A Prisoner of Birth

by Jeffrey Archer

  ‘Let’s hope I live up to your expectations.’

  ‘Nothing wrong with my expectations,’ said Mori, ‘although you’re typical of someone who gets himself educated outside of the mainstream and then imagines he has a lot of catching up to do. I think you’ll find, Nick, that when the time comes to take your exams, you’ll have not only caught up, but overtaken most of your contemporaries.’

  ‘I’m flattered, professor,’ said Danny.

  ‘I don’t do flattery,’ said the professor as he turned his attention to another student.

  Danny marched out on to the street to find Big Al holding open the back door of his car. ‘Anyone been following us today?’

  ‘Naw, boss,’ said Big Al, climbing behind the wheel.

  Danny didn’t let Big Al know that he thought it was quite possible that someone was following them. He wondered how much time he had left before Craig stumbled across the truth, if he hadn’t done so already. Danny only needed a couple more days before his probation would be completed, and then the whole world would know the truth.

  When they drew up outside The Boltons, Danny jumped out and ran into the house.

  ‘Do you want some tea?’ Molly asked as he bounded up the stairs.

  ‘No thanks, I’m going for a run.’

  Danny threw off his clothes and put on his running kit. He had decided to go on an extended run as he needed time to think about his meeting with Alex Redmayne the following morning. As he ran out of the front door, he saw Big Al making his way down to the kitchen, no doubt to grab a cup of tea with Molly before he left to pick up Beth. Danny jogged off down the road in the direction of the Embankment, a flood of adrenalin being released after sitting on his backside and listening to lectures for most of the day.

  As he ran past Cheyne Walk he avoided looking up at Sarah’s apartment, where he knew her brother was now living. If he had done so, he might have spotted another man he would have recognized standing by an open window taking a photograph of him. Danny continued towards Parliament Square, and when he passed the St Stephen’s entrance to the House of Commons he thought about Payne and wondered where he was now.

  He was standing on the opposite side of the road focusing his camera, trying to look like a tourist taking a picture of Big Ben.

  ‘Did you get a half-decent photograph?’ asked Craig.

  ‘Enough to fill a gallery,’ replied Payne.

  ‘Well done. Bring them over to my place now, and we can have a look at them over dinner.’

  ‘Pizza again?’ said Payne.

  ‘Not for much longer. Once Hugo Moncrieff pays up, we’ll not only finish off Cartwright, but make a handsome profit at the same time, which I’m fairly confident wasn’t part of his long-term plan.’

  ‘I’m not quite sure what Davenport has done to deserve his million.’

  ‘I agree, but he’s still a bit flaky, and we don’t need him opening his mouth at the wrong time, especially now he’s living with Sarah. See you soon, Gerald.’

  Craig put the phone down, poured himself a drink and thought about what he was going to say before he called the man he’d been looking forward to having a word with all week.

  ‘Could I speak to Detective Sergeant Fuller?’ he said when the phone was answered.

  ‘Inspector Fuller,’ said a voice. ‘Who shall I say is calling?’

  ‘Spencer Craig. I’m a barrister.’

  ‘I’ll put you through, sir.’

  ‘Mr Craig, it’s been a long time since I’ve heard from you. I’m unlikely to forget the last occasion you called.’

  ‘Nor me,’ said Craig, ‘and that’s the reason I’m phoning this time, inspector – many congratulations.’

  ‘Thank you,’ said Fuller, ‘but I find it hard to believe that’s the only reason you called.’

  ‘You’re right,’ said Craig, laughing. ‘But I do have a piece of information that might make your promotion to chief inspector even quicker.’

  ‘You have my full attention,’ said Fuller.

  ‘But I have to make it clear, inspector, that you didn’t get the information from me. I’m sure you’ll understand why, once you discover who’s involved. And I’d rather not talk about it over the phone.’

  ‘Of course,’ said Fuller, ‘so where and when would you like to meet?’

  ‘The Sherlock Holmes, twelve fifteen tomorrow?’

  ‘How appropriate,’ said Fuller. ‘I’ll see you there, Mr Craig.’

  Craig put the phone down and thought he’d make one more call before Gerald turned up, but just as he picked up the phone, the doorbell rang. When he opened the door he found Payne standing under the porch, grinning. He hadn’t seen him looking so pleased with himself for some time. Payne walked straight past Craig without uttering a word, marched into the kitchen and spread six photographs out on the table.

  Craig looked down at the images and immediately understood why Payne was so smug. Just above the knee on Danny’s left leg was a scar from a wound that Craig remembered inflicting, and although the scar had faded, it was still clear to the naked eye.

  ‘That’s all the evidence Fuller will need,’ said Craig as he picked up the kitchen phone and dialled a number in Scotland.

  ‘Hugo Moncrieff,’ said a voice.

  ‘Soon to be Sir Hugo,’ said Craig.

  70

  ‘AS YOU KNOW, Nicholas, this will be our last meeting.’

  ‘Yes, Ms Bennett.’

  ‘We have not always seen eye to eye, but I do feel that we have both come through the experience unscathed.’

  ‘I agree, Ms Bennett.’

  ‘When you walk out of this building for the last time, you will be a free man, having completed your licence.’

  ‘Yes, Ms Bennett.’

  ‘But before I can sign you off officially, I have to ask you a few questions.’

  ‘Of course, Ms Bennett.’

  She picked up a chewed biro and looked down at the long list of questions that the Home Office requires to be answered before a prisoner can finally be discharged.

  ‘Are you currently taking any drugs?’

  ‘No, Ms Bennett.’

  ‘Have you recently been tempted to commit a crime?’

  ‘Not recently, Ms Bennett.’

  ‘During the past year have you mixed with any known criminals?’

  ‘Not known criminals,’ said Danny. Ms Bennett looked up. ‘But I’ve stopped mixing with them, and have no desire to meet up with them again unless it’s in court.’

  ‘I’m relieved to hear that,’ said Ms Bennett as she ticked the relevant box. ‘Do you still have somewhere to live?’

  ‘Yes, but I anticipate moving quite soon.’ The pen hovered. ‘To a place I’ve been to before, which is officially sanctioned.’ The biro ticked another box.

  ‘Are you presently living with your family?’

  ‘Yes, I am.’

  Ms Bennett looked up again. ‘The last time I asked you that question, Nicholas, you told me that you were living alone.’

  ‘We’ve recently been reconciled.’

  ‘I’m delighted to hear that, Nicholas,’ she said, a third of the boxes ticked.

  ‘Do you have any dependants?’

  ‘Yes, one daughter, Christy.’

  ‘So are you presently living with your wife and daughter?’

  ‘Beth and I are engaged, and as soon as I’ve sorted out one or two problems I still have to deal with, we plan to be married.’

  ‘I’m delighted to hear that,’ said Ms Bennett. ‘Might the Probation Service be able to assist you with these problems?’

  ‘It’s kind of you to ask, Ms Bennett, but I don’t think so. However, I do have an appointment with my counsel tomorrow morning, and I’m rather hoping that he will be able to help me move things along.’

  ‘I see,’ said Ms Bennett, returning to her questions. ‘Does your partner have a full-time job?’

  ‘Yes she does,’ said Danny. ‘She is the PA to the chairman of a City in
surance company.’

  ‘So once you find a job, you’ll be a two-income family.’

  ‘Yes, but for the foreseeable future, my salary will be considerably less than hers.’

  ‘Why? What job are you hoping to take up?’

  ‘I’m expecting to be offered a position as the librarian in a large institution,’ said Danny.

  ‘I can’t think of anything more worthwhile,’ said Ms Bennett, ticking another box and moving on to the next question. ‘Are you thinking of travelling abroad in the near future?’

  ‘I have no plans to do so,’ said Danny.

  ‘And finally,’ said Ms Bennett, ‘are you worried that at some time in the future you might commit another crime?’

  ‘I’ve made a decision that will render that option impossible for the foreseeable future,’ he assured her.

  ‘I’m delighted to hear that,’ said Ms Bennett as she ticked the final box. ‘That completes my questions. Thank you, Nicholas.’

  ‘Thank you, Ms Bennett.’

  ‘I do hope,’ said Ms Bennett as she rose from behind her desk, ‘that your lawyer will be able to get to grips with these problems that are troubling you.’

  ‘That’s kind of you, Ms Bennett,’ said Danny as they shook hands. ‘Let’s hope so.’

  ‘And should you ever feel in need of any help or assistance, don’t forget that I am only a phone call away.’

  ‘I think it’s quite possible that someone will be in touch with you in the near future,’ said Danny.

  ‘I look forward to hearing from them,’ said Ms Bennett, ‘and I hope everything works out well for you and Beth.’

  ‘Thank you,’ said Danny.

  ‘Goodbye, Nicholas.’

  ‘Goodbye, Ms Bennett.’

  Nicholas Moncrieff opened the door and walked out on to the street a free man. Tomorrow he would be Danny Cartwright.

  ‘Are you awake?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Beth.

  ‘Are you still hoping I’ll change my mind?’

  ‘Yes, but I know it’s pointless to try and persuade you, Danny. You’ve always been as stubborn as a mule. I only hope you realize that if it turns out to be the wrong decision, this could be our last night together.’

  ‘But if I’m right,’ said Danny, ‘we’ll have ten thousand nights like this.’

  ‘But we could have a lifetime of nights like this without you having to take such a risk.’

  ‘I’ve been taking that risk every day since I left prison. You have no idea, Beth, what it’s like to be continually looking over your shoulder, waiting for someone to say, “The game’s up, Danny boy, you’re going back to jail for the rest of your life.” At least this way, someone might be willing to listen to my side of the story.’

  ‘But what convinced you that this was the only way to prove your innocence?’

  ‘You did,’ said Danny. ‘When I saw you standing in the doorway – “I’m sorry to disturb you, Sir Nicholas,” ’ – he mimicked – ‘I realized that I no longer wanted to be Sir Nicholas Moncrieff. I’m Danny Cartwright, and I’m in love with Beth Bacon of Wilson Road.’

  Beth laughed. ‘I can’t remember when you last called me that.’

  ‘When you were a grotty little eleven-year-old in pigtails.’

  Beth fell back on the pillow and didn’t speak for some time. Danny wondered if she’d fallen asleep, until she gripped his hand and said, ‘But it’s just as likely that you’ll end up spending the rest of your life in jail.’

  ‘I’ve had more than enough time to think about that,’ said Danny, ‘and I’m convinced that if I walk into a police station with Alex Redmayne and give myself up – along with this house, all my assets and, most important of all, you, don’t you think it might cross somebody’s mind that I could be innocent?’

  ‘Most people wouldn’t be willing to take that risk,’ said Beth. ‘They’d be quite happy to spend the rest of their lives as Sir Nicholas Moncrieff, with everything that goes with it.’

  ‘But that’s the point, Beth. I’m not Sir Nicholas Moncrieff. I’m Danny Cartwright.’

  ‘And I’m not Beth Moncrieff, but I’d rather be that than spending the next twenty years visiting you in Belmarsh on the first Sunday of every month.’

  ‘But not a day would go by when you weren’t looking over your shoulder, misunderstanding the slightest innuendo, and having to avoid anyone who just might have known Danny or even Nick. And who could you share your secret with? Your mother? My mother? Your friends? The answer is, nobody. And what do we tell Christy when she’s old enough to understand? Should we expect her to go on living a life of deceit, never knowing who her parents really are? No, if that’s the alternative, I’d prefer to take the risk. After all, if three law lords believe my case is strong enough to consider a royal pardon, perhaps they’ll feel that I have an even stronger case if I’m willing to give up so much to prove my innocence.’

  ‘I know you’re right, Danny, but the last few days have been the happiest of my life.’

  ‘Mine too, Beth, but they’ll be happier still when I’m a free man. I have enough faith in human nature to believe that Alex Redmayne, Fraser Munro, and even Sarah Davenport will not rest until they see that justice is done.’

  ‘You rather fancy Sarah Davenport, don’t you,’ said Beth, running her fingers through his hair.

  Danny smiled at her. ‘I must admit that Sir Nicholas Moncrieff did, but Danny Cartwright? Never.’

  ‘Why don’t we spend one more day together,’ she said, ‘and make it something we’ll never forget. And as it could be your last day of freedom, I’ll let you do anything you desire.’

  ‘Let’s stay in bed,’ said Danny, ‘and make love all day.’

  ‘Men,’ sighed Beth with a smile.

  ‘We could take Christy to the zoo in the morning, and then have lunch at Ramsey’s fish and chip shop.’

  ‘Then what?’ asked Beth.

  ‘I’ll go to Upton Park and watch the Hammers, while you take Christy back to your mother’s.’

  ‘And in the evening?’

  ‘You can choose whichever film you like . . . as long as it’s the new James Bond.’

  ‘And after that?’

  ‘Same as every night this week,’ he said taking her in his arms.

  ‘In which case I think we’d better stick to plan A,’ said Beth, ‘and make sure you’re on time for the appointment with Alex Redmayne tomorrow morning.’

  ‘I can’t wait to see his face,’ said Danny. ‘He thinks he has an appointment with Sir Nicholas Moncrieff to discuss the diaries and the possibility that he might get him to change his mind and agree to appear as a witness, while in fact he’ll come face to face with Danny Cartwright, who wants to give himself up.’

  ‘Alex will be delighted,’ said Beth. ‘He never stops saying, “If only I had a second chance”.’

  ‘Well, he’s about to be given one. And I can tell you, Beth, I can’t wait for that meeting, because it will make me free for the first time in years.’ Danny leant across and kissed her gently on the lips. As she slipped out of her nightdress, he placed a hand on her thigh.

  ‘This is something else you’re going to have to go without for the next few months,’ whispered Beth, as a noise like a clap of thunder reverberated from the floor below.

  ‘What the hell was that?’ said Danny, switching on the bedside light. He heard the sound of heavy footsteps pounding up the stairs. He swung his legs out of bed as three police officers dressed in flak jackets and carrying batons burst into the bedroom, with three more following close behind. The first three grabbed Danny and threw him to the floor, although he hadn’t made any attempt to resist. Two of them pressed his face into the carpet while the third held his arms behind his back and snapped a pair of handcuffs on him. Out of the corner of his eye, he could just see a policewoman pinning a naked Beth against the wall, while another handcuffed her.

  ‘She’s done nothing!’ he shouted as he broke away and began to charge
towards them, but before he’d taken a second step, the full force of a baton landed on the back of his skull and he collapsed to the floor.

  Two men leapt on top of him, one pressing a knee into the middle of his spine while the other sat on his legs. When Inspector Fuller walked into the room, they yanked Danny to his feet.

  ‘Caution them,’ Fuller said as he sat on the end of the bed and lit a cigarette.

  Once the ritual had been completed, he stood up and strolled across to Danny.

  ‘This time, Cartwright,’ he said, their faces only inches apart, ‘I’m going to make sure they throw away the key. And as for your girlfriend, no more Sunday afternoon visits, because she’s going to be safely locked away in a prison of her own.’

  ‘On what charge?’ spat out Danny.

  ‘Aiding and abetting should fit the bill. The usual tariff is about six years, if I remember correctly. Take them away.’

  Danny and Beth were dragged downstairs like sacks of potatoes and out through the front door where three police cars, lights flashing, back doors open, awaited them. Bedroom lights all around the square were flicking on as neighbours whose sleep had been interrupted peered out of their windows to see what was going on at number 12.

  Danny was thrown into the back of the middle car, to be sandwiched between two officers, just a towel covering him. He could see Big Al suffering the same treatment in the car in front of him. The cars drove out of the square in convoy, never breaking the speed limit, no sirens blaring. Inspector Fuller was pleased that the whole operation had taken less than ten minutes. His informer had proved reliable right down to the last detail.

  Only one thought went through Danny’s mind. Who would believe him when he told them that he’d had an appointment with his barrister later that morning when he had intended to give himself up before reporting to the nearest police station?