Turn a Blind Eye

19

‘It’s the pride of the Fitzmolean’s collection,’ said Beth as they both stood there admiring the Vermeer.

‘And it couldn’t have found a better home,’ said Christina. ‘But I have to tell you that since Miles’s death, art dealers and auction houses have been beating a path to my door wanting to know what I intend to do with the rest of the collection.’

‘If you ever decide to sell any of your paintings, we’d be happy to advise you. It’s the least we could do in return for your generosity.’

‘That’s kind of you,’ said Christina, ‘but that’s not why I invited you to lunch.’

‘Monte Carlo?’ asked Beth, raising an eyebrow.

‘Couldn’t have been more perfect,’ purred Christina. ‘Ralph was so kind and considerate, and such good company. Between us girls, the sex isn’t bad either.’

‘Well, I’m pleased for you. William was a little worried that—’

‘Ralph might only be interested in my money?’

Beth looked embarrassed.

‘Why don’t you both come over for dinner one evening, then you can get to know him a little better.’

‘I didn’t mean to imply...’ began Beth. ‘It’s just that William always—’

‘Thinks like a policeman. How is he, by the way?’

‘He’s up to something,’ Beth replied, trying to get off the hook. ‘But I’m not sure what.’

‘Another woman?’ suggested Christina, laughing.

‘Not the way he’s looking at the moment, unless she’s sleeping rough. Are you still thinking of moving to Florida?’ asked Beth, keen to change the subject.

‘I no longer need to. I’ve ended up with the apartment in Mayfair, the villa and a yacht, not to mention a captain who can’t wait to sail her.’

‘You sound quite serious about Ralph.’

‘Yes, I am. He’s changed my whole life. Sinatra was right, love’s much lovelier the second time around. But I’ll tell you everything over lunch,’ Christina said as she linked arms with Beth and they left the gallery together.

He checked his watch: 2.20 p.m. Kick-off at 3.00. Forty thousand fans were all heading in the same direction. The majority were wearing red-and-white scarves, although a large contingent wore blue-and-white. The two rival tribes had only one thing in common: each were convinced they were supporting the winning team.

A lone figure, in a red-and-white scarf, strolled past Arsenal Tube station, as even more supporters poured out onto Gillespie Road. Moments later he was joined by another red-and-white scarf.

‘I’m listening,’ said the commander, to a scruffy-looking young man who might have just been released from prison, rather than being a recently promoted inspector with the Anti-Corruption Unit.

‘If you only consider his record,’ said William, ‘Summers is doing an impressive job. Just a shame he’s as crooked as a corkscrew.’

‘Are he and PC Bailey still an item?’

‘Rebecca certainly thinks so, but who knows how much longer it will last? On Summers’s previous form, she’s well past her sell-by date.’

‘I imagine that like most gamblers, he has a system he considers infallible.’

‘Until he has to double up.’

‘Enlighten me.’

‘There are two major criminal gangs who work out of Romford: the Turners and the Paynes. I’m convinced DS Summers is in the pay of the Turners, not least because half the Payne family are currently locked up in Wormwood Scrubs, while the Turners only make an occasional appearance at the local magistrates’ court, and rarely come away with more than a fine or a suspended sentence,’ William said as Highbury loomed up in front of them and the prejudices of the vast crowd became even more vocal with each stride they took.

‘Is there any chance we could infiltrate the Payne hierarchy, and play Summers at his own game?’ asked the Hawk.

‘They’re a very tight-knit family, and you can be sure there aren’t any coppers on their Christmas card list.’

The Hawk nodded as they passed the main entrance to the stadium, ignoring the turnstiles.

‘However,’ continued William, ‘I have come across one member of the family who has a proper job. Adam Payne works in the Barking and Dagenham Council housing department. He’s married, two children, and considered the black sheep of the family. Which must make things a bit awkward for him, as his father, Reg, heads up the drug racket in Romford, and his brother is a dealer.’

‘Does he keep in touch with any other members of the family?’

‘Only his mother. He visits her every other weekend, when the rest of the tribe can be found at White Hart Lane, supporting Tottenham.’

‘Try and make contact with him, and find out if he’d be willing to pass on a message to his mother requesting a meeting with Reg Payne. It’s a long shot, but worth a try.’

William nodded, but didn’t look convinced.

They’d walked a few more yards before William asked, ‘What are the rest of the team up to in my absence?’

‘Rebecca’s still shadowing Lamont, who seems to be in debt with the bookmakers again, while Jackie’s trying to find out why he’s still in contact with Summers. Everyone outside of the inner team still thinks you’ve been suspended and are preparing for your tribunal.’

‘Should your phantom board find me guilty,’ said William, ‘I’m thinking of joining the Turner gang. Far better pay and shorter hours.’

‘Don’t even joke about it,’ said Hawksby. ‘Because I fear that’s exactly what Lamont has done. I suspect he’s now working directly for Summers, who’s in the pay of the Turners, who are among Rashidi’s many outlets. That man has a chain of command any general would be proud of.’

‘When’s Rashidi due to be released?’

‘In just over a month’s time, when I’ll want you to drop everything and dog his every step, from the moment he leaves prison until we’ve got him safely back inside. That should still give you more than enough time to contact Adam Payne. But never forget, if his father thought for one moment you were double-crossing him, he’d slice you up like a piece of salami.’

‘Thank you, sir, that’s most encouraging,’ said William as they arrived back at the main entrance to the stadium.

‘I’ll see you again in two weeks’ time, when we play Leicester,’ said the Hawk. ‘But don’t hesitate to call me at home if you come up with anything worthwhile.’

He headed for the nearest turnstile, while William made his way to the Gunners’ Tube station, where he boarded an empty train back to Fulham.

‘If the Bar Council were to find out you’re alive, and I’m still acting for you,’ said Booth Watson, ‘I would undoubtedly be disbarred, and probably end up in prison.’

‘That’s why I never complain about your exorbitant fees, BW.’

‘Nevertheless, Miles, anything we do in the future will have to be in the name of Captain Ralph Neville, because as far as I’m concerned, Miles Faulkner is dead. I know because I attended his funeral.’

‘So did I,’ said Miles, ‘and nobody gave me a second look other than you. In fact, that was what gave me the confidence to move on to stage two of my long-term plan. Now it’s time for stage three. But first, how did your meeting with Christina go?’

‘She put up a fight, but not much of one. Settled for two thousand a week after I explained what the alternatives were.’

‘Sackcloth and ashes didn’t appeal to her?’

‘I think it was the ashes part that finally convinced her.’

‘Good, then that’s settled. Let’s move on, as another problem has arisen.’

Booth Watson unscrewed the top of his fountain pen and prepared to make notes.

‘I’m still in possession of all my paintings that are worth several million, but if I were to sell even one of them on the open market, some inquisitive busybody might start to wonder if I was still alive, not least Detective Inspector Warwick, even though he also attended my funeral.’

‘Why not let Christina put them up for auction? That way no one need become suspicious.’

‘I’ve already thought about that, but it’s too much of a risk. My deal with Christina ensures she keeps her end of the bargain as long as she believes that if she doesn’t, her only source of income will dry up. If she was able to get her hands on one of my pictures, let alone the entire collection, she’d pocket the proceeds and disappear off the face of the earth, but not before she’d shopped Captain Ralph Neville and made sure he walked the plank.’

‘If the open market is out of the question, what about the closed market?’ suggested Booth Watson. ‘I represent several clients who are cash rich, and following the government’s recent guidelines on money laundering, are stuck with large sums of money they can’t easily dispose of.’

‘I can’t think of a better example of supply and demand,’ said Miles. ‘One of your clients could buy a painting from me with some of their surplus cash, put it up for auction, then collect a legitimate cheque, which they could then deposit in any bank they choose, while I make at least fifty per cent on the deal.’

‘What about the problem of provenance?’

‘They could say they bought it from Mrs Christina Faulkner, and it was part of her late husband’s estate.’

‘She’d expect a cut.’

‘Give her ten per cent of the sale price, and promise her there’ll be more where that came from, as long as she keeps her side of the bargain. She has absolutely no interest in my collection, but does like money. Now all you have to do is decide who my first client will be.’

‘Your friend Assem Rashidi is getting out of prison in about a month’s time. I happen to know he’s sitting on millions in cash that’s locked in a bank vault that he can’t transfer to his regular account, not least because the moment he’s out, the authorities will be watching him like a hawk.’

‘An unfortunate simile,’ said Miles. ‘But why don’t you set up a meeting?’

‘That would only create another problem.’

‘Namely?’

‘If I invited you both to my chambers, we might as well ask William Warwick to join us and take notes.’

‘But Christina told me he’s been suspended, and is facing a disciplinary hearing.’

‘That doesn’t mean he’s sitting around twiddling his thumbs. No, we need to select somewhere he’d never think of, and I believe I’ve found the ideal location. But even so, a meeting with Mr Rashidi would create yet another problem.’

‘Like what?’

‘He would be added to the list of those who know you’re still alive.’

‘Assem’s a friend, and in any case, it’s in his interests to keep his mouth shut.’

‘Until he stops being a friend,’ said Booth Watson, ‘and it’s in his interests to open his mouth, then he’d have us by the balls.’

‘Not as long as he’s hoping to open another slaughter when he comes out,’ said Miles, ‘in which case we’ll be holding each other’s balls.’

‘Then I’ll arrange a meeting as soon as he’s released, and let you know when and where, as it certainly won’t be in my chambers. By the way, how did you get on with Rashidi when you were inside?’

‘Liked him, but wouldn’t trust him an inch.’

‘Funny. He said the same thing about you.’