Nothing Ventured

‘It’s not the Rembrandt I’m worried about.’

‘I’m glad to hear it.’

‘Thank you for your help, sir,’ said William, before putting down the phone.

He must have sat there for over an hour, trying to make some sense of it. He now understood why there were no photographs of Beth’s father in the flat. And when she had told him that she’d called her parents in Hong Kong just after he’d arrived back from Rome, she’d obviously forgotten that it would have been the middle of the night in the Far East. He now wished he’d looked at the back of those postcards. His thoughts were interrupted when the door opened and Hawksby looked in.

‘I saw a light under the door,’ he said, ‘and thought I’d just check.’

William looked up at his boss, tears streaming down his face.

‘What’s wrong, William?’ asked Hawksby, sitting down next to him.

‘How long have you known?’

Hawksby didn’t reply immediately. ‘Since the theft of the Rembrandt, we’ve done regular background checks on everyone who works at the Fitzmolean, and her father’s name popped up. I discussed the problem with Bruce after you started seeing her, and we both assumed she must have told you about her father.’

‘I’ve only just found out.’

‘I’m very sorry,’ said Hawksby, placing a hand on his shoulder. ‘We all know how you feel about her, and Jackie warned us that it could be serious.’

‘I’ve just discovered how serious,’ said William. ‘Now I don’t know what to do.’

‘If I were advising you, I’d suggest you tell your father everything. He’s a shrewd and thoughtful man, and one thing’s for sure, he won’t just give you the answer you want to hear.’

‘Do you remember the case, sir?’

‘Not well, but I do recall the two officers involved, Stern and Clarkson. DI Stern retired soon after the trial ended, and frankly it wasn’t a day too soon. But now you know, what are you going to do about it?’

‘Go home and wait for Beth to get back from Pentonville.’

‘Why not go straight to the prison? Be there when she comes out, so you can take her home.’

William didn’t answer, just sat staring into the distance as if he hadn’t heard him.

‘And if you’re going to make it in time,’ added Hawksby, looking at his watch, ‘you’d better get a move on.’

‘Of course you’re right, sir,’ said William. He jumped up, grabbed his coat and dashed towards the door, only turning back to say, ‘Thank you.’

Once he was out on the street, William hailed the first taxi he spotted.

‘Where to, guv?’

‘Pentonville prison.’

‘That’s all I need,’ mumbled the cabbie as William climbed in the back.

‘What’s the problem?’

‘There couldn’t be a worse journey for a cab driver.’

‘How come?’

‘If you take someone to Pentonville, you never get a return fare, because most of them are in for life!’ William laughed, which he wouldn’t have thought possible only a few minutes ago. ‘Are you checkin’ in or just visitin’?’

‘Picking up my girlfriend.’

‘I didn’t know there were women prisoners at Pentonville.’