Give The Devil His Due

by H G White

  ‘Mmm, you’re right, I can see that. I'll read through these tonight.’

  ‘I'm sorry Peter, but we can’t leave our research with anyone. By all means go through everything while we’re here, but as I'm sure you'll understand, the reason nobody else has come to you with this proposal is because we've maintained absolute secrecy throughout the exploratory work. We must continue to insist on that. It’s vital this information stays private. It could ruin the whole opportunity if others were to realise what’s afoot – you must appreciate this.’

  Was this the same fucking idiot that left his bundle lying about the house only for Tegan to pick up? I had to hand it to him. Fairburn could lie for Britain!

  ‘Don't you trust me Neil?’ He sounded slightly offended.

  ‘Peter, once we have a firm commitment from you, that’ll take our relationship to quite a different level altogether. As I told you earlier, there are risks involved here and the fewer people who know about this matter, the better.

  ‘Think about it. What if we left these papers with you and someone, a visitor maybe, sees them while you're called away to the phone or answering the door? These things can happen believe me. Five hundred million is not chicken feed. If we're going to go ahead with this, you have to believe in us and our professionalism.’

  ‘Are you saying I'm in danger?’ Now he sounded frightened.

  ‘No, I'm not saying that. At this moment in time, no one else knows about this, and that's the way we want to keep it.’

  Peter was thinking hard. We sat there drinking tea while Peter started going through the papers again. We'd now been there for nearly two hours. Phil was probably getting quite agitated, but then tough tits – he'd just have to sit it out. We were playing for high stakes here.

  Suddenly, two raised voices, both female, were coming from somewhere else in the house. A door slammed. Peter stopped reading and got up, distracted. Damn!

  ‘Listen, thank you for coming. If you can just give me tonight … we'll speak in the morning.’

  ‘No problem at all.’ Neil picked up the bundle and Peter showed us out of the study. As we made our way towards the front door I could hear someone sobbing in the kitchen. I hoped whatever else was going on in the Steadman household wasn't going to make Peter lose sight of the bigger picture.

  As we walked to the car Peach said, ‘So what do you think then Neil?’

  ‘Don't know. I'm obviously hoping he'll go for it, but if he doesn't … perhaps it’ll be time to play hardball.’

  ‘Meaning?’

  ‘Maybe tell him we're going to post the research to De Villiers.’

  Peach was shaking his head. ‘No, I think even if he doesn't commit tomorrow we should still give him time.’

  ‘I don't mean that we will post it, only that we'll threaten to.’

  It was time for me to put a word in. ‘Well, I don't think we could’ve really done any better than we did in that meeting. It's a lot to expect somebody to suddenly hear such a massive proposal and then commit themselves to a contract immediately.’

  Neil agreed. ‘Yeah, you're right Will. What did you make of that set-to going on in the background?’

  ‘Not sure. Could be a row with one of the neighbours?’

  Peach looked unconvinced. ‘No I don't think so. But whatever it was, it certainly took Peter's mind off things.’

  He was right, matters were now out of our hands and in the lap of the gods. We arrived back at the car. Phil was snoozing, head leaning against the window. Peach slapped the glass with palm of his hand. ‘Wakey, wakey Sleeping Beauty.’

  Phil woke with a start. ‘Fuck you! I knew I shouldn't have come. How long have you been in there?’

  ‘A couple of hours.’

  ‘Did he sign then?’

  Peachy looked at him. ‘I could tell you, but I'd have to kill you.’

  ‘Stop pissing about Peach. Did he sign?’ Phil was getting understandably irritated.

  ‘No, he's going to give us an answer in the morning.’

  ‘Does that mean it's back to yours for the night?’ Peach paused for thought.

  ‘Well I think that would be the sensible thing to do. I haven't got much food in though.’

  Neil said, ‘How about we grab something on the way and eat it when we get back to the boat?’ It was a no-brainer.

  Chapter 13

  Athena's Table was a restaurant that didn't do take-aways but, for a select few of its regular patrons, it would make an exception to the rule. Mr Kozen was a frequent visitor and qualified for this special treatment and it showed in the food that was prepared for us. It was splendid. None of your common or garden Saturday night kebab shop crap. This was the Real McCoy. It made me feel like booking a holiday to Greece. They even had a couple of live musicians playing bouzoukis, no piped Demis Roussos Greatest Hits here.

  Phil felt the need to point out to the girl taking our order, that Athena was the goddess of wisdom, war and justice. And so, in the interest of accuracy the place should really have been called Demeter’s Table after the goddess of the harvest. The girl looked a bit embarrassed. Peach had a quiet word in Phil’s ear, the result of which was Phil didn’t feel like pointing anything else out.

  While we were in the restaurant I phoned Tegan. I’d left Pugs with her, and now that we wouldn't be back till Thursday afternoon, I thought it best to let her know what’d happened. She wanted to hear how the meeting had gone. I told her it was impossible for me to discuss it, and so she’d hear the full story when I got back. She was a bit miffed but there was a time and a place for everything, and this was neither the time nor place, especially with Peach within earshot. I hung up the payphone and viewed my surroundings. You couldn't help but admire this restaurant. It really was something out of the ordinary. I made a mental note that next time we were at Peachy's for a proper weekend we should visit this eatery for a no-holds barred sit-down.

  Peachy’s boat was fast becoming a home-from-home for us all. As we boarded her with our late-night feast I checked my watch. Just past eleven. It’d been a long day. We decided to have a few glasses with our food.

  ‘What's the plan for tomorrow then Peach?’ I asked.

  ‘We'll give him till 10.30 a.m. then Neil can phone.’

  It was agreed. We carried on talking until about 1 a.m.

  ***

  The following morning we were up with the lark. Would he or wouldn't he? I felt really jittery. If the others felt the same way, they were doing a good job of hiding it. A green light from Peter Steadman would mean that Peach would have to lend Neil and me clean shirts and ties. We promised he'd get them back in the freshly-laundered state that he’d supplied them and settled down to wait for the momentous event of contract-signing – hopefully.

  It had just gone five to eight. I decided what the hell – I would put Peachy’s shirt on anyway as a part of my positive-thinking regime. Just as I was wondering whether or not I could cope with another two and a half hours of this, Peachy's mobile phone sprang into life.

  ‘You'd better answer. If it's him and he still hasn't made up his mind, go easy.’ Peach handed it to Neil.

  ‘What if he has and it's a negative?’

  ‘Do whatever you think best.’ I didn't know whether this was good advice from Peach, but it was too late to put forward any other alternative.

  Neil answered. ‘Hello.’ We couldn't hear what was being said on the other end, because Neil had the phone tight to his ear.

  ‘Yes Peter. Good of you to get back to us so soon. Have you come to a decision?’

  Peter definitely had plenty to talk about, but Neil's expression was giving nothing away. ‘I see. Yes, of course that goes without saying.’

  What went without saying? Give us a thumbs up or a thumbs down Neil, you wanker. Neil started pacing up and down the boat while talking, all the while staring at the floor.

  ‘Mmm, I understand Peter, I understand ...’ If Fairburn didn't start giving us some indication of how things were going
and soon, one thing he'd certainly understand was the meaning of a sharp, full-force contact between my right knee and his bollocks!

  ‘Absolutely. You have my word on it, not a problem. If that should change please let me know. Goodbye then Peter.’ The call ended he handed the phone back to Peach.

  He was looking pretty glum.

  ‘Well, it's bad news I'm afraid.’

  Our hearts sank, at least mine did. I can only guess Phil, and Peach especially, were feeling similarly traumatised.

  ‘What did he say then?’ I asked.

  ‘He said that at this moment in time, there's no way he could sign.’

  There we had it. He'd made his mind up and we'd blown our chance. All the effort Peach had put in, all our hopes and dreams, and what for? A big, fat – nothing. I'd even forked out on that celebratory bottle of Cava that we'd drunk at Tegan's! I started to take the shirt off that Peachy had lent me.

  Phil wanted to know more. ‘What put him off signing?’

  ‘Mainly the fact that he's got an appointment at 9.30 with a consultant at his local hospital that he's waited five months for and he doesn't want to miss it.’

  ‘Sorry, could you elaborate please?’

  ‘He did say at this moment there was no way he could sign. But he also said if we call round the house just before midday, he'll sign it then.’

  ‘You are the world's biggest anus, do you know that Fairburn?’

  ‘What? You're handing over your title without putting up a fight Will?’ Neil was smirking. He'd had his fun. I don’t know whether his keeping us in suspenders was premeditated or whether it was a spur of the moment thing. It didn't matter. All that mattered was Mr Steadman had made up his mind, and reasoned in our favour.

  ***

  When we finally signed the contract with Peter, it felt almost anticlimactic. It was as though there was a telepathic connection, at least among Neil, Phil (who was once again sitting in the car while we put pen to paper because he had already signed his part) and me, with the transmitted message being something along the lines of ‘Well that's that, where do we go from here?’.

  The initial feeling of elation that’d formerly enveloped us had worn off. During the earlier part of the morning, when Neil broke the news of Peter's pledged allegiance to our small but elite task force, we’d been miles high. Now we would have to look to our spiritual leader, the Reverend Peach, to guide us forward.

  As we drove away from the housing estates of faceless suburbia and headed in the direction of Heathrow airport for Peach to get on the Underground, it was indeed the senior archivist who decided what our next move should be.

  ‘I suggest we all meet next Friday at Phil's. The week's breathing space will give you guys a chance to make up some of the money you've lost over the last fortnight. It'll also provide me some useful time to finalise my plan for the retrieval.’

  This was good news. Neil and I needed to get some wonga in – and fast. The bills weren't going to stop arriving just because we had the go-ahead to hunt for the note.

  Peach continued. ‘We'll keep in touch on a day-to-day basis via phone and email. Now Peter knows all about this, he may not be able to keep it under wraps for very long and could end up telling someone. And that, I don't need to remind any of you, could of course spell disaster for all of us.’ Hearing this I cringed. It certainly wasn't something Neil or I needed reminding about. Peach was now pointing his index finger at us.

  ‘I see you stand like greyhounds in the slips, straining upon the start, but take heed my dear friends; haste is our enemy and complacency its accomplice. We must boldly go, where others have already been, and never believe that we are masters of totality, for we are not.’

  His speech was becoming ever more rousing. Perhaps he'd been rehearsing, perhaps he hadn’t, but whichever way you looked at it, the timing was absolutely spot-on. Just as he emphasised the for we are not part, I pulled up outside the airport. Opening the car door he delivered the final part of his motivational address.

  ‘Goodbye gentlemen, and remember, “to the victorious: the spoils”.’

  He strode away from the car, briefcase in hand, not looking back.

  I turned to Neil. ‘Has he been doing drugs or something?’

  ‘I dunno. Don't think so, sounded to me like he’s back on the Star Trek books again.’

  Phil butted in. ‘When we got up this morning, I noticed the box for Henry V on top of the video.’

  ‘Oh that'll be it then,’ I said. ‘Peachy doesn't need our help in finding a long-lost document. He needs us to take on the fucking French at Agincourt!’

  Neil laughed. ‘You can't blame him Will; he's just enthusiastic that's all.’

  Although in his mind King Peachy the First was probably firmly entrenched on the battlefields of northern France. In actual fact, he was sitting on the tube slowly making his way back to central London. By contrast, I was now blasting up the M4 in the opposite direction post-haste, ready for Denise's dinner party. In my dreams!

  The reality – I was crawling at a snail's pace through roadwork contraflows. I don't know who had the most vivid imagination, Peach or me. I just had to hope things would ease up soon.

  We were in luck. As time passed, the further away from London we travelled, the traffic decreased and our speed increased, as did the excitement that was once again starting to creep back into our heads at the thought of what lay ahead in the coming days and weeks.

  Chapter 14

  Thursday 5 p.m. South Wales

  It was late afternoon when we arrived back. Winter was definitely upon us. The dark and the cold weren't enough to revive me, I needed a shower after the long drive home. If he fancied, Neil could have one when I nipped over Tegan's to find out what time the festivities were taking place.

  Clean and refreshed I crossed the street, knocked the door and waited for an answer. A few moments later, there she stood smiling. I’d half-expected her to have a sulk on after my refusal to discuss the outcome of our initial meeting with Steadman, but her smile was an indication that she’d got over it.

  I think she must’ve realised that however keen she might be to hear every little detail that took place in pursuit of the note, it was our quest and not hers. She’d have to wait for information rather than demand it. At least that's what I hoped. I leant forward and gave her a kiss.

  ‘Has he been a good boy for you?’ I asked.

  ‘Yes, very. How was the drive back?’

  ‘Slow. I was hoping we'd have been back sooner. We could've had an afternoon on the beach with the dogs and then walked up to Denise's for dinner.’

  It was true; a generous measure of fresh sea air would've done us both a world of good. It was too dark to enjoy the beach now. We'd just have to make do with the dinner.

  ‘That reminds me. Denise said we can bring the dogs and stay over if we want?’

  ‘I shouldn't think her landlord will be happy with that.’

  It was one thing to take the dogs there for a couple of hours while we had dinner, quite another for them to stay the whole night, especially if they barked and yapped their way through it. The ultra-posh neighbours would be on the phone and Denise would not be flavour of the month.

  ‘What are you talking about? Denise's father owns the property. He's a vet, he expects her to have pets, and besides the house is going to end up being hers in the long term anyway.’ I reinstated my previous thought that vets charge too much for their services and decided to let her make the decision in whether or not to take the dogs.

  ‘Tegan it's your call.’

  ‘Yeah let's do it. We don't have to get a cab back tonight and we can take them for an early morning walk on the seashore. It'll be really romantic.’

  ‘OK. You've twisted my arm. So what time are we going over?’

  ‘As soon as you're ready, whenever that is?’

  What was this? A woman who had prepared herself to go out before us! Had the world gone mad?

  ‘Neil's just
having his shower. How does twenty minutes time grab you?’

  ‘Fine’

  ‘Ok, I'll get over to mine and hurry him up a bit.’ I wandered back across the street. There was no sign of Dave. I hoped he hadn't developed mental problems over the Tegan issue. About twenty-five minutes later the three of us plus two dogs were en route chez Denise.

  Tegan asked, ‘So put me out of my misery. Did he sign?’

  ‘Never mind did he sign. Have you told Denise?’

  ‘No of course I haven't.’

  ‘Mmm, the jury's out on that one. As for him signing, I'm not at liberty to divulge that sort of information.’

  ‘Oh come on Will, stop being a prick.’

  ‘Bit of a tall order for him that one, I'm afraid Tegan.’ Neil’s interjection, in my view, was that of a half-wit.

  ‘Excuse me Neil! Is this a private conversation or can anyone join in?’

  ‘Anyone can join in and what's more, I think Neil is probably right there, Will.’

  ‘Oh well, if you're both going to sit here insulting me I'll definitely keep the information to myself.’

  Neil had to tell her. ‘He did sign Tegan.’

  ‘Thank you. At least someone here is decent human being.’

  Neil started to milk it. ‘I certainly am, and if I was your boyfriend I wouldn't have treated you like that, especially after you’d taken care of the dog. Some people just do not know how lucky they are!’

  ‘Yes you're right again Neil. I think I'm going to have to teach this young man a lesson he'll never forget.’ Oh dear, that sounded worrying.

  ‘And what form will this lesson take, might I ask?’

  ‘I haven't decided yet, but you'll know, when it happens, believe me,’

  She pinched my left thigh quite hard; an inch or two to the right and there would have been an opportunity for me to tell my crushed nuts? No, laryngitis joke. We were nearing Denise's house.

  As we arrived, I turned to Tegan. ‘You are not to discuss it in there, OK?’