Drennan hoped so because so far he’d been nothing but trouble.
61
Wednesday. 6pm.
Andrew Griffin dipped his chin down into the woollen scarf he wore and hurried his pace but he felt unsettled enough by this meeting already to be too bothered about the temperature. He was both intrigued and agitated by what he was going to hear.
The neutral location suggested something clandestine, but as he trotted up the steps and into the lobby of the hotel he felt more comfortable in the anonymity that it might provide than in using a more public location. He could never have done this in the company offices.
He gave his name at reception and waited with a polite smile whilst the attractive blond girl behind the desk tapped a keyboard and watched a screen.
‘Five one four,’ she said and handed him a keycard.
Griffin thanked her and walked to the lift trying to remain composed, trying to fight the rising unease. He had no idea what he would be told or asked. Was there more to discover that he did not yet know or had he found out everything about his predecessors?
Griffin was nervous that things seemed to have gone quiet since the break-in. Though that did mean at least that nothing bad had yet happened that might threaten him or his company, neither did it rule such things out. He would rather have something tangible to deal with, a challenge to tackle. Waiting was pure frustration for Griffin but now perhaps he was finally going to find something out.
He hit the button for the fifth floor and loosened his coat and scarf. Already he was getting warm.
62
Wednesday. 6.15pm.
Campbell sat in the chair near the window and watched the evening gather over London. He wore a navy suit, the only one he owned that was tailored. It was an indulgence but he had decided to spend a little of his bonus a year before on getting a tailored suit so he could look good in important meetings and at the summer wedding of his boss.
In a clean, crisp white shirt and red silk tie Campbell had looked at himself in the mirror and was surprised at the little boost of confidence that it gave him. A simple thing but effective to look well-dressed and professional. Campbell wanted to make an instant impression and jeans and a sweatshirt was not the first thing he wanted the other man to notice about him. The black eye he could not hide but he could at least take the focus from it.
After a moment Campbell stood again, conscious that he might be creasing the suit or the shirt beneath, scared that the slightest detail might wreck his carefully laid plans. He was unable to sit still for more than a few minutes. He knew that his wait was almost over now but it did not ease his tension.
He ran through what he would say again, rehearsed his opening line quietly to himself but every time he spoke it was different; now strong and confident, now nervous and pleading, now challenging and with an edge of aggression. The wealth of information that he had taken in over the past two weeks and in the previous twenty-four hours fought for priority in his mind. Facts and figures were piled on top of each other and he was starting to feel that he didn’t know which was most important, what might be irrelevant. He worried that in his haste he would simply spew out the information in a stream rather than building the coherent and definite argument that he wanted to present.
He looked for a moment at the mini bar in the corner, wondered whether a stiff drink might bolster his shaking nerves but thought better of it. He needed a clear head and the smell of alcohol on his breath would hardly help his credibility.
There was subdued noise from beyond the hotel suite and the sounds of other guests opening and closing doors, of a television turned up too high in the next room. Campbell heard voices in the corridor which caught his attention although he was not expecting more than one person. Perhaps his guest had not come alone, he thought with alarm, but the voices passed and it was quiet again.
Campbell was not expecting a knock at the door — had in fact left instructions at the front desk to avoid that — but it came nonetheless. Campbell froze. He was here.
This was the door. Griffin looked along the corridor as two suited gentlemen talking noisily appeared and hurried past him toward the elevators.
He pulled the white plastic keycard from the envelope and checked the room number again, more of apprehension than uncertainty. He pushed the keycard into the slot and the light blinked green.
‘Hello?’ he said as he walked in and closed the door behind him. His view was impeded by the narrow hallway into the room and Griffin walked cautiously forward.
A smart looking man sat in an armchair near the window. At first Griffin did not recognise him in the subdued lighting of the room and he squinted as the man turned to him and stood.
‘Andrew. Thank you for coming.’
Griffin took the proffered hand and shook it.
‘Michael. How are you?’
‘Very well. And yourself? The family?’
Griffin simply nodded in response. ‘Is this all necessary?’ he said and gestured around the hotel room. ‘What is this about?’
‘I thought it better to keep things discreet. This is a sensitive matter.’
Griffin said nothing but simply waited for Horner to continue. His impatience was obvious.
‘Do take a seat Andrew. Can I get you a drink? I took the liberty of having a very good bottle of Bordeaux brought up.’
‘Mineral water please.’
‘Of course. Perhaps later.’
Griffin sat himself in the chair opposite the one that Horner had been sat in and waited for his drink. Horner appeared to be in no rush and Griffin felt his irritation climb. Pouring them a glass of water each Horner took care to position the glasses on the coasters that were set out on the table between the two chairs. He smoothed the fabric of his suit down across his lower back and eased himself down into the chair and then reached forward and sipped from his own glass.
Griffin thought he was deliberately delaying whatever it was he had to say but resisted the urge to prompt him.
‘I think I owe you an apology.’ Horner’s opening gambit was not what Andrew Griffin had expected to hear.
Griffin regarded the other man blankly for a moment. ‘I think at the very least you owe me an apology Michael. Others too.’
‘It was a very long time ago Andrew, my drives and ambitions were unfettered then by the wisdom and ethics one tends to develop with age. I was young, hungry and yes, ruthless too. I can admit that. I’m not especially proud of it Andrew but let he who is without sin cast the first, erm…’
The thought flashed through Griffin’s mind as Horner’s unfinished sentence hung in the air that the words had been carefully chosen. That he had failed to say the word ‘stone’ out loud not because he had thought better of what might be considered a reference to his shameful behaviour with the diamonds, but precisely because he wanted to put the thought in Griffin’s head. That he was mocking him.
‘Now might not be a good time to plead your innocence based on the collective guilt of mankind Michael. It insults us both and my sense of Christian charity is in rather short supply just now.’
Horner held up his hands in deference to Griffin’s simmering anger. ‘Of course I’m not suggesting that my own behaviour is in some way assuaged because others might too have strayed. I know that most people have not and would not do what I did given the opportunity. Indeed, if I had the choice to make again Andrew, I wouldn’t be so foolhardy as to repeat it.’
‘What an inspiration you are to us all. Even rats learn their lessons Michael. Now, would you mind explaining your purpose? Are you so vain as to drag me all the way here merely to attempt to convince me that you are somehow the erring child made good? That your ill-judged transgression needs only to be understood to be forgiven? Because I have to tell you Michael, I’m not in the mood to understand, let alone forgive when the future of my company, my livelihood and those of many valued and loyal staff hangs in the balance. What will you do then? When you have ruined all of us? Will you be cashing in those diamonds to help soften the financial impact on those that you showed so little regard for years ago?’