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Yours sincerely,
Fraser Munro, Solicitor
Da
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
"CAN YOU TAKE care of this while I'm away?" asked Nick, unfastening the silver chain from around his neck and handing it to Da
"Sure," said Da
"Let's just say I trust you more than most of the people I'm going to meet up with later today."
"I'm flattered," said Da
"No need to be," said Nick with a smile.
He looked at his reflection in the small steel mirror that was screwed into the wall above the washbasin. His personal possessions had been returned to him at five o'clock that morning, in a large plastic bag that hadn't been unsealed for four years. He would have to leave by six if he was to be in Scotland in time for the funeral.
"I can't wait," said Da
"For what?" asked Nick as he straightened his tie.
"Just to be allowed to wear my own clothes again."
"You'll be allowed to do that at your appeal, and once they overturn the verdict you'll never have to put on prison clothes again. In fact, you'll be able to walk straight out of the courtroom a free man."
"Especially after they hear ma tape," chipped in Big Al with a grin. "I think today's the day." He was about to explain what he meant when they heard a key turning in the lock. It was the first time they had ever seen Pascoe and Jenkins dressed in civilian clothes.
"Follow me, Moncrieff," said Pascoe. "The governor wants a word with you before we set off for Edinburgh."
"Do give him my best wishes," said Da
Nick laughed at Da
"Are ye talking to me?" asked Big Al.
Davenport 's phone was ringing, but it was some time before he emerged from under the sheets to answer it. "Who the hell is this?" he mumbled.
"Gibson," a
Davenport was suddenly awake. Gibson Graham only rang when it meant work. Davenport prayed it would be a film, another television role, or perhaps an advertisement-they paid so well, even for a voiceover. Surely his fans would still recognize the dulcet tones of Dr. Beresford.
"I've had an availability inquiry," said Gibson, trying to make it sound as if it was a regular occurrence. Davenport sat up and held his breath. "It's a revival of The Importance of Being Earnest, and they want you to play Jack. Eve Best's signed up to play Gwendolen. Four weeks on the road before it opens in the West End. The pay's not great, but it will remind all those producers out there that you're still alive." Delicately put, thought Davenport, although he didn't warm to the idea. He remembered only too well what it was like to spend weeks on the road followed by night after night in the West End, not forgetting the half-empty matinees. Although he had to admit that it was his first serious offer for nearly four months.
"I'll think about it," he said.
"Don't take too long," said Gibson. "I know they've already put a call in to Nigel Havers's agent to check his availability."
"I'll think about it," Davenport repeated, and put the phone down. He checked his bedside clock. It was ten past ten. He groaned, and slid back under the sheets.
Pascoe rapped gently on the door, before he and Jenkins escorted Nick into the office.
"Good morning, Moncrieff," said the governor, looking up from behind his desk.
"Good morning, Mr. Barton," Nick replied.
"You realize," said Barton, "that although you have been granted compassionate leave in order to attend your father's funeral, you remain a category-A prisoner, which means that two officers must accompany you until you return tonight. The regulations also state that you should be handcuffed at all times. However, given the circumstances, and in view of the fact that for the past two years you have been an enhanced prisoner, and that it's only a few months before you are due to be released, I'm going to exercise my prerogative and allow you to be uncuffed once you cross the border. That is, unless either Mr. Pascoe or Mr. Jenkins has reason to believe you might attempt to escape or commit an offense. I'm sure I don't have to remind you, Moncrieff, that if you were foolish enough to try to take advantage of my decision, I would have no choice but to recommend to the Parole Board that you should not be considered for early release on"-he checked Nick's file-"July seventeenth, but that you should serve your full sentence, another four years. Is that fully understood, Moncrieff?"
"Yes, thank you, governor," said Nick.
"Then there is nothing more for me to say other than to offer my condolences for the loss of your father, and to wish you a peaceful day." Michael Barton rose from behind his desk and added, "May I say that I am only sorry this sad event did not take place after you had been released."
"Thank you, governor."
Barton nodded, and Pascoe and Jenkins led their charge out.
The governor frowned when he saw the name of the next prisoner who was due to come in front of him. He wasn't looking forward to the encounter.
During the morning break, Da
Da
The obituary of Sir Angus Moncrieff Bt. MC OBE warranted half a page, even if it was the bottom half. Da
"See you later, Nick," said a voice, but the prisoner had already left the library before Da
Da