Not a Penny More, Not a Penny Less

“Just take care, Harvey. Do you know there are more specialists in our police force on fraud than there are for homicide?”

“You worry about your end, Jörg, and I’ll worry about mine. The day I get uptight about a few underpaid bureaucrats from Zürich who haven’t got any balls, I’ll let you know. Now, enjoy your lunch and watch the game. We’ll have a talk about the other account later.”

“Game to Mrs. King. Mrs. King leads by four games to love in the first set.”

“They’re very deep in conversation,” said Anne. “I can’t believe they’re enjoying the match.”

“He’s probably trying to buy Wimbledon at cost price,” laughed James. “The trouble with seeing the man every day is that one begins to have a certain respect for him. He’s the most organized man I’ve ever come across. If he’s like this on holiday, what the hell is he like at work?”

“I can’t imagine,” said Anne.

“Game to Miss May. Mrs. King leads by four games to one in the first set.”

“No wonder he’s so overweight. Just look at him stuffing that cake down.” James lifted his Zeiss binoculars. “Which reminds me to ask, darling, what have you brought for lunch?”

Anne dug into her hamper and unpacked a crisp salad in French bread for James. She contented herself with nibbling a stick of celery.

“Getting far too fat,” she explained. “I’ll never get into those winter clothes I’m supposed to be modeling next week.” She touched James’s knee and smiled. “It must be because I’m so happy.”

“Well, don’t get too happy. I prefer you thin.”

“Game to Mrs. King. Mrs. King leads by five games to one in the first set.”

“This is going to be a walkover,” said James. “It so often is in the opening match. People only come to see if the champion’s in good form, and I think she’ll be very hard to beat this year now she’s after Helen Moody’s record of eight Wimbledon championships.”

“Game and first set to Mrs. King by six games to one. Mrs. King leads one set to love. New balls, please. Miss May to serve.”

“Do we have to watch him all day?” asked Anne.

“No, we must make sure he returns to the hotel and doesn’t change his plans suddenly or anything silly like that. If we miss our chance when he walks past Jean-Pierre’s gallery, we may not get another one.”

“What do you do if he does decide to change his plans?”

“God knows, or to be more accurate, Stephen knows—he’s the mastermind.”

“Game to Mrs. King. Mrs. King leads by one game to love in the second set.”

“Poor Miss May, she’s about as successful as you are, James. How is the Jean-Pierre operation looking?”

“Awful. Metcalfe hasn’t been anywhere near the gallery. He was within 30 yards of the window today and marched off in the opposite direction. Poor Jean-Pierre nearly had heart failure. But we’re more hopeful of tomorrow. So far he seems to have covered Piccadilly and the top end of Bond Street, and the one thing we can be sure of with Harvey Metcalfe is that he’s thorough. So he’s almost bound to cover our bit of territory at one time or another.”

“You should all have taken out life insurance for $1 million, naming the other three as beneficiaries,” said Anne, “and then if one of you had a heart attack, the others would all get their money back.”

“It’s no laughing matter, Anne. It’s bloody nerveracking while you’re hanging around, especially when you have to wait for him to make all the moves.”

“Game to Mrs. King. Mrs. King leads by two games to love in the second set and by one set to love.”

“How about your own plan?”

“Nothing. Useless. And now we’ve started on the others I seem to have less time to concentrate on my own.”

“Why don’t I seduce him?”

“Not a bad idea, but you’d have to be pretty special to get £100,000 out of him, when he can hang around outside the Hilton or in Shepherd Market and get it for £30. If there’s one thing we’ve learned about that gentleman it’s that he expects value for money. At £30 a night it would take you just under fifteen years to repay my share, and I’m not sure the other three would be willing to wait that long. In fact, I’m not sure they’ll wait another fifteen days.”

“We’ll think of something, don’t worry,” said Anne.

“Game to Miss May. Mrs. King leads by two games to one and by one set to love.”