could make coolly; lightly, even cynically, figuring what he would get
out of it as if it were just another stock market coup. But now that he
was no longer in command of the situation, he realized–and the thought
hit him like a physical blow–that he needed her quite desperately. He
wanted eternal devotion: he wanted someone to care about him, and to
like his company, and to touch his shoulder with affection as she passed
his chair; someone who would always be there, someone who would say “I
love you,” someone who would share his old age. He had been alone all
his life: it was quite long enough.
Having admitted that much to himself, he went farther. If he could have
her, he would cheerfully see his empire crumble, the Hamilton Holdings
deal collapse, his reputation destroyed. He would even go to jail with
Tony Cox if he thought she would be waiting when he got out.
He wished he had never met Tony Cox.
Laski had imagined it would be easy to control a two-bit hoodlum like
Cox. The man might be enormously powerful inside his own little world,
but he surely could not touch a respectable businessman. Maybe not: but
when that businessman went into partnership-however informal-with the
hoodlum, he ceased to be respectable. It was Laski, not Cox, who was
compromised by the association.
Laski heard the office door open, and swung around in his chair to see
Tony Cox walk in.
Laski stared openmouthed. It was like seeing a ghost.
Carol scuttled in behind Cox, worrying him like a terrier. She said to
Laski: “I asked him to wait, but he wouldn’ the just walked in!”
“All right, Carol, I’ll deal with it,” Laski said.
The girl went out and shut the door.
Laski exploded. “What the devil are you doing here? Nothing could be
more dangerous! I’ve already had the newspapers on, asking me about you
and about Fitzpeterson–did you know he tried to kill himself?”
“Calm down. Keep your hair on,” Cox told him.
“Calm down? The whole thing is a disaster! I’ve lost everything, and if
I’m seen with you I’ll end up in jail.”
Cox took a long stride forward, grabbed Laski by the throat, and shook
him. “Shut your mouth,” he growled. He threw him backward in his chair.
“Now, listen. I want your help.”
“No way,” Laski muttered.
“Shut up! I want your help, and you’re going to give it, or I’ll make
bloody sure you do go to jail.
Now you know I done this job this morning-currency van.”
“I know no such thing.”
Cox ignored that. “Well, I’ve got nowhere to hide the money, so I’m
going to put it in your bank.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Laski said lightly. Then he frowned. “How much is
it?”
“Just over a million.”
“Where?”
“Outside in the van.”
Laski jumped to his feet. “You’ve got a million pounds in stolen money,
outside here in a fucking van?”
“Yes.” “You are insane.” Laski’s thoughts were racing.
“What form is the money in?”
“Assorted used notes.”
“Are they in the original containers?”
“I’m not that daft. They’ve been transferred to packing cases.”
“Serial numbers out of sequence?”
“You’re getting the idea slowly. If you don’t get a move on they’ll tow
the van away for parking on a yellow line.”
Laski scratched his head. “How will you carry it into the vault?”
“I got six of the boys out there.”
“I can’t let six of your roughnecks carry all that money into my vault!
The staff will suspect–”
“They’re in uniform–Navy surplus jackets, trousers, shirts and ties.
They look like security guards, Felix. If you want to play twenty
questions, leave it till afterward eh?”
Laski decided. “All right, get moving.” He ushered Cox out and followed
him as far as Carol’s desk. “Ring down to the vault,” he told the girl.
“Tell them to prepare to take in a consignment of cash immediately. I
will be dealing with the paperwork personally. And give me an outside
line on my phone.”
He strode back into his office, picked up the phone, and dialed the Bank
of England. He looked at his watch. It was three twenty-five. He got