***

The lawyer had gone and Hickstead was pacing around the room. He was livid. Tomorrow he would strike some sort of deal with the police, the hostages would be released, and then he would get his payback.

They would be made to pay for betraying him. The former Prime Minister would be first on his list.

Alan Parsons had been contacted by the leader of the Labour Party in the Lords, who had said that they expected Arthur to resign if he was charged. He then reminded Alan of the changes to the legislation relating to their Lordships, currently being discussed; legislation that the Labour Party had commenced in 2009.

Arthur read the text once more.

The Baroness has today put forward proposals for new rules that include the ability to expel Members of the House of Lords from their duties if they are guilty of an offence, and she has said that in the cases that we know about, she is prepared to bring forward emergency sanctions to deal with those issues.

The underlining had been provided by the Party apparatchiks.

Arthur would get his deal and defy his party. If the whole house wanted to vote to suspend him, so be it, but it wouldn’t be so easy when they heard that he had walked away from Scotland Yard with a Conditional Caution.

Chapter 82

Highbury Clinic, Blackstock Rd, North London. Sunday, 8pm.

A bright young woman from Vastrick Security had delivered some clean clothes and a suit from my flat. She also brought Dee a couple of outfits. That was a little optimistic, as I didn’t think Dee would need them for a while yet. I was also informed that a new door had been fitted to my flat, courtesy of Vastrick, and that it had a seven lever security lock. I took the key for my new front door. The young woman kissed the sleeping Dee’s forehead and took a second to arrange her hair before departing.

Don Fisher had gone home with his tail between his legs after a tongue lashing from the redoubtable Mrs. Fisher. I could tell that she was a rock journalist by her extensive vocabulary of swear words. There was a time in the verbal tirade when she had used up her entire vocabulary of expletives, and she’d had to resort to foreign swear words.

Having heard this through the wall, I was more than a little scared when she came into Dee’s room. I stood up nervously. Maddie Fisher was still a good looking woman, and when she smiled she looked quite stunning.

“You must be Josh,” she said in a matter-of-fact way, taking hold of my chin between her thumb and forefinger, turning my head from side to side as if examining a racehorse. “Mmm. Lavender was right, you are a handsome boy.”

I hadn’t been a boy for close to twenty years, but who was I to argue with such an icon of good taste?

Maddie spoke to a smiling, and awake, Dee for a few minutes, and then said to me in conspiratorial tones, “Josh, if the arrangement Don made with Dee isn’t generous enough, let me know. Don can be a tight bugger if he isn’t watched.”

Dee said she would see Maddie in the morning, and wished her goodnight. Maddie responded in kind and added, “Oh, I almost forgot. Lavender said she wanted my opinion as to whether Josh was a good kisser.”

She walked towards me, put her manicured hand on my cheek, and said, “Just kidding.” I relaxed visibly, and she kissed me anyway.

“Mmm. Not bad,” she said, winking at Dee, who would laugh her stitches out if she wasn’t careful.

I yawned so widely that my jaw almost locked. I kissed Dee, and lay down on the sofa bed that the nurse had made up for me. I lay on my side and looked at Dee as she looked at me. I closed my eyes for a few seconds, and suddenly it was morning.

Chapter 8 3

New Scotland Yard, London. Monday, 10:30am.

The team that had parted on Friday afternoon had now reconvened. Alan Parsons was sitting next to Lord Hickstead, and opposite was Inspector Boniface and DCI Coombes.

We were watching from a room down the corridor via CCTV. When I say we, I mean myself, Don Fisher, Tom Vastrick, the two Detective Sergeants and an interloper, Lavender Fisher.

When I had been waiting for the car to take us to Scotland Yard, Don Fisher joined me on the kerb. A second or two later someone linked my arm, and I looked around to see Lavender linking arms with us both and grinning from ear to ear.

“The doctor said I could go, and Mum thought it was a good idea.”

I was about to ask a question when Don Fisher said, “Don’t ask, Josh. It isn’t worth it.”

So now here we were, the six of us, in a semi darkened room, looking at our tormentor.

***

After the necessary procedural niceties, DCI Coombes got straight down to business.

“Lord Hickstead, I trust you had a relaxing weekend. Ours was rather hectic.”

“Yes, you mentioned to me on Saturday that my Citysafe box wasn’t as Citsyafe as I’d thought it was. I understand its contents were stolen,” the peer smiled.

“Quite a coincidence, I think you will agree.”

Alan Parsons interjected before Lord Hickstead could respond.

“Come now, Chief Inspector, you can’t be suggesting that my client robbed his own box, surely?”

“Luckily for your client, Mr Parsons, we can only prosecute on evidence,” Coombes stated. “What I believe or do not believe is neither here nor there.”

“If we could set the animosity aside for a few moments, perhaps we could discuss how this case is to proceed,” Parsons continued irritably. “I have spoken with my client and, faced with the evidence, whilst he admits nothing, he understands that there is a possibility he would be convicted of the Hammond blackmail, but I think we would all have to concede that there was at least reasonable doubt about the other charges.”

“What are you suggesting?” Coombes asked.

“Well, we could reach some kind of agreement, to save ourselves and the courts a lot of inconvenience. Perhaps his Lordship might plead guilty to a lesser charge, and the CPS could be persuaded that my client was emotionally disturbed when he acted as he did, trying to recover money he believed he had been entitled to. We could then look at a suspended sentence, perhaps some probation, and keep the whole thing off the front pages of the tabloids.”

Coombes and Boniface whispered to one another as if considering the offer, and Hickstead smiled. Boniface looked at them and spoke.

“We would have to consult with the two alleged victims, to ask them if they could accept these terms because, although it isn’t necessary, we don’t want any action taken against the police.”

“Unusual but entirely understandable,” Parsons replied reasonably.

“As a matter of fact, they are in the building at this very moment. Perhaps we could bring them in?”

“Absolutely not!” Parsons spluttered. “That is a disgraceful suggestion. You are suggesting exposing my client to his accusers, who will naturally assume his guilt!”

“Oh, quiet down, Alan,” Lord Hickstead said. “I think I’m man enough to face my accusers. I’ve been facing up to my opponents since I was twelve. I say let them in, and we can see what they have to say.” His smile was wider now.

Alan Parsons strongly advised his client against it, but he was silenced by His Lordship.

***

I had never before seen Lord Hickstead in person, and when I did it was not a pleasant experience. Despite his despicable actions, and the pain he had inflicted on everyone, he sat smirking beside his lawyer. Don Fisher was standing next to me, the very model of restraint. I knew that Don would happily have squeezed the life out of the peer, given the chance.

As rehearsed, the two policemen explained to us what a deal meant and how it would be final. They concluded by saying that they would proceed on all charges unless we said otherwise.