Free Royal Heist by Lynda La Plante Page B

split up and moved to Canada, then to Los Angeles. De Jersey covered their tracks; he had given them fake passports and instructed them to be constantly on the move—and apart—until all was quiet. They were not due to receive the big payoff for another few years. They showed how much they trusted their “colonel” by their patience. The laundered money eventually ensured that all three men could lead a life of luxury. By now they had growing families and flourishing businesses. De Jersey himself emerged as a racehorse and stud-farm owner.
    Driscoll looked up suddenly. “Why did you come here, Jimmy?”
    “Thinking of writing my memoirs,” Wilcox replied.
    “You’re here because you’re worried about what he’s gonna suggest, right?”
    “Well, you keep saying how much you’re in debt to him, so I guess whatever he suggests, you’ll be up for it.”
    “And you don’t feel like you owe him?”
    “Like fuck I do. It was his idea to back that Internet company.”
    Driscoll opened a half bottle of white wine.
    “Okay, let’s be honest with each other.” He sat back, watching Wilcox open another miniature. “Reason you’re here is that you’re scared shitless.”
    “Listen, I’m not scared of anything; I’m just being realistic. No way do I want to spend the rest of my life in some nick.”
    “Yeah. I’ve got a wife and two kids. I feel the same way.”
    “You do?”
    “I can get by, like I said. I’ll have to sell off everything. Liz will go bananas, but hell. Ain’t gonna starve.”
    “When we meet what are you gonna say? We should get it worked out between us.”
    “I know.”
    “But whatever he suggests we both walk away from, and this time we don’t let him wear us down. If we stand up to him together . . . Tony?”
    Driscoll took a gulp of wine, then another, draining the bottle. “I agree,” he said. “I hope they serve better stuff than this at the Ritz, because I know I’m gonna need a few drinks to face him.”
    “Yeah, but if we do it together it’ll be better.”
    “It’s agreed, then?”
    “Yeah.” They shook hands, but neither could meet the other’s eyes. They felt as if they were somehow betraying de Jersey.
    Liz sat, surrounded by boutique bags, when her husband reeled in. “Do you know what time it is?” she asked, buffing her nails.
    “I do, my love. I’ve been out on the golf course.”
    “No, you haven’t. Your golfing shoes are still in the wardrobe.”
    “Well, I lied. I’ve been at the Pink Flamingo bar,” he said as he tottered off to their bathroom.
    “Who with?”
    “Brad Pitt, and if you think I’m plastered you should see him.”
    “Tony!” she yelled, but he slammed the door behind him.
    Driscoll knew it was going to be very hard for him to say no to the Colonel. It would be even harder for Wilcox. He remembered Wilcox’s face when de Jersey had insisted they all have no further contact with each other. Since leaving Sandhurst, Wilcox and de Jersey had hardly been apart. Wilcox could not believe that his friend really meant it. He’d joked that maybe they could at least have a drink sometime.
    “No, Jimmy,” de Jersey had said. “When I walk away, that is it. You don’t know me, we never meet up again. It’s the only way we will protect each other.” Then de Jersey had hugged Jimmy tightly. After he’d gone, Wilcox was in tears. “I feel like I just lost my brother,” he said.
    Driscoll had felt sorry for him. “He’s just looking out for us Jimmy, like he’s always done.”
    “Yeah, yeah, good-bye then.”
    “Good-bye, Jimmy. You take care now.”
    So they had all gone their separate ways. They had each been lucky and enjoyed a good life.
    He sighed, sitting on the toilet looking down at his feet and his leather sandals. They reminded him of the ones he had worn when he was a kid. Outside the bathroom his wife was dripping with diamonds, and she had no doubt spent a fortune at the boutiques. The good life had softened both