Not a Penny More, Not a Penny Less (35 page)
Read Not a Penny More, Not a Penny Less Online
Authors: Jeffrey Archer
Tags: #Securities fraud, #Mystery & Detective, #Revenge, #General, #Psychological, #Swindlers and swindling, #Suspense, #Thrillers, #Suspense fiction, #Fiction, #Extortion
“Is it true you are related to the Queen...?”
“I never met a real live lord...”
“I do hope you will invite us over to see
your castle...?”
“There are no castles in the King’s Road.”
James was more than relieved to see Anne.
“Darling, can you spare me a minute?”
James excused himself and followed Anne, but
they found it almost impossible to escape the crowd.
“Look,” she said.
“Quickly.”
James took the cheque.
“Good God–$250,000!”
“You know what I’m going to do with it, don’t
you?”
“Yes, darling.”
Anne hunted for Stephen, Adrian and Jean
Pierre, which was not easy as they were still hidden behind the pillar in the
far corner. She was eventually guided to the spot by the subdued but spirited
rendering of “Who wants to be a millionaire?” issuing from it.
“Can you lend me a pen, Stephen?”
Three pens shot out for her use.
She took the cheque from the middle of her
bouquet and wrote on its back, “Rosalie Brigsley–pay Stephen Bradley.” She
handed it to him.
“Yours, I believe.”
The three of them stared at the cheque. She
was gone before they could even comment.
“What a girl our James has gone and married,”
said Jean Pierre.
“You’re drunk, you frog,” said Adrian.
“How dare you, sir, suggest that a Frenchman
could get drunk on
champagne.
I demand satisfaction.
Choose your weapons.”
“Champagne corks.”
“Quiet,” said Stephen. “You’ll give
yourselves away.”
“Well now, tell me, Professor, what is the
latest financial position.”
“I’m just working it out now,” said Stephen.
“What?” said Adrian and Jean Pierre
together, but they were too happy to argue.
“He still owes us a hundred and one dollars
and twenty-four cents.”
“DISGRACEFUL,” said Jean Pierre. “Burn the
place down!”
Anne and James left to change, while
Stephen, Adrian and Jean Pierre forced down more champagne. The toastmaster
announced that the bride and groom would be leaving in approximately fifteen
minutes and requested the assembled guests to gather in the main hall and
courtyard.
“Come on, we’ll watch them go,” said
Stephen. The drink had given them new confidence and they took their places
near the car.
It was Stephen who heard Harvey say: “God
damn it. Do I have to do everything?” and watched him look around until his
eyes fell on the trio. Stephen’s legs turned to jelly as Harvey’s finger
beckoned him.
“Hey you, weren’t you an usher?”
“Yes, sir.”
“My only daughter is going to leave at any
moment and there are no flowers. God knows what’s happened to them, but there
are no flowers. Grab a car. There’s a florist half a mile down the road, but
hurry.”
“Yes, sir.”
Stephen turned and fled. Adrian and Jean
Pierre, who had been watching horrified, thinking that Harvey had at last
rumbled them, ran after him. When he reached the back of the house, Stephen
stopped by the most beautiful bed of roses. Adrian and Jean Pierre shot
straight past him, stopped, turned round staggered back.
“What the hell are you up to–picking flowers
for your own funeral?”
“It’s Metcalfe. Somebody forgot the flowers
for Anne and I have five minutes to get them, so start picking.”
“
Mes
enfants
, do you see what I see?”
The others looked up. Jean Pierre was
staring rapturously at the conservatory.
Stephen rushed back to the front of the
house, the prize orchids in his arms, followed by Adrian and Jean Pierre. He
was just in time to pass them over to Harvey before James and Anne came out of
the house.
“Magnificent. They’re my favorite flowers.
How much were they?”
“A hundred dollars,” replied Stephen,
without thinking. Harvey handed over two fifty-dollar bills. Stephen retreated,
sweating, to join Adrian and Jean Pierre behind the large crowd.
James and Anne fought their way through the
crowd. No man in the gathering could take his eyes off her.
“Oh, Daddy, orchids, how
beautiful.”
Anne kissed
Harvey. “You have made this the most wonderful day in my life...”
The Rolls Royce moved slowly away from the
large crowd, around to the back of the house, down the drive on its way to the
airport for James and Anne to catch the flight to San Francisco, the first stop
on the way to Hawaii. As the car glided around the house, Anne stared at the
empty conservatory and then at the flowers in her arms. James did not notice.
He was thinking of other things.
“Do you think they will ever forgive me?”
“I’m sure they will find a way, darling, but
let me into a secret. Did you really have a plan?”
“I knew you would eventually ask and...”
The car purred effortlessly along the
highway and only the chauffeur heard his reply.
Stephen, Adrian and Jean Pierre watched the
guests dispersing, most of them saying their good-byes to the Metcalfes.
“Don’t let’s risk it,” said Adrian.
“Agreed,” said Stephen.
“Let’s invite him out to dinner,” said Jean
Pierre. The other two grabbed him and threw him into a taxi.
“What’s that you have under your morning
coat, Jean Pierre?”
“Two bottles of Krug
dix-neuf cent soixante-quatre.
It seemed such a shame to leave them there on their own. I thought they
would get lonely.”
Stephen instructed the driver to take them
back to the hotel.
“What a wedding. Do you think James ever had
a plan?” asked Adrian.
“I don’t know, but if he has it will only
have to bring a dollar and twenty-four cents.”
“We should have retrieved the money he made
from his win on Rosalie at Ascot,” mused Jean Pierre.
After packing and signing out of the hotel,
they took another taxi to Logan International Airport and with some
considerable help from the British Airways staff, managed to board the plane.
“Damn,” said Stephen. “I wish we hadn’t left
without the dollar and twenty-four cents.”
O
nce on board, they drank the champagne Jean
Pierre had captured at the wedding. Even Stephen seemed content, although he
did occasionally revert to being a dollar and twenty-four cents short.
“How much do you imagine this champagne
cost?” teased Jean Pierre.
“That’s not the point.
Not
a penny more, not a penny less.”
Jean Pierre decided he would never
understand academics.
They spent most of the journey home in a
drunken slumber, with the occasional grunt from Stephen about the dollar and
twenty-four cents.
“Don’t worry, Stephen. I have every
confidence that James’s plan will bring in a dollar and twenty-four cents.”
Stephen would have laughed, but it gave him
a headache.
“To think that girl knew everything.”
On arrival at Heathrow, they had little
trouble in clearing customs. The purpose of the trip had never been to bring
back gifts. Adrian made a detour to W. H. Smith’s and picked up
The Times
and the London
Evening Standard.
Jean Pierre bargained
with a taxi driver about the fare to Central London.
“We’re not some bloody Americans who don’t
know the fare or the route and can be easily fleeced,” he was saying, not yet
sober.
The taxi driver grumbled to himself as he
nosed his black Austin towards the motorway. It was not going to be his day.
Adrian read the papers
happily,
He was one of those rare people who could read in a moving car. Stephen and
Jean Pierre both envied him and satisfied themselves by watching the passing
traffic.
“Jesus Christ.”
Stephen and Jean Pierre were startled. They
had rarely heard Adrian swear. It seemed out of character, as indeed it was.
“God Almighty.”
This was too much for them, but before they
could enquire, he began to read out loud:
“British Petroleum announced a strike in the
North Sea which is likely to produce 200,000 barrels of oil a day. It is
described by their chairman, Sir Eric Drake, as a major find. The British
Petroleum field is one mile from the so far unexplored Discovery Oil field and
rumours of a bid by BP have sent Discovery Oil shares to a record high of
$12.25 at the close of business.”
“
Nom de Dieu
,” said Jean Pierre.
“What do we do now?”
“Oh well,” said Stephen, “I suppose we’ll
have to work out how to give it back.”
H
ARVEY METCALFE Retired at sixty-five to
Lincoln, Massachusetts.
Estimated to be worth $25 million.
BERNIE SILVERSTEIN
Arrested,
extradited and
sentenced in Montreal to five years for fraud.
RICHARD ELLIOTT
Arrested,
extradited and
sentenced to two years for fraud.
ALVIN COOPER Arrested and later released on grounds of insufficient
evidence.
DAVID KESLER Turned Queen’s evidence and assisted the police in their
enquiries.
Now working for a small real estate firm in
Albuquerque.
DETECTIVE INSPECTOR CLIFFORD SMITH Promoted to Chief Inspector.
LORD AND LADY BRIGSLEY Farming successfully in Hampshire.
Six-month-old son, Hon. Charles Spencer Clarence, heir to the
title.
JEAN PIERRE LAMANNS Assistant Curator of the
Guggenheim Collection.
ADRIAN TRYNER Continues to make a profit diagnosing the diseases of the
rich.
ELSPETH MEIKLE Resigned to make way for Angeline Faubert.
STEPHEN BRADLEY Killed in an air disaster on
December 1, 1974 on a TWA flight out of Washington.
DISCOVERY OIL One small strike (50,000 barrels a day) and one large
strike (150,000 barrels a day) to date after joint participation with a major
oil company. The shares today stand at $1.2. [03 May 2002]
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