Page 55 of Traitors Gate

‘Did you get everything you needed?’ asked Kay after she’d put the phone down.

‘Once we’ve doctored the tape,’ said Lamont as he rewound the spool, ‘it should prove more than enough.’

‘So what’s next?’

‘Time for you to meet Mr Booth Watson, so he can take you carefully through your lines.’

‘Is he a director?’ asked Kay.

‘Something like that,’ said Lamont as he handed the woman another brown envelope.

• • •

‘Hi, Alice, it’s Ross Hogan. Jojo’s father.’

‘You didn’t come to the end-of-term art exhibition last week, Mr Hogan, and your daughter won first prize,’ said Ms Clarke, taking Ross by surprise.

‘I’m sorry, but I was giving evidence in the Reg Simpson case, and it went on far longer than I had expected.’

‘Was he convicted?’

‘Yes. Got two years. No more than he deserved. But that wasn’t the reason I was calling.’

‘Were you hoping I would help you solve another major crime, Inspector?’

‘No. But I was hoping you’d let me take you out for dinner.’

It was Ms Clarke’s turn to be surprised. ‘When and where did you have in mind, Ross?’ she eventually managed.

‘Le Barca, next Thursday. Eight o’clock suit you?’

‘Suits me fine, Inspector. But what chance is there of you turning up on time?’

‘They’d have to steal the Crown Jewels to prevent me being there.’

• • •

‘How can I help you, sir?’ asked a second-hand car salesman, who shook him by the hand as if they were old friends.

‘I’m looking for a Jaguar XJ8,’ said Lamont.

‘Then you’ve come to the right place, sir. We have all the latest models, straight off the production line.’

‘I’m actually looking for one of last year’s models,’ said Lamont.

‘Let me find out what we have in stock,’ the salesman said, masking his disappointment. He disappeared into a back office and began rummaging through an overstuffed filing cabinet. A smile returned to his face and he hurried back to join his customer. ‘I think we have exactly what you’re looking for, sir. In fact, we can even give you a choice as we have a recent demonstration model as well as a second-hand car with only eight thousand miles on the clock. One careful driver.’

Lamont could only admire the way he was able to deliver the words with a straight face. ‘Is either of them grey?’ he asked.

‘Yes sir,’ replied the salesman, ‘our demonstration models are always grey, and come with a five-year warranty.’

‘The price?’

‘Twelve thousand, four hundred.’

‘Twelve, and you have a deal,’ said Lamont. ‘That’s assuming I like the car.’

‘I can promise you, sir, it’s exactly what you’re looking for. If you come to my office, I’ll prepare the paperwork.’

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