Over My Dead Body

Chapter 18

‘Isn’t she gorgeous?’ said Beth, when the bride and groom entered the room and she saw Josephine for the first time.

‘And Ross is clearly besotted with her,’ said William.

‘Wouldn’t you be?’

‘I resigned myself to the fact some time ago that I’m stuck with you. A poor virgin, sir, an ill-favoured thing, sir...’

‘But mine own,’ said Beth, ‘All’s Well.’

‘No, As You Like It.’

‘Your problem, is that you’re semi-educated.’

‘And your problem—’

‘Shh,’ said Beth as Ross and Jo took their places in front of the registrar.

‘Welcome to Marylebone Old Town Hall,’ said the registrar, addressing the assembled gathering.

‘I don’t think I’ll ever get used to a woman performing the marriage service,’ whispered Beth.

‘You’re so wonderfully old-fashioned,’ said William, taking her hand.

‘Which is how I ended up with you, caveman.’

‘I have the pleasure of conducting this marriage service between Ross and Jo,’ continued the registrar. ‘I should begin by pointing out that the commitment they will make to each other today is for the rest of their lives, and just as morally and legally binding as any pledge taken in a church. So, let us begin the service.’

William had never seen Ross looking so relaxed and happy. The fashionable new suit, white shirt and even the cufflinks, complemented by a red carnation in his buttonhole, would have come as a surprise to the denizens of the underworld among whom he had mingled for so many years. None of whom had been invited to the wedding.

When the registrar solemnly asked, ‘If any person present knows of any lawful impediment to this marriage, he or she should declare it now,’ Beth gripped William’s hand. He knew she was remembering how Miles Faulkner had crudely attempted to ruin their wedding day, and how Christina had come to their rescue.

No one raised a voice on this occasion.

William couldn’t resist a smile as they took their vows. He still hadn’t got used to one of the toughest men he’d ever come across being so hopelessly in love.

A warm round of applause broke out when the registrar announced, ‘It gives me great pleasure to declare that you are now legally married. You may kiss the bride.’

Mr and Mrs Hogan kissed each other for the first time.

‘I’m hungry,’ whispered William.

‘Patience. We’ve been invited to lunch at the Marylebone Hotel after the service.’

‘I can’t wait. I haven’t had a good meal for weeks.’

Beth kicked him sharply on the ankle and he let out an exaggerated yelp.

The wedding party followed the bride and groom out of the room, down the Old Town Hall steps and onto the pavement. William held Beth’s hand as they crossed Marylebone Road and headed for the hotel.

A man seated at the bus stop on the opposite side of the road was writing down the names of everyone he recognized. Only three of the guests were unknown to him. He took a closer look at the bride and groom, and wondered if Hogan realized he’d married a call girl. In any case, he’d be informing his employer immediately that the overpaid tart could no longer be relied on. Then he spotted DS Roycroft. Was she also no longer to be trusted? Had the information she’d been passing on to him already been vetted by Warwick? He’d have to assume the worst, while trying to turn it to his advantage. He would place the blame for any false information on the whore, and then take credit for exposing her. That would guarantee he didn’t lose his only source of income.

Lamont didn’t move as the wedding party drifted in the direction of a nearby hotel. Once they were all out of sight, he stepped inside the nearest phone box, dialled a number and waited.

‘Fetter Lane chambers,’ said a voice on the other end of the line. ‘How may I help you?’

‘I need to speak to Mr Booth Watson — urgently.’

‘What a spread,’ said William, joining the queue at the buffet table.

‘Remember you’re trying to lose a couple of pounds,’ said Beth.

William ignored her protestations and piled his plate with coronation chicken, tomatoes and salad, before moving on to the other end of the table, where he filled any empty spaces with ham, cheese and new potatoes.

‘You may drag a man out of his cave,’ sighed Beth, ‘but however hard you try to improve him, he’ll always be a caveman.’ She took a sliver of smoked salmon, half a boiled egg and a little salad, before strolling across to join Paul, who was chatting to the bride. His plate resembled an even larger mountain.

‘This is Beth Warwick, William’s wife,’ said Paul between mouthfuls.

‘Ross speaks so highly of your husband,’ said Jo. ‘But as I’m sure you already know he was always happiest working undercover. Otherwise he would never have considered leaving the force.’

‘William’s the exact opposite,’ said Beth. ‘He had a short time working undercover, but couldn’t wait to get back to the Yard and be reunited with the team.’

‘That’s why they made such a good partnership,’ said Paul.

‘Am I allowed to ask where you’re going on honeymoon?’ said Beth.

‘Ross offered me four choices,’ replied Jo. ‘Any one of the three Nightmare Holidays or touring the Loire valley vineyards, sampling their finest wines and enjoying the delicious local cuisine, before ending up in Paris for a long weekend at the Ritz Carlton.’

‘You must have had to think long and hard about that,’ said Beth.

‘About a nanosecond,’ admitted Jo. ‘However, once we get back, Ross intends to experience all that Nightmare Holidays have to offer while I stay at home and make sure everything’s ready for Josephine... or Joseph.’

‘He invited me to join him on an “Unpleasant” holiday,’ said Paul, ‘but sadly none of the dates quite fitted in with my busy diary.’

They all laughed, as Beth glanced across the room to see an older woman deep in conversation with the commander.

‘I must admit, I never thought my son would get married,’ she was saying. ‘So this all came as a complete surprise.’

‘A pleasant one, I hope, Mrs Hogan,’ said The Hawk. ‘You can be very proud of your son, and I’m sorry we’re losing him.’

‘Praise indeed, commander. But as a good Roman Catholic, you can’t have failed to notice that they’ve got married just in time,’ said Mrs Hogan, glancing in the direction of her daughter-in-law.

‘I fear I’m a lapsed Catholic,’ the commander replied.

‘Lapsed enough not to be concerned about her previous profession?’

The commander couldn’t think of a suitable reply.

‘Who’s that chatting to William?’ asked Jackie, as she joined Paul in the queue for a second helping.

‘Major Cormac Kinsella. Ross’s new boss. He’s completely bonkers, so Ross should feel at home,’ added Paul, as he grabbed the last chicken leg.

‘When does Ross join you?’ asked William.

‘First of the month,’ said Major Kinsella. ‘So you’ll only have him for a couple more weeks after he gets back from his honeymoon.’

‘Couldn’t be better timing,’ said William. ‘We have one last assignment that can’t go ahead without him.’

‘Dare I ask?’ said Kinsella. ‘Ross refuses to tell me anything about what he gets up to at the Yard.’

‘Neither will I,’ said William. ‘If I did, I’d lose my job.’

‘Should that happen,’ said Kinsella, taking a card from an inside pocket and presenting it to William, ‘please get in touch.’

‘Why would he want to do that?’ asked Beth, as she appeared by William’s side.

‘We’re most fortunate to have Ross joining us as the senior ground operative, Mrs Warwick,’ said Kinsella, ‘but it won’t be long before I’ll be looking for a new managing director to take my place. Frankly, I think your husband would be the ideal person to take the company on to its next stage.’

‘What can there possibly be beyond “Unbearable”?’

‘A salary of eighty thousand pounds a year, shares in the company and a percentage of the profits.’

‘And what makes you think I’d be the right man for the job?’ asked William. ‘After all, you’ve only known me for ten minutes.’

‘I know that you’re the youngest DCI in the Met’s history, and in Ross’s opinion you’re the finest officer he’s ever served under. Frankly, I’d made the decision even before I met you.’

‘Better not tell the commander,’ said Beth.

‘Better not tell me what?’ demanded The Hawk, as he walked across to join them.

‘Major Kinsella has just offered William a job,’ Beth answered with relish.

‘Over my dead body,’ said Hawksby.

‘Whatever it takes,’ said Kinsella, grinning.

‘And I’ll do whatever it takes to stop you,’ said The Hawk. ‘I have higher things planned for DCI Warwick, and they don’t include running a holiday camp. What’s more, I’ll happily murder anyone who gets in my way.’

‘Don’t the Gospels tell us that the thought of murder is every bit as bad as the deed,’ said Beth, trying to lighten the mood.

‘If that’s the case,’ said the commander, ‘I’ll have to ask our Lord to take about fifty other cases into consideration. And, frankly, you’re not even top of my current list,’ he said, glowering at the major.

William smiled, but then he knew exactly who was top of the commander’s current list.

‘And in any case,’ continued The Hawk, ‘I will also be retiring in the not-too-distant future, and someone’s going to have to take my place.’

This silenced even Beth, while William was distracted by a voice whispering in his ear, ‘Can I have a word with you before we leave for the airport?’

‘Of course,’ said William, leaving the commander to continue jousting with Major Kinsella.

‘Will I be back in time for the big one?’ asked Ross, once he was confident no one could overhear them.

‘I’ve delayed everything by a week to make sure you are. I don’t want to start this particular operation without you.’

‘How did the specialised movers feel about the Yard joining them for the trip?’

‘Not overjoyed, but they kept their counsel after The Hawk reminded them that most of their contracts have to be sanctioned by the government. They were still a bit bolshie for a few days, until the Home Secretary called their chairman. Not a long conversation, I’m told.’

‘I can’t wait,’ said Ross.

‘Don’t let Jo hear you saying that,’ said William, ‘because I know she has other plans for you during the next ten days. So be sure to relax and enjoy your honeymoon. I’m going to need you at your sharpest when you return if we’re going to pull off the biggest operation I’ve ever been involved in.’

‘Bigger than Trojan Horse?’ said Ross.

‘That was the commander’s operation. Masterpiece is mine.’

Ross spent the next week roaming around the Loire valley, sipping the finest wines, while not being allowed to empty his glass, then devouring several courses of nouvelle cuisine before going to bed feeling hungry. He spent the last three days of the honeymoon enjoying the sights of Paris, unaware that it wouldn’t be long before he returned. He still managed a five-mile run every morning before joining Jo for a breakfast of croissant and coffee. Breakfast, he reflected, was clearly a meal the French hadn’t come to terms with. In his absence, DCI Warwick and the commander spent the time fine-tuning every last detail of an operation that would require split-second timing.

By the time a suntanned Ross returned to work the following Monday morning, everything was in place, awaiting only the commissioner’s imprimatur.

‘If we pull this one off,’ said Ross, after he and William had gone over the plan one last time, ‘I’ll leave the force a happy man. And not just because you won’t be my boss any longer,’ he added, laughing.

‘If we fail,’ said William, not laughing, ‘I’ll also be leaving the force, but I’ll still be your boss.’