Nothing Ventured(26)

William looked at his watch. “I ought to be going.”

“Understood, but first, tell me how your social life is, because your mother’s bound to ask.”

“A little more promising. I’ve met someone who I think’s a bit special. In fact I’m seeing her again tonight.”

“Can I tell your mother?”

“Please don’t say a word, otherwise she’ll want to invite us both to lunch on Sunday, and I haven’t prepared Beth for that particular ordeal yet.”

“Mum’s the word,” said Sir Julian, laughing at his own feeble pun.

As they left the dining room, William couldn’t resist taking another glance at Booth Watson, who was digging into the treacle tart.

“Good to see you, my boy,” said Sir Julian as they stepped out into the courtyard.

“You too, Father.” William smiled as he watched his father striding away. How much he owed him.





10


The first thing William did when he arrived back at the Yard was to brief the boss on his meeting with Appleyard.

“There was only one piece of information he supplied that just might prove useful,” said Lamont. “Did you spot it?”

“The tattoo?”

“In one. Because if you find Angie, she could lead us to the mystery buyer.”

“But all we’ve got to go on is a tattoo.”

“Which may be enough.”

“Why?”

“Think like a criminal, laddie, and not like a choirboy,” said Lamont, leaning back in his chair.

“Pentonville,” said William after a brief silence.

“You’re on the right track. But who do you need to speak to at Pentonville?”

“The governor?”

“No. Too senior for what we need.”

William looked lost, and once again had to wait for Lamont to come to his rescue.

“You told me Appleyard was only in Pentonville for three weeks before being transferred to Ford Open.”

“Yes, sir.”

“During that time he would have been entitled to three prison visits. So you need to find out if anyone called Angie visited someone at Pentonville while Appleyard was there. If she did, they’ll have her details on file.”

“We’ve also got to hope that she’s still his girlfriend.”

“That shouldn’t be a problem. A tattoo to a con is like a ring to you and me. It’s a commitment, and, let’s face it, it’s all we’ve got to go on. Have a word with the senior officer in charge of visits. His name is Leslie Rose. Sir to you. Make sure you pass on my best wishes.”

William returned to his desk and looked up the number for the visits officer at HMP Pentonville. When the phone was answered, a stentorian voice barked, “Rose.”

“Good afternoon, sir. My name is DC Warwick, and I’m ringing at the suggestion of my boss, Detective Chief Inspector Lamont.”

“A complete wanker.”

“I beg your pardon, sir?”

“Any idiot who believes Arsenal can win the Cup is a complete wanker. What can I do for you, detective constable?”

“In 1981, you had a prisoner called Appleyard at Pentonville. Ken Appleyard. He was only with you for three weeks, between April the ninth and the thirtieth, before he was shipped out to Ford.”

“What about him?”

“During his stay, another prisoner, whose name he can’t remember—”

“Or doesn’t want to.”

“—may have had a visit from his girlfriend, who we know was called Angie.”

“What makes you so sure of that?”

“Appleyard recalls seeing a tattoo on the man’s right arm. A red heart with the name Angie scrolled across it.”

“A nice piece of detective work, young man. The odds aren’t great, but I’ll get back to you.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Pass on my regards to Bruce. Tell him he has no hope on Saturday.”

“No hope of what, sir?”

“Arsenal beating Spurs.”

“So presumably you support Tottenham Hotspur?”

“I see the Yard is still only recruiting the brightest and the best. So who do you support?”

“Fulham, sir. And I should point out that you haven’t beaten us recently.”

“And I should point out, constable, that that might just be because we haven’t played you for several years, and we’re unlikely to do so while you languish in the second division.” The phone began to purr.

William spent the rest of the afternoon writing up his report on the meeting with Appleyard and his telephone conversation with SO Rose at Pentonville. He decided to leave out the expletives and the Arsenal references, before he dropped a sanitized version on DCI Lamont’s desk just after 5:30.

William planned on slipping away just before six, so he wouldn’t be late for Tim Knox’s postponed lecture at the Fitzmolean, and supper afterward with Beth.

He was just about to leave when the phone rang. Jackie picked it up.

“It’s for you, Bill,” she said, transferring the call to William’s desk. He smiled, expecting to hear SO Rose’s cheerful voice on the other end of the line.