Part 4 (1/2)

d.i.c.k rang Sam Cohen within minutes of arriving at his office and reported the conversation to his lawyer.

'Symonds must have advised her to witness the signing of the contract,' suggested Cohen.

'But why?'

'So that Maureen will be able to claim that over the years she has played a leading role in your business success, always being there to support you at those key moments in your career . . . '

'b.a.l.l.s,' said d.i.c.k, 'she's never taken any interest in how I make my money, only in how she can spend it.'

'. . . and therefore she must be ent.i.tled to fifty per cent of your a.s.sets.'

'But that could amount to over thirty million pounds,' d.i.c.k protested.

'Symonds has obviously done his homework.'

'Then I'll simply tell her that she can't come on the trip. It's not proper.'

'Which will allow Mr Symonds to change tack. He will then show you as a heartless man a man who cut his own wife out of his life the moment he became a success, often travelling abroad, with a secretary who-'

'OK, OK, I get the picture. So letting her come to St Petersburg might well prove to be the lesser of two evils.'

'On the one hand . . . ' advised Sam.

'b.l.o.o.d.y lawyers,' said d.i.c.k before he could finish the sentence.

'Funny how you only need us when you're in trouble,' Sam replied. 'So let's make sure that this time we antic.i.p.ate her next move.'

'And what's that likely to be?'

'Once she's got you to St Petersburg, she will want to have s.e.x.'

'We haven't had s.e.x for years.'

'And not because I haven't wanted to, m'lord.'

'Oh, h.e.l.l,' said d.i.c.k, 'I can't win.'

'You can as long as you don't follow Lady Longford's advice. When asked if she had ever considered divorcing Lord Longford, she replied, ”Divorce, never, murder, often.”'

Mr and Mrs Richard Barnsley checked into the Grand Palace Hotel in St Petersburg a fortnight later. A porter placed their bags on a trolley, and then walked them to the Tolstoy Suite on the ninth floor.

'Must go to the loo before I burst,' said d.i.c.k as he rushed into the room ahead of his wife. While her husband disappeared into the bathroom, Maureen looked out of the window and admired the golden domes of St Nicholas's Cathedral.

Once he had locked the door, d.i.c.k removed the DON'T DRINK THE WATER sign that was perched on the washbasin and tucked it into the back pocket of his trousers. Next he unscrewed the tops of the two Evian bottles and poured the contents down the sink. He then refilled both bottles with tap water, before s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g the tops firmly back on and returning them to their place on the corner of the basin. He unlocked the door and strolled out of the bathroom.

d.i.c.k started to unpack his suitcase, but stopped the moment Maureen disappeared into the bathroom. First, he transferred the DON'T DRINK THE WATER sign from his back pocket into the side flap of his suitcase. He zipped up the flap, before checking around the room. There was a small bottle of Evian water on each side of the bed, and two large bottles on the table by the window.

d.i.c.k grabbed the bottle by his wife's side of the bed and retreated into the kitchenette at the far end of the room. He poured the contents down the sink, and refilled the bottle with tap water. He then returned it to Maureen's side of the bed. Next, he took the two large bottles from the table by the window and repeated the process.

By the time his wife had come out of the bathroom, d.i.c.k had almost finished unpacking. While Maureen continued to unpack her suitcase, d.i.c.k strolled across to his side of the bed and dialled a number he didn't need to look up. As he waited for the phone to be answered, he opened the bottle of Evian water on his side of the bed, and took a gulp.

'Hi, Anatol, it's d.i.c.k Barnsley. I thought I'd let you know that we've just checked in to the Grand Palace.'

'Welcome back to St Petersburg,' said a friendly voice. 'And is your wife with you on this occasion?'

'She most certainly is,' replied d.i.c.k, 'and very much looking forward to meeting you.'

'Me too,' said the minister, 'so make sure that you have a relaxed weekend because everything is set up for Monday morning. The President is due to fly in tomorrow night so he'll be present when the contract is signed.'

'Ten o'clock at the Winter Palace?'

'Ten o'clock,' repeated Anatol Chenkov. 'I'll pick you up from your hotel at nine. It's only a thirty-minute drive, but we can't afford to be late for this one.'

'I'll be waiting for you in the lobby,' said d.i.c.k. 'See you then.'

He put the phone down and turned to his wife. 'Why don't we go down to dinner, my darling? We've got a long day ahead of us tomorrow.' He adjusted his watch by three hours and added, 'So perhaps it would be wise to have an early night.'

Maureen placed a long silk nightdress on her side of the bed and smiled in agreement. As she turned to place her empty case in the wardrobe, d.i.c.k slipped an Evian bottle from the bedside table into his jacket pocket. He then accompanied his wife down to the dining room.

The head waiter led them to a quiet table in the corner and, once they were seated, offered his two guests menus. Maureen disappeared behind the large leather menu while she considered the table d'hote, which allowed d.i.c.k enough time to remove the bottle of Evian from his pocket, undo the cap and fill his wife's gla.s.s.

Once they had both selected their meals, Maureen went over her proposed tour for the next two days. 'I think we should begin with the Hermitage, first thing in the morning,' she suggested, 'take a break for lunch, and then spend the rest of the afternoon at the Summer Palace.'

'What about the amber collection?' asked d.i.c.k, as he topped up her water gla.s.s. 'I thought that was a no-miss.'

'I have already booked in the amber collection and the Russian Museum for Sunday.'

'Sounds as if you have everything well organised,' said d.i.c.k, as a waiter placed a bowl of borscht beetroot soup, a Russian favourite in front of his wife.

Maureen spent the rest of the meal telling d.i.c.k about some of the treasures that they would see when they visited the Hermitage. By the time d.i.c.k had signed the bill, Maureen had drunk the bottle of water.

d.i.c.k slipped the empty bottle back in his pocket. Once they had returned to their room, he filled it with tap water and left it in the bathroom.

By the time d.i.c.k had undressed and climbed into bed, Maureen was still studying her guidebook.

'I feel exhausted,' d.i.c.k said. 'It must be the time change.' He turned his back on her, hoping she wouldn't work out that it was just after 8 p.m. in England.

d.i.c.k woke the following morning feeling very thirsty. He looked at the empty bottle of Evian on his side of the bed and remembered just in time. He climbed out of bed, walked across to the fridge and selected a bottle of orange juice.

'Will you be going to the gym this morning?' he asked a half-awake Maureen.

'Do I have time?'