Take Two

CHAPTER 41

Richards had arranged to meet The Mint at a canal-side pub in Maida Vale, north London. The Mint was seeing his mother for lunch and said he’d be at the pub by three. He was waiting in the car park when Richards drove up. Richards parked, climbed out, and hugged his old friend. Murray Wainwright was in his sixties and the two men had known each other for more than twenty years. In a business full of liars, cheats and violent psychopaths, The Mint was one of the few men Richards totally trusted. He had long grey hair tied back in a ponytail, skin tanned from years in the Spanish sun, and pearly white teeth that were the best implants Harley Street could provide. There was a gold Rolex on his left wrist, a chunky gold bracelet on his right and a two gold sovereign rings on his right hand that were as effective as any knuckle duster.

‘Times are hard, are they?’ asked The Mint, looking over at the Porsche.

‘The Bentley, you mean? It was a red rag to a bull for the traffic cops. So many drug dealers drive Bentleys these days, we all get tarred with the same brush.’

‘And they ignore white Porches, that’s the plan?’

‘Don’t knock it if it works.’

‘MPG?’

‘Who the hell knows, Murray? And more to the point, who cares?’ The two men laughed and Richards opened his cigar case and offered it to The Mint. He took one, sniffed it, and bit off the end.

Richards did the same and lit them both before they walked along to the pub and sat at a table on the terrace overlooking the canal.

‘I remember when this was a right dangerous boozer,’ said The Mint. ‘You wouldn’t step in here without a gun in your pocket or a machete down your trouser leg.’

‘Gentrification,’ said Richards. ‘It’s happening all over.’

‘You’re not kidding,’ said The Mint. ‘I bought my mum her flat twenty years ago for a couple of hundred grand and you know what it’s worth now? A million quid. A bloody million. It’s a nice flat, mind, but it’s only got two bedrooms.’ A waiter came over and Richards ordered a bottle of Cristal.

‘I need to do some business,’ said Richards after the waiter had left. ‘I’ve run into a bit of a cash flow problem.’

‘Move to the Costa full time, mate. The Spanish are much easier to deal with.’

‘I need to stay close to the club. And you know I don’t like the sun.’ He leaned towards him. ‘Can you put something together for me? Rush job?’

‘What did you have in mind?’

‘I’ve got seven hundred and fifty grand tucked away for a rainy day. I was figuring we split that into three. You fix me up with three runs, if one gets through I’ll be covering my costs, if all three get through I’ll be a very happy bunny.’

The Mint nodded. ‘I’ve got a supplier in Morocco who’s champing at the bit,’ he said. ‘Do you want to go solo or mob-handed?’

Richards blew a cloud of smoke over the canal. Putting his money together with other investors meant more profits by virtue of economies of scale, but the more people involved the greater the danger that someone would grass them up. ‘I’ll leave that up to you, Murray. You’ve never steered me wrong in the past.’

The waiter returned with a bottle of champagne in an ice bucket and two glasses. He poured a splash into one glass but The Mint waved his ringed hand over the glass. ‘Just pour it, it’ll be fine,’ he said.

They both sipped their champagne until the waiter had left. ‘Is your money in the system or are we talking used notes?’ asked The Mint.

‘It’s in the bank,’ said Richards. ‘Jersey. I’ve put most of my cash through the club over the last few years so it’s all legit. I was planning on leaving it there for the long haul but now I’ve got no choice other than to put it into play.’

‘Good to know,’ said The Mint. ‘I can get you a better rate for bank deposits, you know that.’ He took a pen from his jacket pocket and a business card from his wallet and scribbled down a number. ‘Transfer the money when you’re ready,’ he said.

Richards pocketed the card. ‘You’re a gentlemen and a scholar,’ he said.

‘You okay? Is this cash shortage a problem?’

‘It was a one-off,’ said Richards. ‘I dealt with it but I’m having problems getting the money back.’ He shrugged. ‘I might end up writing it off in which case I’ll be back to see you.’

‘Always happy to help,’ said The Mint. He raised his glass in salute.

Richards clinked his glass against The Mint’s. ‘You’re a lifesaver,’ he said. He drained his glass and looked at his watch. ‘I’m going to have to love you and leave you.’

‘I’ll stay here and enjoy the bubbly,’ said The Mint. ‘But pick up the tab on your way out.’