He vaulted over the cemetery gates and dropped down onto the pavement. Amanda was standing by the car. He ran towards her, hugging her close, wiping away the tears that rolled down her cheeks, feeling her body shudder.
“He went for the deal? Agreed to leave us alone?” Amanda asked, her eyes looked at him searchingly through the tears. Jack shrugged awkwardly.
“Sort of. It’s fine. We’re fine.” He said, not meeting her gaze, not wanting to tell her what he’d done.
“And the others, the ones watching the street, they won’t come after us when they wake up?” Jack bit his lip.
“I’d be very surprised if they did,” he said grimly.
Epilogue
Brooke and Hall Solicitors, Grays Inn Square, London
Four weeks later
Jack sat stiffly in the upright wooden chair, a curiously musty smell mingling with the polish from the wood-panelled walls. The reassuring tick of a grandfather clock in the corner of the room.
He was surprised his father had appointed such a traditional and expensive firm of solicitors to be the executors of his estate, even more surprised he’d bothered to write a will at all.
“Your father only recently appointed us, and he only recently drafted his last will and testimony.” The solicitor had said. A grey-haired cobweb of a man with remarkably bright blue eyes. He spoke slowly and carefully, a faintly patronising tone to his voice, as if the young man in front of him would be confused by legal terms.
“His business dealings in the last few years generated a considerable sum of money and it was his intention that his estate pass directly and fully intact to you, his son. To that end he set up a number of financial trusts for which this firm, Brooke and Hall, is the trustee,” the solicitor took off his spectacles and peered at Jack, his tone confiding.
“There are various tax laws that impose a rather onerous burden on estates of this size. Your father prudently sought to side step as many of those as he could. Perfectly legal, you understand. But rather complex to manage.” Jack nodded, he didn’t really understand, couldn’t imagine his father had left him anything more than a couple of thousand pounds.
Two hours later, after a lengthy reading of the will and further explanations of the financial circumstances he had inherited, Jack stepped into the bright sunlight. He felt dazed, stunned. Seven and a half million pounds. Accumulated by his father in his drunken stock market dealings. Either he was very lucky, or very good. Maybe a bit a both. He was certainly reckless enough to take big risks. Jack smiled to himself, at least the old man had found something outside the army he was good at. Shame it wasn’t till after mum left.
Amanda was waiting for him outside, lit from behind, a halo of light around her blond hair, she was stunningly beautiful.
“How did it go?” She asked, smiling at him speculatively. “Is it lunch at the Ritz or a fry-up at a greasy spoon?” He laughed.
“Ritz I suppose. For breakfast, lunch and dinner. Quite a tidy sum the old man left.” He paused, “I think we should go on a trip to celebrate, an Easter break. I’ve always wanted to drive across America,” he said, wrapping his arm around her shoulder. “How does that grab you?”
Over lunch at a nearby pub he explained his plans. Amanda listened attentively. His enthusiasm took her by surprise, he seemed more excited about the trip than the inheritance. He kept mentioning Beverley Hills and how he’d like to spend a few days there, take in the sights. She was pretty sure there wasn’t much to see in that part of Los Angeles, but she didn’t want to disappoint him, and his eyes took on a peculiar intensity when he mentioned it.
She was right to be concerned. The enthusiasm that filled Jack wasn’t for the holiday. It wasn’t for the money he’d inherited. He was thinking about something Monsieur Blanc had told him, about Centurion. Where they were based. The head offices on Wiltshire Boulevard. He had some unfinished business he wanted to take care of.
Connect with Diversion Books
Connect with us for information on new titles and authors from Diversion Books, free excerpts, special promotions and contests, and more:
Twitter: @DiversionBooks
Facebook: www.Facebook.com/DiversionBooks
eNewsletter: Diversion Books eNewsletter
Decoy Page 27