina that she told her husband everything. ‘Time for tea,’ was all she said. ‘And don’t even think of stealing the sandwiches,’ she added as they joined William, the two teams and their guests in the tea tent, although she feared Christina was more likely to try and steal one of the younger players.

‘Are you winning?’ Beth asked when William offered her a cucumber sandwich.

‘No idea. You often can’t tell who’s going to win until the last ball of the day, which is part of the game’s charm.’

‘You should be able to knock off the hundred and sixty-three needed to win the match,’ said the commander as he poured himself a cup of tea.

‘It’s a fairly challenging score,’ said William. ‘We’ll need to bat well.’

‘It would have been a lot less challenging if you hadn’t put yourself on to bowl,’ said Beth.

‘I remain confident,’ said William, ignoring the jest, ‘that’s assuming Paul gets his usual fifty.’ He looked across the tent to see his opening batsman chatting to Christina.

‘You’d better go and rescue the poor fellow,’ said Beth when she spotted Paul being woven into her web, ‘or he might never reach the crease.’

William strolled across to join Paul, who couldn’t take his eyes off the forbidden fruit. ‘Get your pads on, Paul, you’re opening the batting.’

‘But I usually bat four or five, skipper,’ he protested.

‘Not today you don’t. You and Ross will be opening.’

Paul reluctantly left them to go and pad up. ‘See you later?’ said Christina.

‘Much later, I hope,’ murmured William.

‘Whatever do you mean, William?’ asked Christina, unable to hide a smirk.

‘I need my best batsman to keep his eye on the ball, not on you. If you want to help, try and pick up that chap over there,’ he said, pointing to a large, beer-bellied man scoffing a cream cake.

‘Why him?’

‘He’s their opening bowler. Known as the dirty demon, so do your worst,’ he said, before walking off.

‘Not my type,’ said Christina as she watched Paul putting on his pads.

? ? ?

Lamont stood in line at the visitors’ shop. When he reached the front, he selected two KitKats and a carton of fresh orange juice. He handed over the two-pound voucher he’d obtained in exchange for cash at the reception desk before he entered the jail.

At the appointed hour, he joined a large group of wives, children and assorted criminals who were being escorted to the visitors’ room, and received a plastic disc with the number 18 on it, indicating the table he’d been allocated.

He sat down in the blue chair, and waited, and waited, and waited. Nothing moves quickly in prison, unless there’s a riot.

Eventually, prisoner 0249 appeared and sat down in the red seat opposite him.

‘Before you speak,’ said Lamont, ‘just checking that you know half the officers watching us from the gallery are there with the single purpose of checking to see if anything passes between visitors and the prisoners. Drugs, knives, and I remember on one occasion even a gun, when the visitor ended up with an even longer sentence than the prisoner he was visiting.’

‘And the other half?’ said Miles.

‘Far more dangerous,’ said Lamont as Miles tore the wrapper off his KitKat and continued to listen. ‘Trained lip-readers. They’ve helped solve several crimes even before they were committed just from the information they picked up during visits. You’ll have to play the part of a ventriloquist unless you want our conversation to be repeated word for word to Commander Hawksby.’

‘I’ve been wondering how to get a message to Hawksby,’ said Miles, barely moving his lips. He glanced up at the gallery and quickly spotted the officer who’d been allocated his table, before looking across to the other side where he saw his opposite number. He intended to make sure they spent a wasted hour.

‘I asked to see you because I know you do the occasional job for Booth Watson,’ said Miles, quickly discovering that Bs were a problem.

‘I do,’ said Lamont. Two words that could be said without moving your lips.

‘How much does he pay you?’

‘Twenty pounds an hour,’ said Lamont.

‘He can’t even tell me the truth about that,’ said Miles. ‘From now on, you’ll be paid double. But under no circumstances is he to find out you’re also working for me. Is that understood?’