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“I suspect they’re both going in the same direction,” suggested the Hawk.
William had to dodge in and out of the bustling crowd heading for the door, while at the same time trying to keep an eye on Heath. Once he was outside in the corridor, he dashed toward the wide sweeping staircase, and didn’t stop running until he was out on the street, his eyes darting in every direction until he finally spotted a familiar figure climbing into the back of a Bentley.
“Damn,” said William. He began looking around in vain for a taxi, and once again stared at the parked car that hadn’t moved. To his surprise a motorbike screeched to a halt by his side.
“Jump on, sarge,” said Paul, handing him a crash helmet.
* * *
“Good to see you again,” said Faulkner, when Heath joined him in the back of the car.
“Let’s hope it’s for the last time,” said Heath, as the two men shook hands. “Because I don’t want to be dragged back into the witness box and have to explain how the drugs ended up in your statue, if I didn’t sell them to you.”
“You won’t be going back,” said Faulkner. “That’s the last thing I need.” He handed Heath two first-class tickets to Rio de Janeiro, a new passport, and a small attaché case. “By this time tomorrow, you and your girlfriend will be on the other side of the world, leaving the Crown with no choice but to drop the case, and my wife will finally be left with no choice but to sign her divorce papers.”
“Thanks to our mutual friend from Hampshire,” said Heath, as he opened the briefcase and stared down at twenty thousand pounds stacked in neatly wrapped cellophane packets. “You’ve certainly kept your side of the bargain,” he added. “Double what the fuzz were willing to pay me.”
“Worth every penny,” said Faulkner, “if it’s going to keep me out of jail and Christina unable to cause any more trouble. I can’t afford to hang about. I have to be back in my place by two o’clock, otherwise it will cost me a million pounds. Twenty thousand is one thing, a million is quite another.”
“Understood,” said Heath, as they shook hands a second time. “Good luck.”
“Thanks to you I don’t think I’ll need it. Eddie, take my friend to Heathrow, because I wouldn’t want him to miss his flight.”
* * *
“Can I offer you a stiff drink, Julian?”
“A bit early for me, m’lud, but yes, make it a double whiskey,” he said, as Booth Watson entered the room.
“Same for you, BW?”
“No, thank you, m’lud,” said Booth Watson, as he removed his wig. “I’m still trying to recover from what just happened out there.”
“You’re not going to pretend it came as a total surprise, are you?” said Julian, unable to hide the sarcasm in his voice.
“I was just as shocked as you,” admitted Booth Watson. “Have you forgotten that I called your office only last week to ask if you would consider making a plea bargain, and you turned my request down, quite eloquently if I remember correctly?”
“Perhaps I might reconsider…” began Sir Julian.
“It’s a bit late for that now,” said Booth Watson. “I suspect you’ve no choice but to pack up your tent, climb back on your camel, and move your caravan on to a new watering hole.”
“I shall take instruction from my masters at the CPS,” said Sir Julian, playing for time. “But I fear they may well agree with you and recommend that all the charges be dropped.”
“And you, BW?” asked the judge.
“Like Julian, I shall take instructions from my master.”
18
The silver-gray Bentley Continental drew up outside terminal three.
Heath appeared relaxed as he got out of the car clutching firmly onto the briefcase, his only piece of luggage. He was heading toward the terminal entrance when a motorcycle skidded to a halt in the no-parking zone.
“You go after him,” said Paul. “I’ll catch up.”
“I’ve seen that bike somewhere before,” said William, as he took off his helmet and pointed to a black Yamaha that had been dumped in the disabled parking area. “But where?”
“It passed us on the motorway,” said Paul. “The rider slowed down as he drew level with the Bentley, and looked in the back window before taking off again.”
