Royal Heist

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Book: Read Royal Heist for Free Online
Authors: Lynda La Plante
all of this, but he had never felt so impotent in his life.
    With dinner over and Christina clearing the table, he sat preoccupied, tapping a dessertspoon.
    “Should I call her?” asked Christina.
    “Up to you,” de Jersey said offhandedly.
    “Well, do you think it would be appropriate?”
    “How should I know?” he said and stood.
    “I hate it when you behave like this.” She pulled off the tablecloth.
    “How am I behaving?”
    She glared at him. “Like that! Shutting me out and snapping at me. I’m only trying to find out what’s happened. David has killed himself, for God’s sake, and you say he frittered money away. Well, I would just like to know—”
    “Sweetheart, I don’t know the full extent of what David has or hasn’t done,” de Jersey said, softening his tone. “It’s difficult. Twenty-five years is a long time to know and trust someone. Now, I’m sorry I’ve been abrupt, but I really must go try to sort out the facts.”
    Back in his office, de Jersey was forced to accept the reality of what had occurred. He had a terrible feeling that the gamble he had taken with David might now cause him to lose everything. He would not be the only loser: he had drawn in Wilcox and Driscoll, his two oldest friends. Earlier in the year, when de Jersey’s share had trebled in value, he’d called them both and advised them to invest. He knew that he should contact them but couldn’t bring himself to do it yet.
    Someone would pay for this.
    De Jersey’s chest was tight with anger. Christina had lit the fire and left a bottle of port with some cheese and crackers on the table. In the dark, womblike room, with its heavy oak furniture and dark red velvet curtains, he sucked tensely at a cigar as he slotted a disk into the computer. Why had he been so foolish as to invest so much money in an Internet company? “Never get involved in anything you don’t understand,” his father had always told him.
    De Jersey closed his eyes. He had not just got into something he didn’t understand; he had walked blindly into a nightmare. Then he had become greedy and poured in more money and, even worse, had encouraged his friends to do the same.
    Driscoll and Wilcox were the only living souls who knew how de Jersey had acquired his original wealth. Together the three men had staged some of the greatest robberies in British history, and they had never been caught. After their final heist they had agreed to a strict set of rules, which included not contacting each other again. But when David Lyons had started the investment bonanza, de Jersey couldn’t resist breaking their agreement to encourage his old friends to jump onto the gravy train. He just hoped they had not acted as rashly as he had.
    The snow that had been forecast was not yet falling, though the ground was hardened with frost. De Jersey, his hands deep in his coat pockets, his breath steaming out in front of him, had walked for miles.
    He leaned against the white fence round the paddock. Christmas was always financially draining, and without liquid funds de Jersey knew he was in dire trouble. If he did not come up with a lucrative solution, he would soon be forced to start selling off his horses. He had to find a way of recouping his losses—fast. He tossed his cigar down and ground it out with his heel. He knew he was going to have to contact Driscoll and Wilcox, and it wouldn’t be to wish them a happy new year.
    “I’m going to see a specialist, maybe try this Viagra stuff,” Tony Driscoll said in a depressed tone as he switched off the bedside lamp.
    “Don’t worry about it.” Liz tried to pretend it wasn’t important.
    “That’s the fourth time this month. Something’s
got
to be wrong—I’ve never not been able to get it up.”
    Liz sighed.
    “I’ve put on weight too.” Driscoll rubbed his hairy chest, then let his hand slip down to the rolls of his belly. “You think it’s something to do with my liver?” he asked.
    “More likely

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