This Was a Man Read online

  At least the Sloane problem had been dealt with. He would write to Knowles and ask him to make a prison visit as soon as possible. Surely he would fall in line now that Sloane was no longer around to call the tune.

  A few more yards before he asked, “When and where?” He hoped he sounded confident.

  “Next Thursday. I’ll let you know the details after Tracie’s visit on Sunday. Just be sure that nice Lady Virginia doesn’t forget to bring her Swan and Edgar bag with her.”

  Mellor fell back and joined Sharp Johnny, who was as cheerful as ever, but then he only had nineteen days left to serve.

  15

  “I DON’T SUPPOSE you have ten thousand pounds you could spare?” said Mellor. Virginia wondered if he was joking until she saw the look of desperation in his eyes. “I have a short-term cash-flow problem,” he explained, “which can be resolved if only I’m given a little more time. But I need ten thousand quickly.” He glanced across the crowded room to where Nash was deep in conversation with his only ever guest. “Very quickly.”

  Virginia thought about the £111,000 she still had in her current account, and smiled sweetly. “But no one knows better than you, Desmond, I’m as poor as a church mouse. My brother gives me an allowance of two thousand a month, which is barely enough to live on, and the only other income I’ve had recently was the small amount of money I received following the sale of your mother’s house. I suppose I could let you have a thousand, and possibly another thousand in a month’s time.”

  “That’s good of you, Virginia, but it will be too late by then.”

  “Do you have any assets you could put up as collateral?” Virginia asked. Familiar words she’d heard her bank manager use whenever she was overdrawn.

  “My ex-wife ended up with our house in the country as part of the divorce settlement. I’ve put my flat in Bristol on the market. It’s worth about twenty thousand, and although someone has made an offer, contracts haven’t been exchanged.”

  “What about Adrian Sloane? After all, it wouldn’t be a large amount to him.”

  “That’s no longer possible,” said Mellor, without explanation.

  “And Jim Knowles?”

  Mellor thought for a moment. “I suppose Jim just might be willing to help if I put the flat up as collateral and there was something in it for him.”

  “Like what?”

  “To chair the company, cash, whatever he wants.”

  “I’ll get in touch with him the moment I get home, and find out if he’s willing to help.”

  “Thank you, Virginia. And of course there’ll be something in it for you.”

  Once again, Mellor looked across the room at Nash, who he knew would be taking instructions as to where the second instalment should be delivered. Never the same place twice, and never the same person, Nash had already explained.

  “But I’ll still need the ten thousand before Thursday,” Mellor said, turning back to Virginia. “And I can’t begin to tell you what the consequences could be if you fail.”

  “How often are you allowed to make telephone calls?”

  “Once a week, but I only get three minutes, and don’t forget the screws are listening to every word.”

  “Call me on Tuesday afternoon, around five o’clock. I should have seen Knowles by then, and I’ll do everything in my power to persuade him.”

  * * *

  “It’s all set up for Thursday,” said Nash, when Mellor joined him in the yard.

  “Where and when?” asked Mellor, unwilling to admit he didn’t have the money.

  “Trafalgar Square, between the fountains, twelve o’clock.”

  “Understood.”

  “Will it be the same bag lady?”

  “Yes,” said Mellor, hoping that Virginia had not only got the money, but would be willing to act as the intermediary once again.

  Nash looked at him more closely. “I hope you’ve given some thought to the consequences of not coming up with the second half of the payment.”

  “Not a problem,” said Mellor, who had thought of little else for the past week. He fell back and walked alone, wondering, praying, hoping, that Virginia had convinced Knowles to lend him the ten thousand. He checked his watch. In another five hours he’d know.

  * * *

  “Jim Knowles,” said a voice on the other end of the line.

  “Jim, it’s Virginia Fenwick.”

  “Virginia, how are you? It’s been a long time.”

  “Too long. But I’m about to make up for it.”

  “What do you have in mind?”

  “I have a little proposition that you just might find interesting. I don’t suppose you’re free for lunch?”

  * * *

  Virginia was sitting by the phone at five p.m. on Tuesday, well aware that she only had three minutes in which to deliver her well-prepared script. She had written out several bullet points to make sure she didn’t miss anything of importance. When the phone rang, she picked it up immediately.

  “7784.”

  “Hello, my darling, it’s Priscilla. I thought I’d give you a call and see if you’re free for a spot of lunch on Thursday?”

  “Not now,” said Virginia, slamming the receiver down. The phone rang again seconds later.

  “7784,” she repeated.

  “It’s Desmond. Have you been able to—” He clearly didn’t want to waste a second. She checked her first bullet point.

  “Yes. Knowles has agreed to loan you ten thousand against the flat in Bristol.”

  “Thank God,” said Mellor, breathing a deep sigh of relief that she could hear clearly.

  “But if you fail to pay him back the full amount within thirty days, he’s demanding extra collateral.”

  “Like what?”

  “Your shares in Mellor Travel.”

  “But they’re worth about a million and a half.”

  “Take it or leave it, if I remember his exact words.”

  Mellor paused for a moment, aware that his three minutes were fast running out.

  “I don’t have a lot of choice. Tell the bastard I accept his terms, and I’ll pay him back the moment the flat is sold.”

  “I’ll pass on the message immediately, but he won’t release the money until he’s seen your signature on the document that will transfer ownership of the shares to him should you fail to pay him back within thirty days.”

  “But how can I possibly sign it in time?” said Mellor, sounding desperate again.

  “Don’t worry. His lawyers have done all the paperwork, and it will be delivered to the prison later this evening. Just be sure you have someone looking out for it.”

  “Address the envelope to Mr. Graves. He’s my floor officer, and he’s already done me a couple of favors, so you can trust him. As long as he’s on duty tonight, I should be able to turn it around immediately.”

  Virginia made a note of the name, before checking her list again. “Where and when do I deliver the money?”

  “Thursday, twelve o’clock, Trafalgar Square. Your contact will be standing between the fountains. Just be sure you’re not late.”

  “Will it be the same woman?”

  “No. Look for a bald middle-aged man wearing a navy blazer and jeans.” Virginia made another note. “You’re a diamond,” said Mellor. “I owe you.”

  “Anything else I can do?”

  “No, but I’ll be sending you a letter that I need you to—”

  The line went dead.

  * * *

  Mr. Graves put down the phone in his office and waited for his instructions.

  “You’ll need to make sure you’re on duty when the document arrives at the prison gate later this evening.”

  “No problem. Not many officers volunteer for the night shift.”

  “And make sure Mellor signs the agreement, and that you witness his signature.”

  “What do I do then?”

  “Take it out with you when you come off duty and deliver it to the address Mellor writes on the