dropping into
his local garage to refill the spare petrol can.
When Alan drove into Romford he went straight
to the site and parked on the only available meter. He decided that an hour would
be more than enough. He opened the boot, took out the Harrods bag and the can of
petrol, and walked on to the middle of site where he waited patiently for the
chairman of Lomax Shoes (Import and Export) Ltd to appear.
Des Lomax drove up twenty minutes later and
parked his brand-new red Mercedes E...
Class Saloon on a double yellow line. When he
stepped out of the car, Alan's first impression was that he looked remarkably
pale for someone who'd just spent ten days in Corfu.
Lomax walked slowly across to join him, and didn't
apologize for being late. Alan refused his outstretched hand and simply said, 'Good
morning, Mr Lomax. I think the time has come for us to discuss your claim.'
'There's nothing to discuss,' said Lomax. 'My
policy was for four million, and as I've never missed a payment, I'm looking
forward to my claim being paid in full, and sharpish.'
'Subject to my recommendation.'
'I don't give a damn about your
recommendation, sunshine,' said Lomax, lighting a cigarette. 'Four million is
what I'm entitled to, and four million is what I'm going to get.
And if you don't pay up pretty damn quick, you
can look forward to our next meeting being in court, which might not be a good
career move, remembering that this is your first case.'
'You may well prove to be right, Mr Lomax,' said
Alan. 'But I shall be recommending to your insurance broker that they settle
for two million.'
'Two million?' said Lomax. 'And when did you
come up with that Mickey Mouse figure?'
'When I discovered that you hadn't spent the
last ten days in Corfu.'
'You'd better be able to prove that,
sunshine,' snapped Lomax, 'because I've got hotel receipts, plane tickets, even
the hire car agreement. So I wouldn't go down that road if I were you, unless
you want to add a writ for libel to the one you'll be getting for non-payment
of a legally binding contract.'
'Actually, I admit that I don't have any
proof you weren't in Corfu,' said Alan. 'But I'd still advise you to settle for
two million.'
'If you don't have any proof,' said Lomax,
his voice rising, 'what's your game?'
'What we're discussing, Mr Lomax, is your game,
not mine,' said Alan calmly. 'I may not be able to prove you've spent the last
ten days disposing of over six thousand pairs of shoes, but what I can prove is
that those shoes weren't in your warehouse when you set fire to it.'
'Don't threaten me, sunshine. You have
absolutely no idea who you're dealing with.'
'I know only too well who I'm dealing with,'
said Alan as he bent down and removed four boxes of Roger Vivier shoes from the
Harrods bag and lined them up at Lomax's feet.
Lomax stared down at the neat little row of boxes.
'Been out buying presents, have we?'
'No. Gathering proof of your nocturnal habits.'
Lomax clenched his fist. 'Are you trying to get
yourself thumped?'
'I wouldn't go down that road, if I were
you,' said Alan, 'unless you want to add a charge of assault to the one you'll
be getting for arson.'
Lomax unclenched his fist, and Alan
unscrewed the cap on the petrol can and poured the contents over the boxes. 'You've
already had the fire officer's report, which confirms there was no suggestion
of arson,' said Lomax, 'so what do you think this little fireworks display is
going to prove?'
'You're about to find out,' said Alan,
suddenly cursing himself for having forgotten to bring a box of matches.
'Might I add,' said Lomax, defiantly tossing
his cigarette stub on to the boxes, 'that the insurance company has already
accepted tsquoy aface=readsquoy afhe fire chief's opinion.'
'Yes, I'm well aware of that,' said Alan. I've
read both reports.'
'Just as I thought,' said Lomax, 'you're bluffing.'
Alan said nothing as flames began to leap
into the air, causing both men to take a pace back. Within minutes, the