‘Fascinating,’ said his father, when William came to the end of the story. ‘So you now need to find out who the mystery buyer is, and why he’s melting down silver that’s over a hundred years old.’
‘But we can’t even be sure that’s what he’s up to.’
‘Then what’s in it for him, unless he’s a rich eccentric collector? And if he was, he wouldn’t have given different names and addresses.’
‘Got any other ideas, Father?’
Sir Julian didn’t speak again until he had finished his soup. ‘Coins,’ he said. ‘It has to be coins.’
‘Why coins?’
‘It has to be something worth considerably more than the original silver, otherwise it doesn’t make any sense.’ Sir Julian pushed his empty soup bowl to one side and began to attack his salad. ‘What’s your other problem?’
‘Have you come across a QC called Booth Watson? And if so, what’s your opinion of him?’
‘Not a name to be mentioned in polite society,’ said Sir Julian, sounding serious for the first time. ‘He’ll happily bend the law to the point of breaking. Why do you ask?’
‘I’m investigating one of his clients—’ began William.
‘Then this conversation must cease, as I have no desire to appear in court with that particular man.’
‘That’s not like you, Dad. You rarely speak ill of your colleagues.’
‘Booth Watson is not a colleague. We just happen to be in the same profession.’
‘Why do you feel so strongly?’
‘It all began when we were up at Oxford and he stood for president of the Law Society. Frankly, I was only too willing to support any candidate who opposed him. After the man I proposed was elected, Booth Watson blamed me, and we haven’t passed a civil word since. In fact, that’s him over there, on the far side of the room. Eating alone, which is all you need to know about him. Don’t look, because he’d sue you for trespass.’
‘Who are you defending at the moment?’ asked William, changing the subject, while unable to resist glancing across the room.
‘A Nigerian chief who chopped up his wife and then posted various body parts to his mother-in-law.’
‘So you won’t be getting him off?’
‘Not a chance, thank God. In fact I’m thinking of giving up murder altogether. Agatha Christie got out just in time.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Poirot never had to contend with DNA, which is about to make it almost impossible to put up a reasonable defence for one’s client. No, in future I’m going to concentrate on fraud and libel. Longer trials, and better refreshers, and you’re still in with a fifty-fifty chance of winning,’ he said before wiping his mouth with a napkin.
William looked at his watch. ‘I ought to be going.’
‘Understood, but first, tell me how your social life is, because your mother’s bound to ask.’
‘A little more promising. I’ve met someone who I think’s a bit special. In fact I’m seeing her again tonight.’
‘Can I tell your mother?’
‘Please don’t say a word, otherwise she’ll want to invite us both to lunch on Sunday, and I haven’t prepared Beth for that particular ordeal yet.’
‘Mum’s the word,’ said Sir Julian, laughing at his own feeble pun.
As they left the dining room, William couldn’t resist taking another glance at Booth Watson, who was digging into the treacle tart.
‘Good to see you, my boy,’ said Sir Julian as they stepped out into the courtyard.
‘You too, Father.’ William smiled as he watched his father striding away. How much he owed him.