Nothing Ventured (Detective William Warwick 1)

‘I rather fancy living with an assistant keeper of paintings, even if I’m not sure what they do.’

‘I’ll be responsible for organizing special events, like the Van Eyck exhibition next month, and I’ll report directly to Mark Cranston, the keeper.’

‘With a rise in salary?’

‘Not so you’d notice. But to be fair, I didn’t even know I was being considered for the position.’

‘Your parents will be so proud of you,’ said William.

‘I phoned my father last night to tell him the good news.’

William was surprised, but didn’t comment.

‘And I have another piece of news: Jez is leaving me.’

‘For another man?’

‘Yes, he’s moving in with his friend Drew, so I’ll be looking for a new lodger. And before you ask, the answer is no.’

22

WILLIAM AND BETH left the house together on Monday morning. The new assistant keeper of paintings wanted to be early on her first day, and William needed to write his report on the trip to Italy.

They parted company outside South Kensington tube station, before Beth went on to the museum by foot. William thought about the weekend they had spent together. It couldn’t have gone better, and he was now more keen than ever for Beth to meet his parents. He had asked her if she could join them for lunch on Sunday but she had once again put him off, explaining that she had already promised to visit a friend in hospital that afternoon, and didn’t feel she could cancel at such short notice. Perhaps next Sunday, William had suggested. And then something flashed into his mind that should have worried a detective long before now. He would double-check the postcards from Hong Kong when he got back to the flat tonight.

When William walked into the office he was surprised to find no sign of either Lamont or Jackie. He sat down at his desk and began to write his report, thinking he must remember to call Monti and thank him, because without his back-up and assistance, Carter would have cashed in his chips and now be living off his ill-g

otten gains.

At 8.55, William picked up the Carter file, walked down the corridor and knocked on the commander’s door. Angela waved him through to the inner sanctum, where he found Lamont and Jackie already seated at the table, listening intently to the commander.

Hawksby nodded at William as he took his usual place next to Jackie.

‘I spent most of my weekend taking calls from the chief constable of Surrey, and a Superintendent Wall of the Guildford Police,’ said Hawksby. ‘And I can tell you, neither of them minced their words. Incompetent, unprofessional, amateur were among the kinder ones. The chief constable warned me that if I didn’t brief the assistant commissioner by midday, then he would. And I can’t say I blame him.’

‘I’m the one to blame, sir,’ said Jackie quietly. ‘I was convinced my contact was on the level, and ended up being the one who was taken for a ride.’

‘Along with twenty-six police officers, not to mention an elite firearms squad, a helicopter crew on standby, and an irate superintendent whose job is now on the line.’

Neither Lamont nor Jackie attempted to defend themselves.

‘And if that wasn’t enough,’ Hawksby continued, ‘it turned out to be nothing more than an elaborate decoy, because while you were sitting waiting for the villains to appear, they were breaking into another house just a few miles away, where they stole a Renoir worth several million. Leigh knew only too well you were listening in on his phone conversations, and simply sent you to the wrong house, where you thought they were going to steal a Picasso. Don’t be surprised when Booth Watson settles another large insurance claim for his unknown client.’

William could see that Jackie was struggling to control her emotions.

‘There’s no one else to blame,’ she repeated, looking directly at Hawksby.

The commander closed his file, and William assumed he would move on, but then he said, ‘Why didn’t you follow the basic rule every copper learns on their first day on the beat? Accept nothing, believe no one and challenge everything.’ William would always remember the person who’d first told him that. ‘Perhaps your recent promotion was a step too far, DS Roycroft,’ Hawksby continued. ‘A few weeks on traffic duty might not do you any harm.’ At least she’d got that right.

A long silence followed, which was finally broken when Lamont said, ‘I understand your fishing trip to Italy couldn’t have gone better, sir.’

‘Except as the commissioner pointed out that when Carter is eventually arrested, it will be the Italian police, and not the Met, who end up getting the credit for an operation we masterminded.’

‘But if we were to find the missing Rembrandt, and return it to the Fitzmolean—’ said William, trying to rescue his colleagues.

‘Let’s hope that’s not another false alarm,’ said Hawksby. ‘Are you still having lunch with Mrs Faulkner today?’

‘Yes, sir. I’ll report back to DCI Lamont as soon as I return this afternoon.’