Джеффри Арчер - This Was a Man

She particularly disliked being searched for drugs by a butch female officer, in places that would never have crossed her mind, and waiting while barred gates were locked and unlocked before being allowed to progress a few more yards. And the noise was incessant, as if half a dozen rock bands had been penned in together. When she was finally escorted into a large, white, windowless room, she looked up to see a number of officers peering down at the visitors from a circular balcony above them, while the surveillance cameras never stopped moving. But worst of all, she had to rub shoulders not only with the working classes, but with the criminal fraternity.

However, the possibility of earning some extra cash certainly helped to ease the humiliation, although even Mellor wouldn’t be able to help with her latest problem.

That morning, Virginia had received a letter, a carefully worded letter, from the senior partner of Goodman Derrick. He had courteously but firmly requested the return, within thirty days, of some two million pounds obtained by false pretences, otherwise he would be left with no choice but to issue a writ on behalf of his client.

Virginia didn’t have two thousand pounds, let alone two million. She immediately called her solicitor and asked him to make an appointment for her to see Sir Edward Makepeace QC in the hope that he might come up with a solution. She wasn’t optimistic. The time may have come to finally accept an invitation from a distant cousin to visit his ranch in Argentina. He regularly reminded her of his offer during his annual visit to Cowdray Park, accompanied by a string of polo ponies and a bevy of handsome young men. Both changed with every visit. She could only think of one thing worse than having to spend a few years on a ranch in Argentina: having to spend a few years in a place like this.

Virginia parked her Morris Minor between a Rolls-Royce and an Austin A40 before making her way to reception.

Mellor sat alone in the visitors’ room, the precious minutes slipping away as he waited for Virginia to appear. She was never on time, but as he didn’t have any other visitors, he was in no position to complain.

He looked around the room, his eyes settling on Nash, who was sitting opposite a peroxide blonde wearing thick red lipstick, a white T-shirt with no bra and a black leather miniskirt. It was a sign of just how desperate Mellor was that he fancied her.

He watched them carefully, as did several officers from the balcony above. They didn’t appear to be speaking to each other, but then he realized that just because their lips weren’t moving, it didn’t mean they weren’t having a conversation. Most people would have assumed they were man and wife, but as Nash was gay, this had to be strictly business. And Mellor knew whose business they were discussing.

He looked up as Virginia appeared at his table holding a cup of tea and a bar of chocolate. He remembered that Sebastian Clifton had bought him two bars.

‘Any further news on your trial date?’ Virginia asked, taking the seat opposite him.

‘I’ve done a deal,’ said Mellor. ‘I’ve agreed to plead guilty to a lesser charge in exchange for a shorter sentence — another four years, making six in all. With good behaviour I could be out in three.’

‘Not too long,’ said Virginia, trying to sound optimistic.

‘Long enough for Sloane to bleed my company dry. By the time I get out, I’ll be left with nothing except the sign above the front door.’

‘Is there anything I can do to help?’

‘Yes, there is, which is why I wanted to see you. I have to get my hands on ten thousand pounds, sharpish. My mother’s will has finally been settled, and although she left me everything, she only had one thing of any value, her semi-detached in Salford. The local estate agent has managed to sell it for twelve grand, and I’ve instructed them to make the cheque out to you. I need someone to pick it up as soon as possible.’

‘I’ll go up to Salford on Tuesday,’ said Virginia, as she had an even more important meeting on Monday morning. ‘But what do you want me to do with the money?’

Mellor waited for the camera to pass over him, before he spoke again.

‘I need you to hand ten thousand in cash to a business associate. Anything left over will be yours.’

‘How will I recognize him?’

‘Her,’ said Mellor. ‘Look to my left, and you’ll see a blonde talking to a guy who looks like a heavyweight boxer.’ Virginia glanced to her right, and couldn’t miss the two characters who looked as if they might be extras on The Sweeney . ‘Can you see her?’

Virginia nodded.

‘You’re to meet her at the Science Museum. She’ll be waiting by Stephenson’s Rocket on the ground floor. I’ll phone and let you know the details as soon as I have them.’

It would be Virginia’s first visit to the Science Museum.

‘Allow me to begin, Lady Virginia, by reminding you that the relationship between a lawyer and his client is sacrosanct, so whatever you tell me concerning this case cannot, and will not, go beyond this room. However, it is equally important,’ continued Sir Edward Makepeace, ‘to stress that if you are not completely frank with me, I cannot advise you to the best of my ability.’

Nicely put, thought Virginia, sitting back and preparing herself for a series of questions she wouldn’t want to answer.

‘My first question is quite simple. Are you the mother of the Hon. Frederick Archibald Iain Bruce Fenwick?’

‘No, I am not.’

‘Are the parents of that child, as stated in Goodman Derrick’s letter, a Mr and Mrs Morton, your former butler and his wife?’

‘Yes.’

‘And therefore the settlement and maintenance payments you received from Mr Cyrus T. Grant III—’ the QC hesitated — ‘were made erroneously?’

‘Yes, they were.’

‘So would it also be correct to suggest that Mr Grant’s demand,’ Sir Edward checked the figure in Lord Goodman’s letter, ‘for two million pounds, is both fair and reasonable.’

‘I’m afraid so.’

‘With that in mind, Lady Virginia, I am bound to ask, do you have two million pounds available to pay Mr Grant, which would avoid him having to issue a writ and all the attendant publicity that would undoubtedly attract?’

‘No, I do not, Sir Edward. That is the precise reason I am seeking your advice. I wanted to find out if there are any options left open to me.’

‘Are you able to pay a large enough sum for me to attempt to make a settlement?’

‘Out of the question, Sir Edward. I don’t have two thousand pounds, let alone two million.’

‘I’m grateful for your candid response to all my questions, Lady Virginia. But given the circumstances, it would be pointless for me to attempt to play for time and try to delay proceedings, because Lord Goodman is a wily old bird, and will realize exactly what I’m up to. In any case, you would then have the extra expense of both sides’ legal costs to add to your misfortunes. And the judge would issue an order that all legal bills are paid first.’

‘So what do you advise?’

‘Sadly, madam, we have been left with only two choices. I can throw myself on their mercy, which I cannot believe will be met with any sympathy.’

‘And the second option?’

‘You can declare yourself bankrupt. That would make the other side realize that issuing a writ for two million pounds would be a complete waste of time and money, unless Mr Grant’s sole purpose is to publicly humiliate you.’ The lawyer remained silent as he waited for his client’s response.

‘Thank you for your advice, Sir Edward,’ Virginia said eventually, ‘and I am sure you will appreciate that I’ll need a little time to consider my position.’