Next In Line

Chapter 5

The walls of the legal consultation room at Belmarsh prison were made of glass. The table in the centre was fixed to the floor, and also made of glass. The white plastic chairs were screwed to the floor in order to ensure that the prisoner and his legal adviser remained at arm’s length. The guards might not be able to hear what was being said inside, but they could watch every movement that took place during the designated hour, including any attempts to pass drugs, contraband or even weapons to an inmate.

Booth Watson turned up unusually early at the prison gates that morning, and not just because he hadn’t slept for the past thirty-six hours. After he’d been searched and his Gladstone bag, crammed with legal papers, had been rifled through, he signed the inevitable release form before being escorted by a senior officer to the interview wing. Neither of them spoke. They despised each other.

As they approached the glass cage, Booth Watson could see that his client, dressed in regulation blue and white striped prison shirt and well-worn jeans, was already seated at the glass table waiting for him. He could read nothing from the sphinx-like expression on his face.

Miles stood up as Booth Watson entered the room and, although they were not allowed to shake hands, greeted him with the suggestion of a smile.

Booth Watson felt himself relaxing for the first time in days. ‘As we only have an hour, Miles,’ he said, taking off his Rolex watch and placing it on the table between them, ‘we haven’t a moment to waste.’ Faulkner nodded as he sat down. ‘I’ll begin by bringing you up to date with everything that has taken place since I last saw you.’ The QC bent down and took several files from his bag.

‘I flew to Barcelona for our monthly consultation, only to discover you’d already been arrested and brought back to London against your will, on your own jet.’

‘I presume it was Collins who told you?’

‘No,’ said Booth Watson, who had anticipated the question. ‘It was your Spanish lawyer, Señora Martinez. She briefed me fully on what Warwick and Hogan had been up to before I arrived.’

Booth Watson removed a single document from one of the files in front of him before continuing. ‘Señora Martinez has already filed an official complaint with the Spanish authorities, because depriving a citizen of their freedom without a trial is against the 1953 European Convention on Human Rights.’

‘A fat lot of good that will do me,’ said Miles.

‘Normally I would agree with you,’ replied Booth Watson, ‘but this allows us to request that Lieutenant Sanchez of the Spanish national police attend any forthcoming trial and explain to the court why he didn’t take charge of the case, but allowed DCI Warwick to assume command.’

‘That shouldn’t have taken you more than a few hours to find out, so why didn’t you return to London the next day?’

Another question Booth Watson was fully prepared for.

‘I made the decision to remain in Barcelona and gather as much information as possible to assist your case, before coming back to England.’

Faulkner didn’t look convinced.

‘Information that will not only make the possibility of an early release more likely, but also leave the police with little choice but to arrest both Warwick and Hogan, and charge them with kidnapping and theft.’

Faulkner smiled for the first time.

‘Once I’d gathered all the information I needed, I flew back to London and immediately applied to the CPS for an emergency consultation with my client, which they rejected out of hand.’

‘Why?’ demanded Faulkner.

‘I can’t prove it, but I suspect that once they realized two of the Met’s most senior officers were themselves in danger of being arrested, they did everything in their power to prevent me from seeing you. But I persisted, until they finally granted me a one-hour consultation this morning, so we can’t afford to waste another minute.’

Booth Watson looked up at Miles, but had no way of knowing if he believed him. ‘However, before I can proceed, I have to ask if you still wish me to continue as your legal representative?’

‘Why do you ask?’ said Faulkner, sounding even more suspicious.

‘Because since your escape from Belmarsh two years ago, I haven’t seen you — or at least that’s what I told the CPS when they questioned me about our relationship earlier in the week.’

A few moments passed before Faulkner realized the significance of what Booth Watson had just told him. ‘That must have taken a lot of shredding,’ he said.

‘Burning is more effective now the police have a machine that can put the pieces back together. However, if I am to remain your counsel, you will have to confirm that is the case,’ said Booth Watson, extracting another sheet of paper from one of the files. ‘I have prepared the necessary statement.’

Faulkner read the document carefully. ‘And if I don’t?’ he asked, a touch of menace creeping into his voice.

‘We’ll both be looking for a legal representative.’

Faulkner waved a hand, accepted the proffered gold pen and signed on the dotted line.

‘What about Christina?’ he asked, slipping the pen into his pocket. ‘She could blow both our stories apart.’

‘I’ve already briefed her on the consequences of doing anything quite so foolish, and we’ve come to what I would describe as an understanding.’

‘How much is this understanding going to cost me?’

‘Ten million.’

‘That sounds excessive,’ growled Faulkner.

‘Not if you read the sub-clauses attached to the contract that should ensure your present sentence isn’t doubled.’

‘How can you possibly prevent that?’

‘Neither the police nor the CPS will want Warwick or Hogan to appear in the witness box and have to admit the extremes they went to to bring you back to England. It’s far too much of a risk for them.’

‘I’m all ears,’ said Miles.

‘Firstly, Warwick would have to explain, under oath, why he abducted you from your home in Spain without the Spanish government’s authority, then flew you back to London against your express wishes.’

‘How can I prove I didn’t come back to London of my own free will? After all, Warwick will point out it was my own plane.’

‘Your pilot will confirm that when you arrived in London, Warwick and Hogan literally dragged you off the plane and threw you into the back of a waiting police car, despite his attempts to prevent them. It will become even more embarrassing for the police when I point out that no effort was made to have you held in Spain while they progressed through the official channels to obtain an extradition order, which ironically your Spanish lawyer, Señora Martinez, believes the authorities would have readily granted.’

A nod and a smile greeted this statement.

‘Secondly, and equally damning, I shall ask Warwick to explain how a valuable self-portrait by a Dutch master disappeared from your home in Spain, only to turn up a few days later on the walls of the Fitzmolean Museum in London. I suspect it was also travelling on the same plane.’

‘Christina will claim that the Hals belongs to her, and she’s loaned it to the museum for their exhibition.’

‘No, she won’t,’ said Booth Watson. ‘Because that’s one of the sub-clauses in her five-million-pound contract.’ He produced another legal document, this one bearing a signature on the last page that Miles immediately recognized. His smile broadened after he’d read that particular clause.

‘What about the rest of my collection? Is it still safely at my home in Spain?’

‘Being looked after by Collins,’ confirmed Booth Watson.

‘A good man, Collins,’ declared Faulkner. ‘See that he gets a bonus. He’s earned it.’

‘Couldn’t agree more,’ said Booth Watson, writing a note with an identical gold pen.

‘So, what happens next?’

‘I will request a sub judice meeting with Sir Julian Warwick, who continues to represent the Crown in your case. I will make it clear to him that it would be unfortunate if the press were to get hold of the real story, which would be embarrassing for the police both here and in Spain, and that given the circumstances it might be wise for him to advise the CPS to drop the latest charges in exchange for you remaining silent.’

‘How do you think the CPS will react to that suggestion?’

‘I don’t think they’ll have a lot of choice, unless they want the story to end up on the front page of every paper with the headline, “Chief Inspector involved in kidnap and burglary”.’

‘And the odds?’ said Miles, cutting to the quick.

‘Better than fifty-fifty, in my opinion. Sir Julian may want to see your sentence doubled, but not at the expense of his only son being locked up in the cell next to you, rather than being promoted, which I hear—’

There was a sharp knock on the door, and a guard poked his head inside the room. ‘Five minutes, sir.’ Booth Watson couldn’t be sure which one of them was being addressed as ‘sir’.

‘Anything else I need to think about before I see you again?’ asked Miles.

‘Yes — I’ve had an offer for your fifty-one per cent shareholding in the Malaysian tea company you purchased from another of my clients.’

‘A drug dealer who’s no longer with us. How much?’

‘Sixteen million.’

‘That must be an opening bid. An export and import company with Marcel and Neffe’s turnover must be worth almost double that.’

‘The shares have dipped since you changed address.’

‘Ask for twenty-four million, and settle for twenty-two,’ said Miles as there was a second rap on the door.

Booth Watson gathered up his papers and put them back in his Gladstone bag, feeling he’d achieved everything he could have hoped for. As he stood up, he said, ‘You are entitled to a private consultation with your legal representative once a week. May I suggest we meet every Friday morning at ten?’

‘Suits me,’ said Miles. ‘I’m not going anywhere for the foreseeable future.’

‘I’m rather hoping to remove the word “foreseeable” and replace it with “near”,’ said Booth Watson, ‘so that we can once again enjoy breakfast together at the Savoy.’

‘Amen to that,’ said Miles.

Booth Watson headed for the door. ‘Thank you, officer,’ he said, standing between them for a moment to allow Miles to pick up the Rolex watch and strap it on his wrist.

The guard accompanied prisoner 0249 back to his cell in A block, while Booth Watson went in the opposite direction and made his way to reception, feeling things couldn’t have worked out much better. However, he knew he would still have to keep a close eye on Christina, to make sure she kept her part of the bargain.