Page 15 of End Game
‘Then how did the Russians get their hands on it?’ enquired Christina.
‘Plunder from the spoils of war,’ explained Beth. ‘Whenthe Russians entered the outskirts of Berlin in 1945, they reached Göring’s private residence just hours before the Americans – otherwise the portrait might have spent the last few decades hanging on the walls of the Met rather than the Hermitage.’
‘The way Miles is looking at the work,’ said Christina, ‘he might well be the next person to try and repatriate it.’
‘With the Ambassador’s blessing, perhaps,’ suggested Beth. ‘They looked rather cosy together, don’t you think?’
‘Possibly,’ said Christina, ‘but what would the Russian Ambassador expect in return?’
Beth only wished William was among the guests, as he might well have offered an opinion. But with the Games almost upon them, her husband hadn’t been able to take a night off. He was practically living between Scotland Yard and the Olympic Stadium, and she barely saw him for more than a snatched half-hour. Not that he had been invited tonight. Another coincidence, or was she overreacting? Her eyes settled on Wilbur, who was currently chatting to the Ambassador’s wife. Why had the chairman’s husband received an invitation but not the director’s? Another coincidence?
Perhaps she was reading too much into it – or perhaps the time had come to have a word with Ross. If there was one person who knew how Miles Faulkner’s mind worked as well as William did – and despised him just as much – it was Ross.
•••
‘Will you get a chance to see any of the Olympics?’ asked Alice.
‘From the opening ceremony to the closing ceremony,’ replied Sir Julian, with a smile of satisfaction.
‘How come?’ demanded Alice.
‘The IOC have invited me to chair a panel of judges during the Games.’
‘And what do they do?’ asked Alice.
‘Not a lot,’ admitted Julian. ‘Unless there’s an unresolved dispute between two or more countries, when I become the final arbitrator. It’s pro bono, of course, except I get to see any event I wish to attend – in my own box.’
‘Some people …’ began Alice, but was distracted by the tapping of a spoon against a glass.
‘Good evening,’ said the Ambassador, ‘and may I begin by welcoming you …’
Miles turned to slip away. Speeches, like queues, were not on his to-do list. He stepped out – unnoticed.
•••
Once Miles was back in his car, he phoned Booth Watson and asked him to join him for dinner at the Savoy. It would not have crossed Miles’s mind that BW might be otherwise engaged.
Once they’d given their orders to the maître d’, Miles reported to his lawyer the conversation that had taken place with the Russian Ambassador.
Booth Watson was not slow to offer an opinion. ‘Whatever he’s willing to offer you, Miles, walk away,’ he said firmly. ‘We’re not talking about a gang of two-bit criminals here. This is the Russian Ambassador, briefing you on behalf of his masters. You are never going to get the upper hand with that lot – it’s far too dangerous a game. Try not to forget. You can’t hang a Van Gogh in a prison cell – or in a coffin.’
But Booth Watson knew his client wasn’t listening.
CHAPTER 5
8 June 2012 – 49 days to go
ROSSHOGAN’S LIFE HAD CHANGEDso much in the fifteen years since he first met Alice. Then, he was a widower, trying to balance parenting his young daughter Jojo with a full-on job in Royal Protection. Now, Jojo was grown up, and Ross and Alice’s son, Jack, was about to start secondary school. But Ross’s career had stalled. A particularly unfortunate encounter with Miles Faulkner twelve years ago had seen him suspended for a year, before eventually returning to the force – not as Chief Inspector Hogan, but as Sergeant Hogan. He had spent his time issuing parking tickets, which had given him more than enough time to nurse a grudge bordering on hatred. And to make matters worse Faulkner had been released after only four years. Ross had been in traffic control for far too long and was once again considering resigning. William’s recent lifeline had changed all that overnight and given him a second chance.
But if there was one thing about Ross that hadn’t changed over the years, it was his early morning run through Hyde Park and across Kensington Gardens.
He rose at six, left home in his well-worn tracksuit and jogged across to Hyde Park, before setting out on a four-mile run around the Serpentine that took him less than twenty-five minutes. When he arrived back at the Prince Albert Memorial, he stretched for another fifteen minutes, before returning home in time to join Alice, Jojo and Jack for breakfast.
Beth had once joined Ross on the morning outing, and once had proved quite enough. She’d only caught back up with him as he finished his stretching. He then jogged home, while she continued to run, and even then she could only just keep up with him. Never again.
Beth rose early the morning following the Russian gala reception and left the house a few minutes after William had set out for the stadium. She took the tube to South Kensington and walked up Exhibition Road to Hyde Park. She sat on a bench some hundred yards from the entrance, which offered her a clear view of everyone who entered the park. Beth didn’t have long to wait before Ross appeared and set off at the same frightening pace towards the lake.
Once he was out of sight, Beth strolled across to join Prince Albert, where Ross would do his stretching. She began to question whether she should share her worst fears with William’s oldest friend, when she hadn’t raised the subject with her own husband.
