Page 26 of End Game

‘Where are you?’ asked William.

‘Parked in the large BP garage about a mile from the stadium.’

‘I’ll come to you,’ said William. ‘Stay put and I should be with you in about ten minutes, fifteen at the most.’

It was another twenty minutes before William turned up. His driver, Danny, pulled into the petrol station and parked the car behind the taxi.

Ross jumped out and joined William in the back seat. He didn’t waste any time before reporting the details of his unscheduled bicycle ride and the conclusion he had come to.

‘But what I want to know,’ said William, ‘is what does Faulkner stand to gain from all this?’

‘I think Beth was right all along: a rare Van Gogh masterpiece.’

William still wasn’t convinced. ‘Let us assume for a moment that Faulkner is working with the Russians,’ he said. ‘They will expect far more in exchange for a priceless Van Gogh than simply stopping a few spectators from being on time for the opening ceremony.’

‘To embarrass Britain? Make us look like a bunch of amateurs?’

William was still frowning. ‘There has to be more to it than that,’ he said. ‘There’s something bigger going on that we have to find out about, and prevent.’

‘Now we know what the innocent cyclists have in mind, we’ll have to stop them in their tracks.’

William nodded. ‘All right. Cyclists will have to be the first item on tomorrow’s agenda,’ he agreed, ‘and you may as well join us, as everyone in the team has already worked out why you’re no longer attached to traffic control. But before then,’ he added, ‘will I see you at the exhibition opening tonight?’

‘Wouldn’t miss it for the world,’ replied Ross. ‘And not only because I will be following Miles Faulkner all the way there.’

CHAPTER 9

19 July 2012 – 8 days to go

THERE WAS JUST ONE HOURto go until the opening ofThe Hermitage Comes to the Fitzmoleanexhibition, and Christina was staring at the packed rails of her three wardrobes.

‘I don’t know what to wear,’ she said.

‘That’s because you’re spoilt for choice,’ suggested Wilbur, as she turned around and straightened his bow tie.

‘Do you think Miles will turn up?’ she asked. ‘Beth and I rather suspect that he has designs on a particular Van Gogh painting that the Hermitage have lent us.’

‘Well, I’m sure he won’t be able to resist making an appearance,’ replied Wilbur, as she pulled a dress out of the second wardrobe.

Christina held it up for Wilbur to consider. ‘I think I’ll settle on this one.’

‘Why not?’ said Wilbur. ‘It’s the one you selected half an hour ago.’

‘Men are so lucky. After all, a dinner jacket’s a dinner jacket.’ Christina removed a stray white hair from her husband’s velvet collar.

‘Are you speaking tonight?’ he asked.

‘No, it’s Beth’s turn.’ Christina sighed. ‘Strange to think there won’t be many more nights like this. Well, at least not while I’m chairman.’

‘Are the board any nearer to selecting your successor?’ asked Wilbur, as he walked towards the door.

‘There are three candidates on the shortlist,’ said Christina, ‘but I took your advice and have not offered an opinion.’

‘It will be important for Beth to remain in place while a new chairman settles in,’ said Wilbur. ‘Any large organization requires continuity and stability. But for now, we can’t afford to be late. Remember, it will be you who’s expected to introduce the guests to the Russian Ambassador.’

‘What do I say if Miles is standing in line waiting to be introduced?’

‘You’ve told me several times that Miles never stands in lines,’ said Wilbur.