Nothing Ventured - Page 20

‘So which artists should I be looking out for now, remembering my salary?’ William asked.

‘Diana Armfield, Craigie Aitchison, and Sydney Harpley. You’ll find them all in the RA’s Summer Exhibition.’

William made a note of the names.

Over lunch William had jokingly suggested that they substitute a few grains of sand from Blackpool beach for the moon dust, as he was confident that the American under-secretary wouldn’t know the difference. Talbot had laughed, but pointed out that his opposite number at the Smithsonian certainly would, even though he’d probably never been to Blackpool.

William finally opened his RA magazine to check which exhibitions were coming up that he couldn’t afford to miss. He selected three, circled them and put the dates in his diary: Picasso, the early years; Hockney’s California or bust; and the annual Summer Exhibition at the RA, where he would check out the three artists Dr Talbot had recommended. But they were all quickly forgotten when he turned the page to find that Dr Tim Knox, the director of the Fitzmolean, would be giving a lecture on the history of the museum, followed by a guided tour, in a couple of weeks’ time. Tickets were five pounds, and only fifty people would be admitted. He wondered if Mrs Walters would consider that a legitimate expense. Either way, he wasn’t going to miss it.

William didn’t sleep that night, although his only companion was a locked briefcase. He would have liked to tear up both copies of the release form, but he accepted that the Americans would get their way in the end.

William didn’t go straight to Scotland Yard the following morning, but took the tube to Green Park, before walking across to New Bond Street. He was standing outside the auction house long before a porter opened the doors at nine o’clock.

Melanie Clore studied Dr Talbot’s signature carefully, and compared it to the one on the sale document, before she was willing to part with lot nineteen. She then disappeared to collect the phial from its safe, returning a few minutes later.

William couldn’t believe it when he saw the phial for the first time. It was smaller than his little finger. He wrapped it in a tissue before putting it back in the box. More forms to sign before he could leave and make his way to Grosvenor Square. He climbed the steps of the American embassy fifteen minutes later and reported to a marine sergeant on the front desk. He asked to see Mr Underwood.

‘Do you have an appointment, sir?’

‘No,’ he said, producing his warrant card.

The marine pressed three buttons on his phone, and when a voice came on the line he repeated William’s request.

‘I’m afraid the under-secretary is in a meeting at the moment, but he could fit Mr Warwick in at four this afternoon.’

‘Tell him I’ve got his moon dust,’ said William.

He could hear a voice saying, ‘Send him up.’

William took the lift to the fourth floor, to find the under-secretary standing in the corridor waiting for him. They shook hands before Underwood said, ‘Good morning, detective,’ but didn’t speak again until he’d closed the door of his office. ‘You move quite quickly for an Englishman.’

William didn’t respond, but opened his briefcase and took out the little box. He opened it, unwrapped the tissue slowly, and like a conjurer, revealed the phial of moon dust.

‘That’s it?’ said Underwood in disbelief.

‘Yes, sir,’ said William as he handed over the cause of so much trouble.

‘Thank you,’ said Underwood, placing the box on his desk. ‘I’ll be sure to get in touch with you again should any other problems arise.’

‘Not unless someone’s stolen one of your nuclear warheads,’ said William.

8

‘CAN I CLAIM five pounds on expenses to attend an art lecture at the Fitzmolean?’

‘Is it directly connected to a crime you’re investigating?’ asked Mrs Walters.

‘Yes and no.’

‘Make up your mind.’

‘Yes, it is connected to a crime I’m investigating, but I must admit I would have gone anyway.’

‘Then the answer is no. Anything else?’

‘Can you get me a ticket for the opening night of the new James Bond film?’ William waited for the explosion.

‘Is it directly connected to a crime you are working on?’

Tags: Jeffrey Archer Mystery
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