Page 69 of An Eye for an Eye

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‘I’m driving along the Albert Embankment,’ said Ross, ‘and almost every building I pass is overlooking the Thames.’

‘I’m on the other side,’ came in Jackie, ‘heading towards the City. No offices, but no shortage of people enjoying an afternoon by the river.’

‘And you, Paul?’ asked William.

‘Someone stole my motorbike,’ he said, causing Ross to stifle a laugh. ‘I’m currently walking past the Saatchi Gallery. Crammed with tourists. But no sign of Faulkner.’

‘Which is exactly why he chose a Sunday afternoon,’ said William. ‘How about you, Rebecca?’

‘I’m just coming out of Westminster tube station,’ she said, ‘and will head towards the river.’

‘All of you, keep looking,’ said William, trying not to sound desperate.

•••

‘I like your office overlooking the river,’ said the stranger, not introducing himself.

‘It takes the wheel about thirty minutes to complete a full circle,’ said Miles as he sat down beside him, ‘so we can’t afford to waste any time.’

‘How did you manage to get an empty capsule all to yourself?’ asked the stranger.

‘I had to buy all twenty-five tickets to make sure no one else could join us,’ Miles explained as they set off on their upward journey.

The stranger looked out over the skyline. ‘So, who’s the mark?’

‘A common prostitute called Avril Dubois,’ said Miles. ‘She works at the Down and Out Club, so shouldn’t be too difficult to find.’

‘But she’ll have a dozen protection officers watching her every move,’ said the stranger, taking Miles by surprise.

‘What makes you say that?’

‘Don’t insult my intelligence, Mr Faulkner,’ said the stranger. ‘When Tulip told me the mark would be a prostitute, I realized the last thing she would be was common. You only have to read the tabloids to discover Ms Dubois will be the principal witness for the defence in the Simon Hartley trial – so the one thing you can be sure of is she’ll be well protected,’ he paused, ‘night and day.’

‘Does that mean you’re no longer willing to do the job?’ Miles asked, as the wheel reached its peak of 135 metres above the Thames.

‘No,’ said the stranger, ‘but it’s going to cost you double.’

‘But we agreed on twenty thousand,’ said Miles.

‘That was before I realized the mark was Avril Dubois.’

‘I only have twenty thousand on me,’ said Miles, tapping his waist.

‘Then I’ll have to take your watch,’ said the stranger, as he glanced across the river to see a traffic jam building up on the far side of the Thames.

‘But it’s a Rolex Daytona,’ protested Miles, ‘and cost me over forty thousand.’

‘I’ll be lucky to get twenty thousand for it on the second-hand market,’ said the stranger. ‘Take it or leave it.’

Miles considered the alternative as the capsule began its descent. Finding someone else to take his place at such short notice had to be weighed against how much he had to gain if he could keep Hartley out of the way long enough for Christie’s to auction Jefferson’s Declaration. He took off the Rolex and reluctantly handed it to the stranger.

‘And the other twenty thousand,’ said the stranger as he strapped on his new watch, ‘in cash.’

Miles lifted his tracksuit top, unfastened a thick money belt and placed it on the seat beside the stranger, who slipped it around his waist and fastened the strap without bothering to check the contents. They were both well aware that if his client had short-changed him, the job wouldn’t get done.

‘When will you carry out your side of the bargain?’ asked Miles, as the capsule continued on its downward journey.