‘Did he give you any clues why the guy’s so important?’
‘The Hawk doesn’t give clues, just commands.’
‘Silly question,’ admitted Ross, as he pushed open the window.
‘And next time you turn up without warning, make sure you knock.’
‘Why?’ said Ross, as he climbed out onto the fire escape.
‘You might find I’m in bed with someone else.’
11
SIR JULIAN LOOKED up from the other side of his desk and smiled at his client.
‘Your husband is offering you Limpton Hall – but not the paintings – the Eaton Square flat, which has only nine months left on the lease, ten thousand pounds a year to cover your staff expenses, and a settlement of half a million pounds.’
‘So how should I respond?’ asked Christina.
‘Accept Limpton Hall and the flat in Eaton Square, but ask for sixteen thousand a year, and nothing less than eight hundred thousand pounds as a settlement. After all, it’s your husband’s moral and legal responsibility to ensure that you continue to live in the style you’ve grown accustomed to after so many years as his dutiful wife.’
‘I do believe, Sir Julian, you are enjoying yourself.’
‘Certainly not, madam. I am simply carrying out my fiduciary duties on behalf of a client. No more.’
‘And certainly no less.’
Sir Julian allowed himself a wry smile. He didn’t care much for Mrs Faulkner, but he had to admit he always enjoyed her company. ‘I need to ask,’ he continued, ‘how strongly you feel about the paintings being part of the final settlement.’
‘I couldn’t feel more strongly about it,’ she said. ‘In fact, it’s a deal breaker.’
‘May I ask why, Mrs Faulkner, when you’ve made it abundantly clear you have no particular interest in art?’
‘The moment the decree absolute is granted, I’ll be putting them all up for auction. Miles won’t be able to resist buying them back, and I intend to make sure he doesn’t get them cheaply.’
Sir Julian avoided asking the obvious question, and simply said, ‘Then I shall insist the paintings at Limpton Hall are part of the settlement.’
‘All seventy-three of them,’ said Christina. ‘And you can tell Miles not to bother trying to foist me off with copies or fakes, because if he does, my next call will be to Commander Hawksby.’
Sir Julian suppressed a smile. ‘Do you have any other questions concerning the settlement, Mrs Faulkner?’
‘Just one. Did the other side agree to pay your fees?’
‘They did.’
‘Then I will be calling on you for advice fairly regularly, Sir Julian, and it may not always be about Miles. But it will always concern him.’
Jackie walked quickly across to the other side of the room when the phone on William’s desk began to ring.
‘DC Roycroft.’ The line went dead.
‘Probably William’s old school chum,’ said Lamont. ‘Unfortunately he’s unlikely to talk to anyone else.’
‘What if he calls again?’
‘We’ll have to hope Warwick’s back by then.’
‘And if he isn’t?’
‘Then you’ll have the unenviable task of deciding whether to interrupt his honeymoon.’
William stared up at the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel that, according to the guidebook, scholars considered had changed the history of Western art.
‘How long did Michelangelo take to complete the fresco?’ Beth asked.
‘He worked on it tirelessly from 1508 to 1512,’ replied William. ‘The poor man spent most of that time lying on his back on the top of a crudely constructed scaffold. By the time he’d finished he was virtually a cripple. It didn’t help that Pope Julius II never paid him on time.’
Beth was mesmerized by the sheer ambition of the project, and didn’t stop staring up at the ceiling until her neck began to ache.
‘You could have used one of the large mirrors provided,’ suggested William.
‘I could also have bought a postcard. If Rome wasn’t littered with masterpieces, I’d visit the chapel every day until you had to drag me away!’
‘Even though you’d have to join a long queue of fellow worshippers early each morning?’
‘Michelangelo lay on his back for four years to achieve this unique masterpiece, so I’d be only too happy to queue for a couple of hours to pay homage to his memory.’
The phone on William’s desk was ringing again. If it hadn’t been the third time that morning, Lamont would have ignored it.
‘Answer it,’ he said in exasperation. ‘But don’t tell whoever it is that William’s still on his honeymoon.’
Jackie picked up the receiver and said, ‘DS Warwick’s not available at the moment.’
‘I need to speak to him urgently.’
‘Can I pass on a message?’
‘Tell him Faulkner has placed his dinner order.’
‘Anything else?’
‘I’ll call back in an hour’s time, when I’ll expect him to be on the other end of the line. I can’t believe he’s got anything more important to do than catching Faulkner in the act.’
‘That won’t be possible,’ said Jackie, but the line had already gone dead.
The phone began to ring just as William finished shaving. He grabbed the bathroom extension in the hope it hadn’t woken Beth.
‘Good morning,’ he said quietly.
‘William, it’s Jackie. Your OSC has just called, to say that Faulkner’s placed his dinner order, whatever that means. He needs to talk to you about it urgently. Do you want me to give him your number when he next rings?’
‘Yes, of course. Tell him to get in touch as soon as possible,’ whispered William, before putting the phone down.
‘Another woman?’ said Beth sleepily when he returned to the bedroom.
‘That’s never going to be your problem,’ William said, as he sat down on the bed beside her and gently rested an ear on her stomach. ‘I can hear something.’
‘A little boy?’
‘No, it’s a little girl.’
‘How can you be so sure?’
‘She’s grumbling.’
‘About their father wanting to desert both of us and go home, rather than spend another day with the other man in my life.’
‘So is that what you have planned for today?’
‘Yes. I want to go back to the Sistine Chapel.’
‘Fine by me. But we’ll have to queue.’
‘I’ll queue
