A Prisoner of Birth (70 page)

He needed to be in court by ten o'clock, when the judge would pass sentence on his aggravated burglary case. His client would probably end up with a two-year sentence, despite the fact that he had asked for twenty-three other offenses to be taken into consideration.

Craig dabbed on some aftershave as he thought about the charges Cartwright would end up facing: escaping from Belmarsh while impersonating another prisoner, theft of a stamp collection worth over fifty million dollars, falsifying checks on two bank accounts, with at least twenty-three other offenses to be taken into consideration. Once the judge had considered that lot, Cartwright wouldn't be seeing the light of day until he was eligible for his old-age pension. Craig suspected that the girl would also end up facing a long spell behind bars for aiding and abetting a criminal. And once they found out exactly what Cartwright had been up to since escaping from prison, no one would be talking about offering him a pardon. Craig was even beginning to feel confident that the Lord Chancellor would be calling him back again and this time he would be offered a dry sherry, while the two of them discussed the decline of English cricket.

"Wur bein followed," said Big Al.

"What makes you think that?" asked Danny.

"I spotted a car following us yisterday. Now it's there again."

"Take a left at the next junction and see if he stays with us."

Big Al nodded, and without indicating, suddenly swung left.

"Is he still following us?" asked Danny.

"Naw, he drove straight on," said Big Al, checking his rearview mirror.

"What type of car was it?"

"A dark blue Ford Mondeo."

"How many of those do you imagine there are in London?" asked Danny.

Big Al grunted. "He wis following us," he repeated as he turned into The Boltons.

"I'm going for a run," said Danny. "I'll let you know if I see anyone following me."

Big Al didn't laugh.

"Cartwright's chauffeur spotted me," said Payne, "so I had no choice but to drive on and keep out of sight for the rest of the day. I'm on my way to the hire company to exchange the car for a different model. I'll be back on duty first thing tomorrow morning. But I'm going to have to be more careful in future because Cartwright's driver is good. My bet is that he's ex-police or army, which means I'll need to change my car every day."

"What did you just say?" asked Craig.

"I'm going to have to change—"

"No, before that."

"Cartwright's driver must be police or army trained."

"Of course he is," said Craig. "Don't forget that Moncrieff's driver was locked up in the same cell as him and Cartwright."

"You're right," said Payne. "Crann, Albert Crann."

"Better known as Big Al. I've got a feeling that Detective Sergeant Fuller is going to end up with a royal flush—king, queen and now jerk."

"Do you want me to go back this evening and double-check?" asked Payne.

"No. Crann may well turn out to be a bonus, but we can't risk him working out that we're onto them. Keep well out of their way until tomorrow afternoon, because you can be sure that Crann will now be on the lookout for you. Once he drops Cartwright off at the house and leaves to pick up the girlfriend, that's when I think you'll find Cartwright'll go for his run."

As Danny walked down the corridor he was greeted by Professor Mori, who was talking to students who were sitting their exams.

"A year today, Nick," he said, "and it will be your turn to take your finals." Danny had quite forgotten about how little time he had left before his exams, and didn't bother to tell the professor that he had no idea where he would be a year today. "When I'll be expecting great things of you," added the professor.

"Let's hope I live up to your expectations."

"Nothing wrong with my expectations," said Mori, "although you're typical of someone who gets himself educated outside of the mainstream and then imagines he has a lot of catching up to do. I think you'll find, Nick, that when the time comes to take your exams, you'll have not only caught up, but overtaken most of your contemporaries."

"I'm flattered, professor," said Danny.

"I don't do flattey," said the professor as he turned his attention to another student.

Danny marched out onto the street to find Big Al holding open the back door of his car. "Anyone been following us today?"

"Naw, boss," said Big Al, climbing behind the wheel.

Danny didn't let Big Al know that he thought it was quite possible that someone was following them. He wondered how much time he had left before Craig stumbled across the truth, if he hadn't done so already. Danny only needed a couple more days before his probation would be completed, and then the whole world would know the truth.

When they drew up outside The Boltons, Danny jumped out and ran into the house.

"Do you want some tea?" Molly asked as he bounded up the stairs.

"No thanks, I'm going for a run."

Danny threw off his clothes and put on his running kit. He had decided to go on an extended run as he needed time to think about his meeting with Alex Redmayne the following morning. As he ran out of the front door, he saw Big Al making his way down to the kitchen, no doubt to grab a cup of tea with Molly before he left to pick up Beth. Danny jogged off down the road in the direction of the Embankment, a flood of adrenaline being released after sitting on his backside and listening to lectures for most of the day.

As he ran past Cheyne Walk he avoided looking up at Sarah's apartment, where he knew her brother was now living. If he had done so, he might have spotted another man he would have recognized standing by an
open window taking a photograph of him. Danny continued toward Parliament Square, and when he passed the St. Stephen's entrance to the House of Commons he thought about Payne and wondered where he was now.

He was standing on the opposite side of the road focusing his camera, trying to look like a tourist taking a picture of Big Ben.

"Did you get a half-decent photograph?" asked Craig.

"Enough to fill a gallery," replied Payne.

"Well done. Bring them over to my place now, and we can have a look at them over dinner."

"Pizza again?" said Payne.

"Not for much longer. Once Hugo Moncrieff pays up, we'll not only finish off Cartwright, but make a handsome profit at the same time, which I'm fairly confident wasn't part of his long-term plan."

"I'm not quite sure what Davenport has done to deserve his million."

"I agree, but he's still a bit flaky, and we don't need him opening his mouth at the wrong time, especially now he's living with Sarah. See you soon, Gerald."

Craig put the phone down, poured himself a drink and thought about what he was going to say before he called the man he'd been looking forward to having a word with all week.

"Could I speak to Detective Sergeant Fuller?" he said when the phone was answered.

"Inspector Fuller," said a voice. "Who shall I say is calling?"

"Spencer Craig. I'm a barrister."

"I'll put you through, sir."

"Mr. Craig, it's been a long time since I've heard from you. I'm unlikely to forget the last occasion you called."

"Nor me," said Craig, "and that's the reason I'm phoning this time,
inspector
—many congratulations."

"Thank you," said Fuller, "but I find it hard to believe that's the only reason you called."

"You're right," said Craig, laughing. "But I do have a piece of information that might make your promotion to chief inspector even quicker."

"You have my full attention," said Fuller.

"But I have to make it clear, inspector, that you didn't get the information from me. I'm sure you'll understand why, once you discover who's involved. And I'd rather not talk about it over the phone."

"Of course," said Fuller, "so where and when would you like to meet?"

"The Sherlock Holmes, twelve-fifteen tomorrow?"

"How appropriate," said Fuller. "I'll see you there, Mr. Craig."

Craig put the phone down and thought he'd make one more call before Gerald turned up, but just as he picked up the phone, the doorbell rang. When he opened the door he found Payne standing under the porch, grinning. He hadn't seen him looking so pleased with himself for some time. Payne walked straight past Craig without uttering a word, marched into the kitchen and spread six photographs out on the table.

Craig looked down at the images and immediately understood why Payne was so smug. Just above the knee on Danny's left leg was a scar from a wound that Craig remembered inflicting, and although the scar had faded, it was still clear to the naked eye.

"That's all the evidence Fuller will need," said Craig as he picked up the kitchen phone and dialed a number in Scotland.

"Hugo Moncrieff," said a voice.

"Soon to be Sir Hugo," said Craig.

"A
S YOU KNOW
, Nicholas, this will be our last meeting."

"Yes, Ms. Bennett."

"We have not always seen eye to eye, but I do feel that we have both come through the experience unscathed."