Not a Penny More, Not a Penny Less

“Cash check, so nobody can trace the money back to Mr. Metcalfe. We can’t have those bloody men from Cambridge chasing him for the rest of his life. Same way as we did for Sir David—no fuss.”

“I agree,” said Jean-Pierre, not having the vaguest idea what James was talking about. Neither, for that matter, had Harvey.

James nodded to Stephen, who left the Vice-Chancellor’s office and made his way to the porter’s room to inquire if a parcel had been left for Sir John Betjeman.

“Yes, sir. I don’t know why they left it here. I’m not expecting Sir John.”

“Don’t worry,” said Stephen. “He’s asked me to pick it up for him.”

Stephen returned to find James holding forth to Harvey on the importance of keeping his donation as a bond between himself and the university.

Stephen undid the box and took out the magnificent gown of a Doctor of Letters. Harvey turned red with embarrassment and pride as Robin placed it on his shoulders, chanting some Latin, which was nothing more than his old school motto. The ceremony was completed in a few moments.

“Many congratulations,” bellowed James. “A pity we could not have organized this to be part of today’s ceremony, but for such a munificent gesture as yours we could hardly wait another year.”

Brilliant, thought Stephen. Laurence Olivier could not have done better.

“That’s fine by me,” said Harvey, as he sat down and made out a check to cash. “You have my word that this matter will never be mentioned to anyone.”

None of them believed that.

They stood in silence as Harvey rose and passed the check to James.

“No, sir.” James transfixed him with a glare.

The others looked dumbfounded.

“The Vice-Chancellor.”

“Of course,” said Harvey. “Excuse me, sir.”

“Thank you,” said Robin, his hand trembling as he received the check. “A most gracious gift, and you may be sure we shall put it to good use.”

There was a loud knock on the door. They all looked around terrified except for James, who was now ready for anything. It was Harvey’s chauffeur. James had always hated the pretentious white uniform with the white hat.

“Ah, the efficient Mr. Mellor,” said Harvey. “Gentlemen, I guarantee he’s been watching every move we’ve made today.”

The four froze, but the chauffeur had clearly made no sinister deductions from his observations.

“Your car is ready, sir. You wanted to be back at Claridge’s by 7 P.M. to be in good time for your dinner appointment.”

“Young man,” bellowed James.

“Yes, sir,” whimpered the chauffeur.

“Do you realize you are in the presence of the Vice-Chancellor of this university?”

“No, sir. I’m very sorry, sir.”

“Take your hat off immediately.”

“Yes, sir.”

The chauffeur removed his hat and retreated to the car, swearing under his breath.

“Vice-Chancellor, I sure hate to break up our party, but as you’ve heard I do have an appointment…”

“Of course, of course, we understand you’re a busy man. May I once again officially thank you for your most generous donation, which will be used to benefit many deserving people.”