Page 44 of An Eye for an Eye

However, it was theEvening Standardthat moved the story on with their first edition headlineWho? and Why?

Commander Hawksby and Superintendent Warwick could have answered both those questions, but no editor would have considered printing their thoughts, well aware that a libel writ would have landed on their desks within hours.

‘We don’t have any proof,’ admitted the Hawk, after a discussion had gone back and forth for over an hour.

‘That won’t stop me interviewing Faulkner under caution,’ said William, ‘in the hope he says something he later regrets.’

‘Not a chance while his puppet master is standing by his side delivering a well-prepared script,’ said the Hawk. ‘But while you’re at it, William, you may as well send Ross and Rebecca to the Fitzmolean to interview their head of security.’ He looked down at his notes. ‘Alan Roberts – I suspect he’s no more than an innocent bystander, but he might have something worthwhile to contribute.’

‘And follow that up with a visit to Wormwood Scrubs,’ said William. ‘I find it hard to believe that Faulkner and Billy Mumford, the most celebrated forger in the country, just happened to be in the same prison at the same time.’

‘Then you and Inspector Adaja had better get moving,’ instructed the Hawk, ‘because you can be sure Faulkner will be waiting for you.’

William left the Hawk’s office, feeling that Faulkner may as well have heard every word that had passed between them.

•••

When William and Inspector Adaja arrived at Booth Watson’s chambers in Middle Temple half an hour later, they were not surprised to be kept waiting. Ironically, Booth Watson played into William’s hands, because during the fifteen-minute wait, Jackie called to let William know that a thousand pounds had recently been deposited in Billy Mumford’s account.

When a secretary eventually showed them into the senior silk’s office, they found Booth Watson sitting behind his desk, with his client in a chair beside him, looking smug.

‘Let me make it clear from the outset, Chief Superintendent,’ Booth Watson began, ‘no one was more surprised than myclient to discover the Rembrandt was a fake, but he’ll be only too happy to help with your enquiry. As you will know, my client has been a model citizen since his release, even attending classes on becoming a reformed character.’ He somehow kept a straight face.

‘Then perhaps you can explain, Mr Booth Watson,’ said William, ‘why your client transferred one thousand pounds to the personal account of a Billy Mumford, a convicted forger, while you were both in the same prison.’

‘I bought a copy of Monet’sWater Liliesfrom Mumfordthe day before I was released – a painting I purchased with the Governor’s approval,’ said Faulkner, delivering a well-prepared response. ‘I paid no more than the going rate and, of course, it was signed by Billy, as he had no desire to mislead anyone. Should you wish to see the painting, Chief Superintendent, you are most welcome to visit my home in Chelsea, where it hangs above the fireplace in the drawing room.’

‘But did your client also purchase a copy of Rembrandt’sAngelat the same time?’ asked Inspector Adaja. ‘As one thousand seems a little excessive for a fake.’

‘Certainly not,’ said Faulkner. ‘In fact, I was as surprised as you were, Chief Superintendent, when the Countess unveiled the drawing to see it hadn’t been signed, showing it had to be a copy. However, I was delighted to hear how quickly the original was returned to its rightful place as the centrepiece of the exhibition.’ He paused, looked directly at William and said, ‘But not before the penny had dropped!’

Paul was beginning to wonder if he would have to step in and stop William thumping the damn man.

‘I am, as you will know, Chief Superintendent,’ said Miles, ‘a patron of the Fitzmolean, and if you felt there was anything I could do to help your wife’s cause, don’t hesitate to call onme, as I consider it most unfair that some of the more scurrilous members of the gutter press are calling for her resignation,’ he added, making no attempt to dampen the flames.

‘I think she’ll somehow manage to survive without your help,’ said William.

‘Let’s hope so,’ replied Faulkner, ‘but, sadly, I can’t see her making it onto the shortlist for director of Tate. But I could be wrong.’

‘Let me remind you, Mr Faulkner,’ said William, ignoring the comment, ‘that you are currently on probation, and the CPS can, at our request, send you back to prison to complete your four-year sentence while we continue to carry out our enquiries.’

‘You can, indeed, Chief Superintendent,’ came back Booth Watson, ‘but only if you can show that my client was in any way involved in the temporary removal of Rembrandt’sAngel. I have a feeling, if you were foolish enough to go down that road, it would only put your wife back on the front pages for all the wrong reasons, shortly before she appears in front of the board of the Fitzmolean to explain how this embarrassing situation could have possibly arisen in the first place.’

William wondered how Booth Watson could know that Beth had agreed to face the board, as a date hadn’t even been fixed.

‘And the last thing I would want,’ continued Booth Watson, ‘is for the press to speculate that you might have unjustly sent my client back to prison while your judgement was influenced by your wife having to consider her position as director of the Fitzmolean.’

‘Are you threatening me, Mr Booth Watson?’ said William, taking a step forward. ‘Because if you are—’

‘I am doing no more than defending my client’s rights and making sure he has his say in the court of public opinion,’ said Booth Watson, ‘as you seem determined to deprive him of those rights, dare I suggest, for personal reasons. So, if you’re not going to arrest my client, Chief Superintendent, can I advise you to leave, and only return when you have some proof, not just idle speculation.’

Before William could respond, Booth Watson rose from behind his desk, walked across the room, opened the door and waited for them to depart.

The two police officers left with nothing.

‘How many years do you think I’d get,’ asked William, as he and Paul walked down the stairs, ‘if I were to murder both men and claim excessive provocation?’

‘Ten at most. Both might be considered excessive,’ said Paul, as they climbed back into the waiting squad car. ‘But if you could settle for just Faulkner … That’s assuming your father would be representing you, I’ve no doubt he could get you a couple of years off for good behaviour.’