Over My Dead Body (Detective William Warwick #4)(43)

However, the triumph of the week had been his monthly meeting with Christina Faulkner, when she’d told him that the Fitzmolean had been approached by a Lord McLaren, who’d recently inherited not only his title, but also the death duties that went with it. As a result, he had been left with no choice but to sell his treasured Caravaggio, which he was hoping would fetch at least twenty million. Booth Watson would need to have a word with another of his ‘special consultants’ who worked in the tax office.

This could well be a golden opportunity to extract a percentage from both sides, as long as he was able to convince Miles to allow him to act as the go-between. He’d make sure his client was well aware how foolish it would be for him to visit Scotland to view the painting, however great the temptation.

Booth Watson was looking forward to his next trip to Barcelona; so much to report that would once again make him look indispensable.

He locked the updated file in his Miles Faulkner cabinet, which even his secretary didn’t have a key to.





CHAPTER 14


‘RIGHT, WHO’S GOING TO KICK off?’ asked the commander. A hand shot up, and The Hawk nodded.

‘I had another meeting with Lamont on Friday evening,’ said Jackie.

‘Where?’ asked William.

‘A little pub behind King’s Cross station that neither the police nor any self-respecting criminal would consider frequenting.’

‘Do you think he suspects which side you’re on?’

‘I don’t think so. I ended up getting pissed and he had to drive me home.’

The rest of the team laughed.

‘Mind you,’ she continued, ‘I’d discreetly emptied most of my double gins into a flowerpot behind me. I’m only surprised the poor plant survived the evening.’

‘By which time,’ said William, ‘I assume you’d casually let slip what we’ve been up to.’

‘No more than you wanted him to know. I told him about the five cold cases we’re working on, but left enough spaces for him to fill in before he made his next report to Booth Watson.’

‘Who will in turn pass the information on to his esteemed former clients, which will give them something to think about while they also hand over hefty fees for his services,’ said William.

‘Don’t underestimate Lamont,’ The Hawk chipped in. ‘If he thought for one moment that you’re setting him up, he’d not only report back to Booth Watson but turn it to his advantage. Who’s next?’

‘I’ve begun in-depth investigations into both the Roach and Abbott families,’ said Ross, ‘and what a right bunch of villains they turn out to be. Every family member has a specific role within the organization. Terry Roach and Ron Abbott are responsible for eliminating anyone who gets in their way. If Abbott was ever found guilty of murder, he could ask the judge to take at least five other cases into consideration. He’s quite simply a professional hitman, and because his family is so feared in the East End, no witnesses are ever willing to come forward while they think they could be next in line.’

‘That bad?’ said William.

‘Roach is even worse,’ continued Ross. ‘Abbott kills his victims with a single shot from a long-range rifle. But Roach’s weapon of choice is a serrated kitchen knife. He’s known as “the butcher”, and considers death by a thousand cuts would be letting his victim off lightly. It’s his calling card just in case anyone else should consider crossing the Roach family. He’s been in and out of jail several times, but, thanks to Booth Watson, the longest sentence he’s ever served is two years for GBH. So, while we don’t have a budget stretched to a dozen highly trained officers watching him around the clock, he’ll continue to get away with it. I have one or two ideas I’m working on, but it’s too early to share them with you.’

‘Understood,’ said William. ‘But if you could nail even one of them, Ross, it would be a feather in your cap.’

‘Do you know where that saying originates?’ interrupted Paul.

‘Yes, I do,’ said William. ‘But this isn’t the time to be discussing an ancient English custom that when a warrior had slain a foe in battle, he was allowed to wear a feather in his cap, which was later superseded by the award of medals. There are no awards for sprained ankles, DS Adaja, so may I suggest you get on with your report?’

‘My loan shark, Max Sleeman,’ said a chastened Paul, ‘is still lending large sums of money to desperate people and resorting to violent measures if they fall behind with their payments. As you know, three of his customers have disappeared off the face of the earth after failing to cover their debts, which he later claimed from their estates. Another painful reminder to any other customers of what would happen to them should they fail to honour their unwritten contracts. But I think I may have come up with a way of not only sending Sleeman down, but bankrupting him at the same time. It’s known as the Capone solution.’

‘Tax avoidance?’ said William.

‘I think I can prove he’s been avoiding paying any tax for years. A recent case in the high court resulted in a six-year sentence, but even more important, under the Tax Avoidance Act of 1986, the judge can award a fine of up to five times the amount the Revenue should have received. So not only would Sleeman end up in jail, but he’d be penniless, because the court could strip him of all his assets. A punishment to fit the crime, don’t you think?’ said Paul, looking rather pleased with himself.