Page 66 of An Eye for an Eye

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Page 66 of An Eye for an Eye

‘Anything you need?’ asked Miles.

‘No,’ said Tulip. ‘Thanks to you, I’m well taken care of.’ He leant back and drained his coffee.

The buzzer sounded a second time.

‘See you next Sunday,’ said Miles, who rose from his place and made his way quickly out of the room so that he would be among the first to be escorted back to reception. He didn’t look back, but if he had, he would have seen Tulip devouring the second KitKat and placing the packet of cigarettes in his pocket before being escorted back to his cell.

Miles joined a group of visitors who were being accompanied to reception, where he collected his mobile phone and wallet and slipped on his belt.

Once he’d escaped – because that’s how it felt – Miles returned to his car and was driven away by the only chauffeur in the car park.

•••

The lip reader in chief, as she was known at the Scrubs, arrived at Scotland Yard just after Miles had reached his home in Chelsea.

Once Kimberley Young had introduced herself to the two police officers, William didn’t waste any time before asking his first question: ‘Did your team come up with anything we might find helpful?’

‘Hard to tell,’ admitted Kimberley, ‘because they were clearly aware of our presence and played the double conversation trick to near perfection. While one of them delivered a well-prepared script, the visitor replied while his lips barely moved. So we have one side of a non sequitur conversation, while the other is a series of random words that I can only hope will mean something to you. However, even the mostaccomplished ventriloquist finds certain letters are almost impossible to pronounce without their lips moving.’

‘Which ones?’ asked William.

‘B F M P R W all present their own problems. I challenge you to say, without moving your lips: Betty Wilson works at a beauty parlour in Peterborough and is married to a farm labourer from Richmond who smokes Benson and Hedges.’

Both of them had given up before they reached Peterborough.

Having proved her point, Kimberley handed over a second sheet of paper, with the few words her team had managed to pick up from Faulkner’s conversation.Removal, prostitute, Putney,followed bythree, busiest,plushands in my pockets,my office overlooking the riverandsee you next Sunday.

They both studied the words for some time before William said, ‘He must have been asking Tulip to recommend a hit man to remove Avril, and he wants to meet him at his office overlooking the river.’

‘On Sunday at three o’clock,’ added Ross.

‘What makes you say that?’ asked Kimberley.

‘Because Faulkner doesn’t have an appointment to see Tulip next Sunday,’ said William.

‘And in any case, Billy the Forger would never expect to be paid twenty thousand, even for a painting of the Virgin Mary,’ said Ross.

‘The river in question has to be the Thames, but our Marine Unit can’t be expected to patrol the thirty-seven miles from one end to the other,’ said William, ‘even if we have got the time right.’

‘They could be meeting on a barge, river boat, even a ferry,’ suggested Ross.

‘Unlikely,’ said Kimberley. ‘One of my team would havepicked up river boat, barge or ferry. R B B and F,’ she reminded them.

‘But,’ said William, ‘how did you pick upsee you next Sundaywhen Faulkner could have delivered that sentence without having to move his lips?’

‘Because at the time,’ said Kimberley, ‘I was sitting on the next table to Faulkner, clutching onto a baby while my deputy sat opposite me. Not something we’ll be able to do twice,’ admitted Kimberley. ‘But you did tell me, Inspector, that it was top priority, as a young lady’s life might be in danger.’

‘Is in danger,’ said William.

CHAPTER 17

BOOTHWATSON HAD LEARNT OVERthe years that whenever Miles used the wordurgent, he meant yesterday, which was the reason he turned up outside 57 Cadogan Square within an hour of Miles summoning him, despite it being a Sunday. If there was anything else he’d learnt about his client, it was that it was a pointless exercise to try and second guess why he wanted to see him and it was wise to never appear surprised, whatever he came up with.

The reliable Collins answered the door. ‘Good morning, sir,’ he said before accompanying Booth Watson through to his master’s study, when it became clear from the look on Miles’s face that he was in a foul mood. He quickly found out why.

‘I’ve had the Hartley’s Constable valued by Christie’s,’ said Miles before Booth Watson could open his Gladstone bag and take out a yellow pad and fountain pen.

‘How much did they estimate it would fetch?’ asked Booth Watson as he sat down.




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