Cat O'Nine Tales (2006) Read online

  The following evening Henry made his way to the Hilton Hotel on Park Lane, arriving a few minutes after midnight. He was carrying an empty Gladstone bag in one hand and an umbrella in the other. After all, he had to look the part.

  The Westminster and City Conservative Associations annual ball was coming to an end. As Henry entered the ballroom, party-goers were beginning to burst balloons and drain the last drops of champagne from any remaining bottles. He spotted Angela seated at a table in the far corner, sorting out pledges, checks and cash before placing them in three separate piles. She looked up and couldn’t mask her surprise when she saw him. Angela had spent the day convincing herself that he didn’t mean it and, if he did turn up, she wouldn’t go through with it.

  “How much cash?” he asked matter-of-factly, even before she could say hello.

  “Twenty-two thousand three hundred and seventy pounds,” she heard herself saying.

  Henry took his time. He double-checked the notes before placing the cash in his battered bag. Angela’s calculation had proved to be accurate. He handed her a receipt for £19,400.

  “See you later,” he said, just as the band struck up “Jerusalem.” Henry left the ballroom as the words “Bring me my bow of burning gold” were rendered lustily and out of tune. Angela remained transfixed as she watched Henry walk away. She knew that if she didn’t chase after him and stop the man before he reached the bank, there could be no turning back.

  “Congratulations on another well-organized event, Angela,” said Councillor Pickering, interrupting her thoughts. “I don’t know how we’d manage without you.”

  ‘Thank you,” said Angela, turning to face the chairman of the ball committee.

  Henry pushed his way through the hotels swing doors and out onto the street, feeling for the first time that his anonymity was no longer a weakness but a strength. He could hear his heart beating as he headed toward the local branch of HSBC, the nearest bank with an overnight safe deposit. Henry dropped £19,400 into the safe, leaving £2,970 of the cash in his bag. He then hailed a taxi—another departure from his usual routine—and gave the cabby an address in the West End.

  The taxi drew up outside an establishment that Henry had never entered before, although he had kept their accounts for over twenty years.

  The night manager of the Black Ace Casino tried not to look surprised when Mr. Preston walked onto the floor. Had he come to make a spot-check? It seemed unlikely, as the company accountant didn’t acknowledge him but headed straight for the roulette table.

  Henry knew the odds only too well because he signed off the casino’s end-of-year balance sheet every April, and despite rent, rates, staff wages, security and even free meals and drinks for favored customers, his client still managed to declare a handsome profit. But it wasn’t Henry’s intention to make a profit, or, for that matter, a loss.

  Henry took a seat at the roulette table and saw red. He opened his Gladstone bag, extracted ten ten-pound notes and handed them across to the croupier, who in turn counted them slowly before he gave Henry ten little blue and white chips in return.

  There were a number of gamblers already seated at the table, placing bets of different denominations, five, ten, twenty, fifty and even the occasional hundred-pound golden chip. Only one punter had a stack of golden chips in front of him, which he was spreading randomly around the different numbers. Henry was pleased to see that he held the attention of most of the onlookers standing round the table.

  While the man on the far side of the table continued to litter the green baize with golden chips, Henry placed one of his ten-pound chips on red. The wheel spun and the little white ball revolved in the opposite direction until it finally settled in red 19. The croupier returned one ten-pound chip to Henry, while he raked in over a thousand pounds’ worth of golden chips from the gambler on the other side of the table.

  While the croupier prepared for the next spin of the wheel, Henry slipped his single chip in the left-hand pocket of his jacket, while leaving his original stake on red.

  The croupier spun the wheel again and this time the little white ball came to a halt in black 4, and Henry’s chip was raked in by the croupier. Two bets, and Henry had broken even. He placed another ten-pound chip on red. Henry had already accepted that if he was to exchange all the cash for chips, it would be a long and arduous process. But then Henry, unlike most gamblers, was a patient man, whose only purpose was to break even. He placed another ten pounds on red.

  Three hours later, by which time he had managed to exchange all £2,970 of cash for chips without anyone becoming suspicious, Henry left the table and headed for the bar. If any one had been following closely what Henry had been up to, they would have observed that he had just about broken even. But then that was his intention. He only ever meant to exchange all the surplus cash for chips before he could execute the second part of his plan.

  When Henry reached the bar, his Gladstone bag empty and his pockets bulging with chips, he took a seat next to a woman who appeared to be on her own. He didn’t speak to her and she showed no interest in him. When Angela ordered another drink, Henry bent down and deposited all of his chips into the open handbag she had left on the floor beside her. He was already walking toward the exit before the barman could take his order.

  The manager pulled open the front door for him.

  “I hope it won’t be too long before we see you again, sir.”

  Henry nodded, but didn’t bother to explain that the whole exercise was about to become part of a nightly routine. Once Henry was back outside on the pavement, he walked toward the nearest tube station, but didn’t start whistling until he’d turned the corner.

  Angela bent down and closed her bag, but not before she’d finished her drink. Two men had propositioned her earlier in the evening and she’d felt quite flattered. She slipped off her stool and walked across to join a short queue of punters at the cashier’s window. When she reached the front, Angela pushed the pile of ten-pound chips under the steel grille and waited.

  “Cash or check, madam?” inquired the teller, once he’d counted her chips.

  “A check please,” Angela replied.

  “What name should the check be made out to?” was the teller’s next question.

  After a moment’s hesitation, Angela said, “Mrs. Ruth Richards.”

  The cashier wrote out the name Ruth Richards, and the figure, £2,930, before slipping the check under the grille. Angela checked the figure. Henry had lost £40. She smiled, remembering that he had assured her that over a year it would even out. After all, as he had explained often enough, he wasn’t playing the odds, but simply exchanging any traceable cash for chips, so that she would end up with a check which no one would later be able to trace.

  Angela slipped out of the casino when she saw the manager chatting to another customer who had clearly lost a large sum of money. Henry had warned her that the management keeps a much closer eye on winners than losers, and that as she was about to embark on a long and profitable run she shouldn’t draw attention to herself.

  One of Henry’s stipulations was that there should not be any contact between the two of them, other than when he came to collect the takings, and then again for that brief moment when he deposited the chips into her open bag. He didn’t want anyone to think that they might be an item. Angela reluctantly agreed with his reasoning. Henry’s only other piece of advice was that she should not be seen collecting the cash herself during any function.

  “Leave that to the volunteers,” he said, “so that if anything goes wrong, no one will suspect you.”

  There are one hundred and twelve casinos located across central London, so Henry and Angela didn’t find it necessary to return to any particular establishment more than once a year.

  For the next three years, Henry and Angela took their holidays at the same time, but never in the same place, and always in August. Angela explained that not many organizations hold their annual events in that particular month. During t