Page 43 of An Eye for an Eye

The Countess remained rooted to the spot, while attempting to look composed.

Sir Nicholas made an instant decision. ‘Perhaps I should accompany you back to your car, ma’am,’ he said to the royal visitor as the freelance cameraman kept on flashing to capture the not-so-triumphant moment.

The guest of honour seemed quite willing to take the chairman’s advice, and quickly followed Sir Nicholas across the crowded room and down the grand staircase, pursued by the pack of journalists who no longer had a cosy ‘royal unveiling’ piece to file, but a lead story that would remove any other headlines planned earlier that day.

William’s eyes never left Miles. He was chatting to a board member, whose name he couldn’t remember. Booth Watson looked on, the only three people in the room who were smiling.

When the Countess left the room, William quickly pursued the royal party as they made their way down the wide staircase.

Once they were out on the street, the Countess climbed into the back of her waiting car and was whisked away. The cameras didn’t stop flashing until the car had turned the corner and they were out of sight.

William turned around and headed back inside to find the entrance hall full of puzzled chattering guests, who were making their way out of the museum. He stopped in his tracks when he saw Miles Faulkner standing at the foot of the staircase.

William clenched a fist, but didn’t raise it.

‘If I might be allowed to give you a word of advice, Chief Superintendent,’ said Miles, ‘I’d tell your wife to go and spend a penny.’

William turned around, ran back up the stairs and into the gallery to find Beth standing alone on the stage, her eyes still fixed on theAngel. She was loath to admit it was an outstanding copy, which would have fooled most onlookers.

‘I think I know where the original is,’ whispered William, as he joined his wife on the stage.

‘On the other side of the world by now,’ suggested his wife, barely audible.

‘Or perhaps it’s closer than we think.’ William looked across the room to see Alan Roberts standing in the corridor, about to unlock the door to the ladies’ toilet.

William jumped off the stage, ran across the gallery and reached the open door just as an elderly lady was about to go in. He barged in front of her and quickly went inside.

‘What a rude man,’ said the lady, as the door was slammed in her face.

The first thing William saw, sitting proudly atop the toilet,was Rembrandt’sAngel, the master’s signature clearly visible for all to see. He lifted theAngelcarefully from her place, opened the door and stepped back out into the corridor. He was relieved to see that almost all the guests had departed, except for Christina, who was on the stage trying to comfort Beth.

Beth stared in disbelief as William walked up onto the stage clutching the drawing. ‘Where was it?’ she asked.

‘In the ladies’ loo,’ he replied.

Without another word William and Christina replaced the copy with the original, while Beth watched in disbelief.

‘How did you know where it was?’ she asked quietly.

‘The person who put it there told me,’ said William, ‘and if I can identify the forger, I’ll have them both behind bars before the end of the week.’

‘Why bother?’ said Beth. ‘He’s achieved what he set out to do.’

‘But theAngel’s now back in place,’ said Christina, ‘and as she never left the building, what harm has been done?’

‘No more and no less than he intended,’ said Beth quietly. ‘A missing masterpiece that ended up in the loo. A member of the royal family unveiling a copy in front of the museum’s most important guests – what more could he want? Faulkner was well aware the story would end up on the front page of every national paper in the morning, leaving me with no choice but to resign.’

BOOK 2

Revenge is a dish best served cold.

Old English proverb

CHAPTER 10

AVENGINGANGEL,FITZMOLEANFAKEANDANGEL’SWINGSCLIPPEDwere among the banner headlines on almost every front page the next morning, accompanied by a photograph of the Countess of Wessex pulling a cord. Double-page spreads, comment columns and leaders didn’t hold back in suggesting heads should roll – and one head in particular.

Several touched on the news that theAngelhad miraculously reappeared within an hour, and theSuncouldn’t resist adding,after spending that hour on the toilet.