Page 64 of Next in Line

‘Why don’t I become your backer?’ said Christina. ‘That would allow you to deal at a higher level, and help me to assuage my guilt.’

Beth was silent for a few moments, still staring at the éclair, while Christina continued. ‘If you spotted something you knew was underpriced and could make a decent profit on, I’d be happy to put up the capital. With your expertise and my resources, we could both end up making a killing.’

‘That’s generous of you, Christina, but auction houses require you to put down ten per cent of the hammer price on the day of the sale, and to pay the balance within fourteen days. If I failed to do so, not only would I lose the picture but they wouldn’t deal with me again.’

‘Why should that be a problem?’

‘You haven’t exactly proved reliable in the past,’ Beth reminded her sharply.

Christina looked suitably chastened before saying quietly, ‘Would it help if I were to give you a hundred thousand in advance?’

Beth refused to believe the offer was real, but somehow managed, ‘What would you expect in return?’

‘Twenty-five per cent of the profits.’

‘There has to be a catch,’ said Beth, still not convinced.

‘There is,’ replied Christina, opening her handbag. She took out her cheque book and wrote a cheque for £100,000, madeout to Beth Warwick. ‘You’ll give me a third chance – or is it a fourth? – to prove whose side I’m on.’

Beth stared at the noughts, but was distracted when Christina began to remove the cakes from the stand, before wrapping them up in her napkin one by one.

‘What are you doing?’ said Beth, horrified.

‘You can share these with the children when you get home,’ said Christina, handing her the napkin.

‘But how do the management feel about that?’

‘They’ve got used to it,’ said Christina as she signalled to a waiter for the bill.

•••

The prisoner didn’t take his eyes off the young woman who was heading slowly towards him.

It wasn’t until Miles had seen a photo of Mai Ling that he’d considered the possibility she might be the daughter of his rival art collector, Mr Lee, a man who had outbid him several times in the past. He had therefore agreed to see her.

Mai Ling took the seat on the other side of the table. ‘Good afternoon, Mr Faulkner,’ she said as if she was joining him for tea at the Savoy rather than visiting him in a category A prison, with guards, not waiters scattered around the tables.

Faulkner nodded.

‘My father has been offered your art collection for one hundred million dollars, and wanted to be sure the seller had your blessing,’ said Mai Ling. Like her father, she didn’t deal in small talk.

It was some time before Miles recovered enough to reply. ‘Blessing isn’t the word I would have chosen. As I know your father to be a man of few words, you can tell him,never. But I would like to know who it was claiming to represent me?’

‘My father thought you might ask that question and, if you did, instructed me not to answer it.’

Miles accepted that bribery wouldn’t work with this young woman, and even the suggestion of a threat would have been counter-productive. He simply said, ‘Was it Booth Watson, or my ex-wife?’

Mai Ling rose from her place, turned her back on him and walked away without once looking back.

The duty officer looked surprised when Mr Faulkner’s guest left the visitors’ room only a few minutes after she’d booked in, and the lip-readers on the balcony were even more puzzled.

Faulkner had only one thought on his mind as he made his way back to his cell. His next visitor would have to be ex-superintendent Lamont.

•••

When Beth walked in the front door of their home, having had tea with Christina, she heard the phone ringing in the hall. She grabbed it, and was surprised to be greeted by a familiar voice she hadn’t heard for some time.

‘James,’ said Beth, ‘how lovely to hear from you.’

---