Silent Money Page 20

  The rest of the weekend was spent in bed with Roberta while Dick and Eddie caught up on old times on the hotel’s golf course. Dinner gave Michael a chance to get a handle on the sort of women these guys hung out with. Pneumatic blonde trophies who didn’t ask too many questions. Roberta’s face was a picture when she saw who she was being compared with, and Michael tried to imagine Sharon and Cindy turning up at one of his dinner parties. He found the thought farcical. Maybe he had become too much of a snob, but the girlfriend stereotype of this life was not for him.

  Michael was full of anticipation about the future. This was the big league. His new business partners might not be the sort of people he’d introduce in polite society, but this was to be his world from now on.

  chapter twenty-one

  Immediately after Turnberry, Michael headed off to Switzerland to put the banking arrangements in place. He met up with Roberta on his return. He was starting to like her. She made a change from the usual Tiffany conquest – empty sex and vacuous small talk. And she showed at Turnberry that she wouldn’t run a mile when she got a hint of who he really was.

  That had turned out to be important. When Michael had given her a tour of the house, it was centrepiece of his collection that had impressed her the most. She had recognised the artist as soon as she saw it.

  ‘Wow, a Magritte,’ she had said, bouncing on tiptoes. ‘But not a real one, surely?’

  When Michael had told her it was, he could see she was impressed. She reached out and touched the painting. ‘Your travel agency and estate agents must do awfully well for you to afford all this,’ she said. ‘Your place is seriously cool.’

  ‘Oh, that was a very satisfactory outcome from someone’s misfortune.’ Michael replied. ‘I’m in the process of setting up an art gallery, selling exclusive, upmarket stuff to the well-heeled Scottish gentry. One of my prospective clients fell on hard times and needed someone to take it off his hands in a hurry. A quick and very discreet sale.’

  It was what she had said next that piqued Michael’s interest.

  ‘Art gallery? What a coincidence. I’m the assistant manager at the Third Eye Centre.’

  Michael thought back to that conversation as they sat across from each other in a restaurant. She was the perfect person to front up the art gallery project. Knowing enough about art to be credible as the manager and nothing in her background to suggest she could be a front for a criminal operation.

  She seemed to be becoming more infatuated every time they met. But it was one thing getting a glimpse of his world by meeting Dick and Eddie, and another seeing right in front of her what was going on. He had been lucky with Charlotte – she had suspected what he really did for a living, but the repercussions had been personal, not professional. He couldn’t afford to take that chance again. If he played it slowly, he could draw Roberta into his world little by little. Then, and only then, would she discover what she was part of.

  Dinner was the first test. Michael had brought along a diamond and ruby necklace – a jewel thief’s payment in lieu. He was keen to see if she baulked at such over-the-top generosity. That would be the first indication of whether she was willing to look the other way when the price was right.

  He produced the necklace at the end of the evening, saying he had a one-month anniversary present for her.

  She gasped. ‘You are joking, aren’t you? I mean, get me a new Snoopy doll if you want to give me a present. I can’t take something like this.’

  ‘Relax. It’s just something left over from a business deal. One of my business partners had a little liquidity problem and gave me this to settle some debts. It would have been too … problematic to dispose of it and I think it will look good on you. Please keep it.’

  ‘It’s not me, Michael,’ she replied, biting on her lip. ‘And whoever it belonged to before will have hated to have parted with it. It doesn’t seem right to wear something with a sad history.’

  ‘Look out the window, Roberta,’ Michael replied. ‘All of these dots of lights out there are people, in their houses, in their cars. Do they mean anything to you?’ He pointed out the window. ‘Would you give this necklace to that dot of light there if you knew it would help their problems? Or even give them the cost of this meal? Of course not. You have no connection with them. Our only real connection is with ourselves. Morals and scruples are all very well, but they never put food on the table. And we’ve got expensive tastes.’

  He had prepared the speech carefully, using Orson Welles for inspiration. The Third Man was his favourite movie and Harry Lime his favourite character. He had been deliberately provocative – he wanted to be absolutely sure she would accept his criminal world, become complicit by accepting his gift, before he finally brought her into his operation. He lifted his glass of water in a kind of toast to her agreement to their Faustian pact, scrutinising her face for a reaction. The air crackled with expectancy.

  Roberta fiddled with the necklace, staring at the ruby centrepiece. ‘It’s beautiful, Michael, thank you,’ she said softly, slipping it around her neck. Michael got up and stood behind her, guiding her fingers to secure the clasp. He returned to his seat and gazed at her in admiration.

  ‘No more beautiful than you,’ he said.

  Roberta had passed the first test.

  * * *

  Michael spent two weeks gently teasing out of Roberta more about her past. On the surface, she was as nice as apple pie, visiting her granny every week, caring for everyone she met. But hanging out in Tiffany’s, looking for a pick-up, wasn’t a one-off aberration. Nights like Tiffany’s, she told Michael, had been her way of dealing with remorse over a tragic love affair that had gone badly wrong. She had promised herself she’d never have to be responsible for a failed love affair again, and one-night stands had been her way of dealing with her guilt.

  Michael saw she was someone who avoided problems rather than confront them. That was good. The longer she avoided facing up to the world that Michael was drawing her into, the deeper she would become embroiled, the more difficult it would be for her to summon the will to leave.

  But her dream to be an actress was the final piece of proof Michael needed. Her passion for acting consumed her, and she confessed that she had just failed an audition for a movie part when the director, Frank Fontaine, made it clear to her what favours would be required in return. Persuading the director to change his mind was easy. One visit from Big Jockie and it was all portrayed as a big misunderstanding. Roberta got the part.

  Michael was cooking supper, enjoying bustling around in the kitchen and whipping up an omelette Arnold Bennett, when Roberta told him the director had offered her the role.

  ‘You got the part in the movie, Roberta? Congratulations. Well deserved.’

  ‘It might be well deserved, Michael, but you and I both know I didn’t get it off my own bat. They’d already cast someone else for the part and it was suspicious Fontaine changed his mind after I told you about him. I need to know, Michael: What did you say to him?’

  Michael took the omelette out from under the grill and left it to settle. ‘I can make inconvenient things happen to people who bother me, Roberta. Fontaine was out of order in his behaviour, and he needed someone to point that out to him.’

  Roberta looked him in the eye, but the stare was a different one from the time he had given her the necklace. That one had been full of worry, uncertainty, unease. This look was more self-assured, confident, and aware. She went to speak, but caught herself before she uttered a syllable. Instead, she gave a smile of gratitude, came over and kissed him on the neck.

  ‘Thank you,’ she said.

  Michael knew then that he’d captured her, that all he had to do was dangle dreams of acting fame in front of her and she would be putty in his hands. She was the perfect front for another of his Avalon businesses, and he could coax her along to run the art gallery operation, at least until Mall
ards made it redundant. Now all he had to do was give her one final little push to get her on board.

  It was easy. She’d told him that on the following Friday evening there was to be a private preview at the art gallery where she worked. The previous show wasn’t coming down till the Thursday, so she had arranged for the entire team to be in early Friday morning to begin hanging the new work. She set her alarm for 6 a.m. A simple flick of the switch on the clock and Michael made sure it never went off. Roberta woke late and panicked. Michael pretended to do his best to help her make up time, but as he had anticipated, there was a major bust-up when she finally got to work. When Roberta met Michael again, two days later, she was still fretting that her boss had not accepted her repeated apologies.

  ‘I think he’s under a lot of pressure at the moment,’ said Michael. ‘The word on the street is that his gallery is struggling.’

  ‘I’ve not heard that. In fact, we seem to be getting busier all the time. Are you sure?’

  Michael decided the time was right to make his move. ‘I can only say what I’ve heard. Actually, now is as good a time as any to tell you about my latest business venture. Have I mentioned my new art gallery, the Avalon?’

  ‘You mentioned something about it when we first met. What is it?’

  ‘A high-quality art gallery selling top-end nineteenth-century Scottish art. The Glasgow Boys, Henry Raeburn, that sort of thing. London has traditional galleries like this in Mayfair and Old Bond Street, but we’ve got nothing like it in Scotland. What do you think?’

  Michael looked her straight in the eye.

  ‘I’d like you to be the curator,’ he said. ‘What do you say?’

  ‘Oh, Michael, I couldn’t do that. I’m not qualified.’

  He played his trump card.

  ‘And you’ll have all the time you need for your acting career; you can even close the gallery for the day for an audition or to go to rehearsals. And think of the contacts you can make at exhibition openings and the like.’

  Roberta took a deep breath. ‘Michael, don’t take this the wrong way …’

  He smiled, knowing what was coming next.

  Roberta looked at the floor as she spoke. ‘Is your business completely legit?’

  ‘What a question.’ Michael laughed. ‘I don’t know what you’ve been imagining, but you don’t need to worry. I want you to run my art gallery, that’s all. Organise the hangings, chat to whoever comes in to have a look. Be a real curator, make the artistic decisions. You’ll be a legitimate employee, pay your taxes. The books will show the business being a bit more successful than it is in reality, that’s the only thing, because it’s tax efficient to divert part of my overall income stream through a start-up company. But that’s normal practice. What do you say?’

  ‘I’m not sure. The job sounds too good to be true. And I’m worried about this “income stream” thing you mentioned.’

  ‘Well, you shouldn’t be. Do you think the girls at the travel agency are criminals? Or the people at the estate agents? Of course not.’

  The look in her eye showed that she was tempted.

  ‘And when the acting becomes full time, you can help me find your replacement and, puff, off you go. To be a star. Just think about it.’ Michael took a sip of his soda water and raised his glass, as if to acknowledge she’d said yes.

  He needed to make sure Roberta didn’t have any secrets that could turn out to be problems further down the line, so he’d checked into her background, had her watched. Nothing concerning, apart from the fact that she was seeing someone else, a guy her age. When Michael dug deeper, it turned out to be an old school friend she’d known for years.

  He arranged to have some photographs taken of her meeting with him, found out his name – Duncan Jones – and before he met Roberta that evening, he prepared a test. She arrived wearing a new outfit and sashayed into the hallway, waiting for Michael to congratulate her on how glamorous she looked.

  ‘Who’s Duncan Jones?’ Michael said instead.

  He saw the look of complete shock on her face.

  ‘Duncan? He’s a friend. How do you know him?’

  Michael placed the photos on the table of Duncan and Roberta having coffee the previous day. ‘You seem to be very close. Quite an intense conversation you were having.’

  ‘What is this, Michael? Are you spying on me?’

  He deliberately spoke with a slight menace. ‘Please be calm, Roberta. There’s one thing which is very important to me, and which I put a lot of effort into getting right, and that’s security. Glasgow can be a mean city. Robbery, kidnapping, that sort of thing. Now you’re starting to work for me; I’ve had someone keep an eye on you for your protection.’

  He could see he was having the desired effect.

  ‘This is too heavy, Michael. You’re scaring me.’ Her voice trembled as she spoke.

  ‘I’m sorry if these pictures startled you. One of my business associates is being a little … troublesome at the moment and I’m probably more thorough in my surveillance than normal. I hope you’ll forgive me. You look beautiful in that dress, by the way.’

  ‘Michael, who exactly are your customers?’ She was sounding more frantic now. ‘Are we talking about murderers and armed robbers here?’

  ‘Of course not. You’ve met Eddie and Dick, the guys I’m talking to about expanding my businesses. They might look like a couple of rough diamonds, but that’s just their way. They’re not criminals by any stretch of the imagination. So, if you don’t mind me asking, who is Duncan and what does he do?’

  ‘I’ve known him since school. My best friend. And only my friend.’

  Michael acted as if he was finding this out for the first time. ‘Good. I’m pleased to hear that. I’m so glad we’ve sorted out this misunderstanding. I’ve got no problem with you seeing Duncan, or any of your friends. But I care about you, Roberta, and I want to make sure no one takes advantage of you.’

  As he expected, the whole thing had freaked her out. ‘Michael, I’m scared,’ she said. She started sobbing. ‘I don’t want the job anymore.’

  ‘Please don’t overreact, Roberta. I think you know by now I like my world to be organised, maybe a little too organised perhaps. I’m the first to admit I probably overdo my security. Let’s call it my foible.’

  ‘So, can I leave?’

  ‘If you want to.’ This would be the telling moment. ‘But your old boss has hired someone to take your place, hasn’t he? Everything’s ready for our opening tomorrow; you’ve got these wonderful clothes. I think I’d need to ask you to work your notice period at least. And those Scottish Arts people who are coming to the opening night party, do you want to tell them you’re quitting on your first day? But it’s up to you.’

  He could see her hesitating. ‘I’m not sure, really I’m not, Michael.’

  ‘Look, are we going to let one stupid incident spoil everything we have together?’ He kissed her gently on the lips. ‘Roberta, if I thought there was the slightest problem with you taking the job, I wouldn’t want you to do it. If I say once more I’m sorry about the Duncan incident, will you at least consider staying on?’

  She wiped her eyes.

  ‘God, would you look at me! Okay then. Yes – I’ll give it a try.’

  chapter twenty-two

  Five weeks after Roberta started work, Michael had Jenkins go to the gallery to get her to countersign fake invoices to cover some clients’ money going through the books. He’d deliberately kept the amount low but, as anticipated, she panicked and said no.

  Michael went to the gallery an hour later.

  ‘Roberta, Jenkins tells me you have a problem with the paperwork. Can we have a quiet word?’

  ‘It’s not a problem with paperwork, Michael. He wants me to lie on a tax return. Say I’ve sold paintings I’ve not even seen. I can’t do that, Michael, that’s not wh
at I agreed to.’

  ‘Yes, it is, Roberta. I was very clear when I explained the job to you, that we would be accounting for additional revenue. You do remember us having that conversation, don’t you?’

  ‘Yes, I do, but I didn’t realise you needed me to get this involved. You never explained that to me, Michael. Can’t someone else sign the invoices?’

  ‘It has to be you, Roberta. You are the gallery manager; it would be expected you would be the person to sign. But don’t worry, all the paperwork ties together, that’s what Jenkins is good at. If it makes you feel any better, I can tell you they were sales done directly with the purchasers away from the gallery. That’s why you didn’t see them.’

  ‘I don’t want to, Michael.’

  ‘Then the gallery closes until we find another manager. I’m sorry, Roberta, but that’s the harsh reality. Is that what you want? To tell your parents you were fired after a month? Lose all the contacts you made with Scottish Arts? Disappoint me? It’s no problem, Roberta, I wouldn’t ask you to do anything risky. Could you possibly imagine I’d ask that of you, of all people?’

  ‘Are you sure I won’t get into trouble?’

  ‘Trust me, Roberta. Jenkins has given me the invoices. Just sign here.’

  She signed.

  ‘There you are, Michael,’ she said, handing them to him. ‘But I’m really, really not happy about this.’