‘How much?’ Virginia repeated, aware of how little time she had before she needed to leave for Heathrow.
‘I consider one eighty would be a fair price.’
‘Two hundred, and you have a deal.’
Kalman hesitated for a moment before saying, ‘I would agree to that, my lady, and even go to two thirty, if you were able to tell me where the missing painting was.’
‘The missing painting?’
‘I’m in possession of an inventory of all the works the artist sold or gave to Mrs Mellor, but I haven’t been able to locate the Mill Lane Industrial Estate, which she gave to her son, and wondered if you had any idea where it is.’
Virginia knew exactly where it was but she didn’t have the time to travel down to Bristol and pick it up from Mellor’s office. However, one phone call to his secretary and it could be dispatched to the gallery immediately.
‘I accept your offer of two hundred and thirty, and will make sure that the painting is delivered to you in the next few days.’
‘Thank you, my lady,’ said Kalman, who returned to his desk, wrote out a cheque and handed it over.
Virginia folded it, dropped it in her handbag and gave the gallery owner an ingratiating smile, before turning and walking back out on to the Brompton Road and hailing a taxi.
‘Coutts in the Strand,’ she instructed the driver.
She was considering how she would spend her last night in London — Bofie had suggested Annabel’s — when the taxi drew up outside the bank.
‘Wait here,’ she said, ‘this shouldn’t take long.’
She entered the banking hall, hurried across to one of the tellers, took out the cheque and passed it across the counter.
‘I’d like to cash this.’
‘Certainly, madam,’ said the cashier before catching his breath. ‘I presume you mean you’d like to deposit the full amount in your account?’
‘No, I’ll take it in cash,’ said Virginia, ‘preferably fives.’
‘I’m not sure that will be possible,’ stammered the cashier.
‘Why not?’ demanded Virginia.
‘I don’t have £230,000 in cash, my lady.’
‘She’s willing to make an offer?’ said Ellie May. ‘But I thought she was penniless?’
‘So did I,’ admitted Lord Goodman. ‘I have it on good authority that she was cut out of her father’s will and her only income is a modest monthly allowance supplied by her brother.’
‘How much is she offering?’
‘One million pounds, to be paid in ten equal instalments of one hundred thousand pounds over the next ten years.’
‘But she stole two million from my husband!’ said Ellie May. ‘She can go to hell.’
‘I sympathize with your feelings, Mrs Grant, but when I received the letter I decided to have an off-the-record conversation with Sir Edward Makepeace QC, who has represented the Fenwick family for many years. He made it clear that this offer represents a full and final settlement, and there is, to quote him, no wiggle room. He added that were you to turn it down, he has been instructed to receive the writ on Lady Virginia’s behalf.’
‘He’s bluffing.’
‘I can assure you, Mrs Grant, Sir Edward does not bluff.’
‘So what do you think I should do?’
‘I can appreciate why you would want to be repaid in full. However, if we were to go down that path, it might take several years to reach a settlement, and as we now know, Lady Virginia has enough money to cover her legal costs, so you might end up with nothing to show for it other than a large legal bill of your own. I’m not convinced it’s her own money she’s putting up — I suspect she’s got her brother, the tenth earl, to bail her out. However, even Lord Fenwick will have his limits.’ Goodman hesitated. ‘And then we must consider all the other aspects of this case.’
‘Like what?’ asked Ellie May.
‘Were the action to come to court, Lady Virginia would be ruined financially, and might possibly end up in prison.’
‘Nothing would please me more.’
‘At the same time, your husband’s reputation would also suffer.’
‘How could that be possible, when he’s the innocent party?’
‘Clearly, Mrs Grant, you have not experienced the British press on the rampage.’
‘I have no idea what you’re talking about.’
‘Then let me assure you, this story would run and run in the tabloids and I fear your husband would not come out of it smelling of roses. The papers will paint him as a naïve fool, and a cuckold.’
‘Which is no more than the truth,’ said Ellie May scornfully.
‘Possibly, Mrs Grant, but is that something you want to share with the whole world?’
‘What’s the alternative?’ she demanded.
‘It’s my considered opinion that you should settle, unpalatable as that may seem. I suggest you accept the offer of a million pounds, return to America and put this whole unpleasant experience behind you. I would, however, suggest one proviso: should Lady Virginia fail to honour any of the ten payments, she would still be liable for the full amount.’ Lord Goodman waited for Ellie May’s response but she remained silent. ‘But you are the client, and naturally I will abide by your instructions, whatever they may be.’
‘My late Scottish grandfather, Duncan Campbell, used to say, “Better a dollar in the bank, lass, than the promise of a dowry.”’
‘Was he a lawyer, by any chance?’ asked Goodman.
‘It’s a damn good offer,’ said Knowles.
‘Perhaps a little too good,’ said Sloane.
‘What are you getting at?’
‘I am, as you know, Jim, suspicious by nature. Mellor might well be locked up in prison but that doesn’t mean he’s lying on his bunk all day feeling sorry for himself. Don’t forget Belmarsh houses some of the top criminals in the country, and they’ll be only too happy to advise a man they think has money.’
‘But like him, they’re all locked up.’
‘True, but just remember Mellor’s tried to stitch me up once before — and nearly succeeded.’
‘But this guy Sorkin is sending his private jet to pick us up so we can spend the weekend on his yacht at Cap Ferrat. What more could you ask for?’
‘I hate planes, and distrust people who own yachts. And what’s more, no one in the City has ever come across Conrad Sorkin.’
‘I could always go on my own.’
‘Absolutely not,’ said Sloane. ‘We’ll both go. But if I sense even for a second that Sorkin isn’t what he claims to be, we’ll be on the next flight back, and not in his private jet.’
When Virginia received a letter from her solicitor to confirm that Mrs Ellie May Grant had accepted her offer, she wasn’t sure how to react. After all, with £230,000 at her disposal, she could live a comfortable enough life swanning around Europe, staying with friends. But she admitted to Bofie that she would miss London, Ascot, Wimbledon, Glyndebourne, the royal garden party, the Proms, Annabel’s and Harry’s Bar, especially when all her continental buddies had migrated back to London for the season.
Although she had banked the cheque for £230,000 with Coutts, Virginia accepted that if she were to honour her agreement, the money would run out in a couple of years, and she wondered if she was simply postponing the inevitable trip to Argentina. But on the other hand, perhaps something else might turn up in the meantime, and she still had until April 13th before she had to make a final decision.
After changing her mind several times, Virginia reluctantly handed over the first £100,000 to her solicitor on April 13th, and at the same time cleared all her small debts, loans, and legal costs, leaving her with £114,000 in her current account. Her brother continued to supply her with an allowance of £2,000 a month, a sum that had dropped from £4,000 when she deserted Freddie. Virginia hadn’t read the small print in her father’s will. And if Archie ever found out about her windfall, she suspected he would cut her off without another penny.