This Was A Man (19 page)

‘Understood.’

‘Will it be the same bag lady?’

‘Yes,’ said Mellor, hoping that Virginia had not only got the money, but would be willing to act as the intermediary once again.

Nash looked at him more closely. ‘I hope you’ve given some thought to the consequences of not coming up with the second half of the payment.’

‘Not a problem,’ said Mellor, who had thought of little else for the past week. He fell back and walked alone, wondering, praying, hoping, that Virginia had convinced Knowles to lend
him the ten thousand. He checked his watch. In another five hours he’d know.

‘Jim Knowles,’ said a voice on the other end of the line.

‘Jim, it’s Virginia Fenwick.’

‘Virginia, how are you? It’s been a long time.’

‘Too long. But I’m about to make up for it.’

‘What do you have in mind?’

‘I have a little proposition that you just might find interesting. I don’t suppose you’re free for lunch?’

Virginia was sitting by the phone at five p.m. on Tuesday, well aware that she only had three minutes in which to deliver her well-prepared script. She had written out several
bullet points to make sure she didn’t miss anything of importance. When the phone rang, she picked it up immediately.

‘7784.’

‘Hello, my darling, it’s Priscilla. I thought I’d give you a call and see if you’re free for a spot of lunch on Thursday?’

‘Not now,’ said Virginia, slamming the receiver down. The phone rang again seconds later.

‘7784,’ she repeated.

‘It’s Desmond. Have you been able to—’ He clearly didn’t want to waste a second. She checked her first bullet point.

‘Yes. Knowles has agreed to loan you ten thousand against the flat in Bristol.’

‘Thank God,’ said Mellor, breathing a deep sigh of relief that she could hear clearly.

‘But if you fail to pay him back the full amount within thirty days, he’s demanding extra collateral.’

‘Like what?’

‘Your shares in Mellor Travel.’

‘But they’re worth about a million and a half.’

‘Take it or leave it, if I remember his exact words.’

Mellor paused for a moment, aware that his three minutes were fast running out.

‘I don’t have a lot of choice. Tell the bastard I accept his terms, and I’ll pay him back the moment the flat is sold.’

‘I’ll pass on the message immediately, but he won’t release the money until he’s seen your signature on the document that will transfer ownership of the shares to him
should you fail to pay him back within thirty days.’

‘But how can I possibly sign it in time?’ said Mellor, sounding desperate again.

‘Don’t worry. His lawyers have done all the paperwork, and it will be delivered to the prison later this evening. Just be sure you have someone looking out for it.’

‘Address the envelope to Mr Graves. He’s my floor officer, and he’s already done me a couple of favours, so you can trust him. As long as he’s on duty tonight, I should
be able to turn it round immediately.’

Virginia made a note of the name, before checking her list again. ‘Where and when do I deliver the money?’

‘Thursday, twelve o’clock, Trafalgar Square. Your contact will be standing between the fountains. Just be sure you’re not late.’

‘Will it be the same woman?’

‘No. Look for a bald middle-aged man wearing a navy blazer and jeans.’ Virginia made another note. ‘You’re a diamond,’ said Mellor. ‘I owe you.’

‘Anything else I can do?’

‘No, but I’ll be sending you a letter that I need you to—’

The line went dead.

Mr Graves put down the phone in his office and waited for his instructions.

‘You’ll need to make sure you’re on duty when the document arrives at the prison gate later this evening.’

‘No problem. Not many officers volunteer for the night shift.’

‘And make sure Mellor signs the agreement, and that you witness his signature.’

‘What do I do then?’

‘Take it out with you when you come off duty and deliver it to the address Mellor writes on the envelope. And don’t forget, you’ve still got one more job to do before you can
get paid.’

Graves frowned. ‘You’d better get back to your cell before someone notices you’re missing,’ the prison officer said, trying to re-establish his authority.

‘Whatever you say, guv,’ said Nash, before slipping out of the office and making his way back to his cell.

When Virginia woke the next morning, she found a large envelope lying on the doormat. She didn’t want to know who’d delivered it, or when. She checked her watch:
9.14 a.m. Knowles wasn’t due to pick it up until ten, giving her more than enough time.

She ripped open the envelope and extracted the document, quickly turning to the last page to check that Mellor had signed it. She smiled when she saw his friend, Mr Graves, had witnessed the
signature. Virginia placed the agreement back in the envelope, left her little flat in Chelsea and headed for a shop in Pimlico that she’d checked out the previous day.

The young man behind the counter made two copies of the document and charged her £2.00 and another 20p for a large brown envelope. She was back in her flat twenty minutes later, reading
the morning paper, when there was a knock at the door.

Knowles kissed her on both cheeks as if they were old friends, but once he’d exchanged one brown envelope for another, he left immediately. Virginia returned to the drawing room, ripped
open the new envelope and counted the money. Fifteen thousand, as agreed. Not a bad morning’s work. Now all she had to do was decide whether or not to deliver the ten thousand to the bald man
in the navy blazer and jeans who would be waiting for her in Trafalgar Square.

When Virginia arrived at the bank, she made her way straight to the manager’s office. Mr Leigh stood up the moment she entered the room. Without a word, she extracted five
cellophane packets and the copy of a three-page document from a Swan and Edgar bag, and placed them on his desk.

‘Please credit my account with the five thousand pounds, and place this document among my personal papers.’

Mr Leigh gave her a slight bow and was about to ask . . . but she had already left the room.

Virginia walked out of the bank and on to the Strand, before making her way slowly towards Trafalgar Square. She had decided to carry out Mellor’s instructions, not least because she
recalled him saying how severe the consequences would be if he failed to repay the money, and she didn’t want any harm to come to her only other source of income.

She paused opposite St Martin in the Fields and, clutching her Swan and Edgar bag tightly, waited for the traffic lights to turn red before she crossed the road. A flock of startled pigeons flew
into the air as she stepped into the square and headed towards the fountains.

A child was jumping up and down in the water and his mother was begging him to come out. Just beyond them was a bald-headed man wearing an open-neck shirt, dark blue blazer and jeans, whose eyes
never left her. She walked across to him and handed over the shopping bag. He didn’t even look inside, just turned his back and disappeared among a crowd of tourists.

Virginia breathed a sigh of relief. The operation had gone without a hitch, and she was already looking forward to having lunch with Priscilla. She made her way towards the National Gallery and
hailed a taxi, while the bald man continued striding in the opposite direction. He couldn’t miss the silver-grey Bentley that was parked outside South Africa House. As he approached the car a
tinted window purred down and a hand appeared. He passed over the Swan and Edgar bag and waited.

Conrad Sorkin checked the ten cellophane packets before handing one of them back to the courier.

‘Thank you, Mr Graves. Please let Mr Nash know that Lady Virginia failed to turn up.’

S
IX MEN SAT
opposite each other preparing for battle, although in truth they were all on the same side. Three of them represented Farthings Kaufman, and
the other three Thomas Cook Ltd, one of the bank’s oldest clients.

Hakim Bishara, chairman of Farthings Kaufman, sat on one side of the table, with Sebastian Clifton, his CEO, on his right, and the bank’s in-house lawyer, Arnold Hardcastle, on his left.
Opposite Hakim sat Ray Brook, the chairman of Cook’s, on his right the company’s MD, Brian Dawson, and on his left Naynesh Desai, his legal advisor.

‘Allow me to open this meeting by welcoming all of you,’ said Hakim. ‘May I add how delighted we are to be representing Cook’s in their attempt to take over Mellor Travel
Ltd. Sadly, this is unlikely to be a mutually agreed takeover. In fact, it is more likely to be an all-out war, and a bloody one at that. But let me assure you, gentlemen, we will succeed. I will
now ask Sebastian Clifton, who has been working on the project for some weeks, to bring us all up to speed.’

‘Thank you, chairman,’ said Seb as he opened a thick file in front of him. ‘Allow me to begin by summing up our present position. Cook’s have, for some time, expressed an
interest in acquiring Mellor Travel, which has certain assets that would bring added value to their business. In particular, their forty-two high street shops, some in towns where Cook’s do
not have a presence, or where their present location is not as well placed as their rival’s. Mellors also have a first-class, well-trained staff, although some of them have felt it necessary
to leave the company during the past year.’