But then again I won’t, will I? Maybe you just want to branch out on your own
again.’
‘No,’ said Roy with feeling. ‘If I did anything in the future it
would be with you. I’d need your help. No. I’m retiring. Really.’
39
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05/05/15 5:32 PM
There was a finality in his voice that deterred Vincent from
continuing.
‘Well then,’ he said. ‘Until next time.’
They had a little more business to conduct, but each was aware
that the next times would be few.
Vincent left and Roy tidied up to fill in time before his own departure. Habit and prudence, a word coming into fashion, saw him take
the precaution of wiping surfaces of fingerprints. He handed the
key in at reception and quickly made his way back to his own hotel
room.
4
Plan A had been invoked. Vincent rang each of the other members
of the syndicate, indicating evenly that they needed to meet as
something had come up. Each in turn had reacted with alarm.
‘No, no need to worry,’ he said. ‘It’s not that. But I’d prefer not to use the phone.’
They had standing provisions for an emergency meeting. The
arrangement was that they would meet at a certain golf club, a neu-
tral, not to say anonymous venue just outside the M25, over a
morning coffee. Bernie and Martin had brought golf clubs and just
completed a rather dank round on a cool, misty September morn-
ing by the time the others arrived. Bryn had taken the precaution of hiring a car rather than using his own. Dave had booked the private meeting room that doubled as the club’s committee chamber.
Vincent was the last to arrive, entering the room in his account-
ant’s grey suit and black tie with a solemn expression that presaged bad news and evoked foreboding in the others. The bustle around
the coffee pot ceased. Teaspoons were held mid- air.
‘Where’s Roy?’ interrupted Bernie when Vincent sought to com-
mence proceedings.
‘I’ll come on to that in a moment,’ replied Vincent calmly. ‘But
first a situation report on the deal. I wanted to reassure you all that everything’s on track. There’ve been no hiccups and it’s simply a
40
1ST_9780241206935_TheGoodLiar.indd 40
05/05/15 5:32 PM
question of waiting out the agreed period before we access the
account and distribute the profits.’
There was a palpable easing of tension in the room. Shoulders
relaxed and the darting glances between the principals ceased.
Bernie took a sip of his coffee.
‘So?’ said Bryn.
‘So,’ said Vincent, taking his time and looking down at the green
blotter on the table in front of him. ‘So, there is a reason nonetheless for gathering you all together for this meeting. I’m afraid I have some bad news regarding Roy.’
He paused for effect.
‘I’ve pieced most of this together speaking to his wife recently.’
‘His wife?’ asked Dave.
‘Yes. I received a call from her recently. Apparently she found my
mobile number among Roy’s things. I’ve had a few conversations
with her over the past few days. It seems Roy hadn’t been feeling
too well in recent weeks. She said she’d been trying to get him to go to the doctor’s but he hated anything to do with the medical profession. Besides, he said he was too busy. It must have been the period when we were finalizing the deal.’
They knew what was coming.
‘It seems that Roy had a prostate scare in his fifties. He was eventually given the all clear but warned that it required monitoring.
Which is why his wife was so insistent on his seeing a doctor when
it flared up again. But anyway. One evening – I think it must have been the day we finished the deal – he simply didn’t come home.’
‘He was complaining about his prostate,’ said Dave.
‘Was he really?’ said Vincent. ‘Anyway, she rang round all the Lon-
don hospitals and apparently he had been admitted to St Thomas’.
She didn’t get to see him before he died.’
‘You sure he’s not
again.’
‘No,’ said Roy with feeling. ‘If I did anything in the future it
would be with you. I’d need your help. No. I’m retiring. Really.’
39
1ST_9780241206935_TheGoodLiar.indd 39
05/05/15 5:32 PM
There was a finality in his voice that deterred Vincent from
continuing.
‘Well then,’ he said. ‘Until next time.’
They had a little more business to conduct, but each was aware
that the next times would be few.
Vincent left and Roy tidied up to fill in time before his own departure. Habit and prudence, a word coming into fashion, saw him take
the precaution of wiping surfaces of fingerprints. He handed the
key in at reception and quickly made his way back to his own hotel
room.
4
Plan A had been invoked. Vincent rang each of the other members
of the syndicate, indicating evenly that they needed to meet as
something had come up. Each in turn had reacted with alarm.
‘No, no need to worry,’ he said. ‘It’s not that. But I’d prefer not to use the phone.’
They had standing provisions for an emergency meeting. The
arrangement was that they would meet at a certain golf club, a neu-
tral, not to say anonymous venue just outside the M25, over a
morning coffee. Bernie and Martin had brought golf clubs and just
completed a rather dank round on a cool, misty September morn-
ing by the time the others arrived. Bryn had taken the precaution of hiring a car rather than using his own. Dave had booked the private meeting room that doubled as the club’s committee chamber.
Vincent was the last to arrive, entering the room in his account-
ant’s grey suit and black tie with a solemn expression that presaged bad news and evoked foreboding in the others. The bustle around
the coffee pot ceased. Teaspoons were held mid- air.
‘Where’s Roy?’ interrupted Bernie when Vincent sought to com-
mence proceedings.
‘I’ll come on to that in a moment,’ replied Vincent calmly. ‘But
first a situation report on the deal. I wanted to reassure you all that everything’s on track. There’ve been no hiccups and it’s simply a
40
1ST_9780241206935_TheGoodLiar.indd 40
05/05/15 5:32 PM
question of waiting out the agreed period before we access the
account and distribute the profits.’
There was a palpable easing of tension in the room. Shoulders
relaxed and the darting glances between the principals ceased.
Bernie took a sip of his coffee.
‘So?’ said Bryn.
‘So,’ said Vincent, taking his time and looking down at the green
blotter on the table in front of him. ‘So, there is a reason nonetheless for gathering you all together for this meeting. I’m afraid I have some bad news regarding Roy.’
He paused for effect.
‘I’ve pieced most of this together speaking to his wife recently.’
‘His wife?’ asked Dave.
‘Yes. I received a call from her recently. Apparently she found my
mobile number among Roy’s things. I’ve had a few conversations
with her over the past few days. It seems Roy hadn’t been feeling
too well in recent weeks. She said she’d been trying to get him to go to the doctor’s but he hated anything to do with the medical profession. Besides, he said he was too busy. It must have been the period when we were finalizing the deal.’
They knew what was coming.
‘It seems that Roy had a prostate scare in his fifties. He was eventually given the all clear but warned that it required monitoring.
Which is why his wife was so insistent on his seeing a doctor when
it flared up again. But anyway. One evening – I think it must have been the day we finished the deal – he simply didn’t come home.’
‘He was complaining about his prostate,’ said Dave.
‘Was he really?’ said Vincent. ‘Anyway, she rang round all the Lon-
don hospitals and apparently he had been admitted to St Thomas’.
She didn’t get to see him before he died.’
‘You sure he’s not
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