Page 106 of End Game
‘But if I remember correctly, Mr Booth Watson,’ said William, ‘you told us the call you were waiting for was from an important client.’ He paused, ‘Unless, of course, the director of the CPS is one of your important clients, which shouldn’t be too difficult to establish.’
‘Perhaps you could ask your secretary to join us,’ said the Hawk, before he could reply, ‘as presumably she put the call through.’
‘I made the call direct,’ said Booth Watson, a little too quickly, ‘but he wasn’t available, so I left a message asking him to call me urgently.’
‘Which, once again, shouldn’t be difficult to confirm,’ said the Hawk.
This finally silenced Booth Watson, but not William.
‘I feel sure I don’t have to remind you, Mr Booth Watson,’he said, ‘that it is an offence for an officer of the law not to report a crime they have witnessed – to the proper authorities and at the first possible opportunity.’
An even longer silence followed, before Booth Watson eventually murmured, ‘But you have to understand that Longe was threatening me with the same fate as Faulkner if I opened my mouth.’
‘Which, no doubt, is why you went round to Mr Faulkner’s home earlier this morning to warn Collins what had happened.’
‘That’s correct,’ said Booth Watson, ‘but he slammed the door in my face. However, as soon as I got to my office, I called the director of the CPS and told him exactly what had taken place.’
‘So it wouldn’t be true to suggest that you now represent Mr Longe?’ suggested William, removing the pin from his own hand grenade.
‘Of course it isn’t,’ said Booth Watson, an appalled look appearing on his face. ‘Let me assure you, gentlemen, there are no circumstances that would allow me to represent someone who’d murdered my oldest and dearest friend.’ He paused before adding, ‘What sort of man do you take me for?’
If the phone on Booth Watson’s desk hadn’t begun to ring, William might have told him.
Booth Watson ignored the insistent ring, but the Hawk quickly stepped forward and jabbed the answer button. If it was the director of the CPS on the other end of the line, they had no case.
A desperate voice came over the speakerphone. ‘It’s Bernie Longe, Mr Booth Watson. I’ve been arrested for Faulkner’s murder,’ he bleated, ‘and am only allowed one call, so now you’re going to get a chance to earn your thousand pounds a day.’
‘Shut up, you fool. The police are with me,’ he shouted, as he took a pace forward, but William stepped in between them, preventing Booth Watson from grabbing the phone and ending the call. He was enjoying his role as bad cop.
‘Mr Booth Watson will call you back,’ said the Hawk, in a soothing tone.
‘But when?’ said Longe, still sounding desperate.
‘I can’t be sure,’ admitted the Hawk, ‘but if I had to guess, I would say anywhere between six and ten years’ time.’
‘And that’s the man,’ said William, as the Hawk bent down and ended the call, ‘who you’ve just said you wouldn’t be willing to represent at any cost, because he’d killed your oldest and dearest friend?’
‘Yet it would appear,’ added the Hawk, before Booth Watson could respond, ‘that Longe, by his own admission, is already paying you a retainer of a thousand pounds a day.’
‘You have both exceeded your authority,’ said Booth Watson, pushing William to one side and heading towards the door, ‘so I suggest you leave before I call the—’
‘Call who, Mr Booth Watson?’ asked the Hawk, ‘the director of the CPS?’
‘… and don’t come back until you have a warrant for my arrest,’ he said, not lowering his voice.
The Hawk allowed the suggestion of a smile to cross his face, as he extracted a document from an inside pocket. ‘Funny you should mention that,’ he said, ‘because, Mr Booth Watson, QC, I’m placing you under arrest. I’m sure I don’t have to remind you that it’s an offence to aid or abet an offender when you know, or have reason to believe, that said person has committed an offence.’
The Hawk stepped forward, pulled Booth Watson’s armsbehind his back and handcuffed him. ‘I haven’t done that for years,’ said the Hawk, sounding rather pleased with himself.
‘You do not have to say anything,’ William instructed Booth Watson, who was now trembling from head to toe. ‘But it may harm your defence if you do not mention when questioned something which you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence.’
William must have delivered those words over a hundred times during the past thirty years, but they had never given him the same satisfaction.
•••
Councillor Dawson looked around the packed room, a smile of satisfaction rarely leaving his face, as he greeted fellow councillors, friends, staff members, the borough mayor, and even the local MP.
Maurice Dawson had spent some considerable time preparing his farewell speech, and had delivered it once again in the bath earlier that morning, with his wife as a Pope-like audience.
