The Boathouse by R. J. Harries

you don’t just grunt then. Tell me, who do you think did it?”
    â€œLook, we’d better get back downstairs. We’re expecting another call.”
    â€œThere won’t be many more ransom calls.”
    â€œWhat about Mrs Sinclair?”
    â€œThere must be somebody on the inside. Who do you think it is?
    â€œWhat?” Best folded his arms and tensed his face muscles. He looked uncomfortable.
    â€œHas Sinclair fired anyone in the last six months?”
    â€œProbably, he employs people all over the world.”
    â€œBut has anyone really close to him, like someone in his innermost circle, been fired or left recently? Do you know anyone with a massive grudge against him?”
    â€œYou think all this is over a grudge?”
    â€œSinclair’s no saint. I assume he has enemies.”
    â€œWhat? These people are after ransom money.”
    â€œTell me what you really think about him.”
    â€œWhat’s wrong with you?”
    â€œCome on, man, I won’t tell anyone.”
    â€œI’m not comfortable talking like this.”
    â€œDon’t you want to help find Mrs Sinclair?”
    â€œOf course I do.”
    â€œOkay, good. Let’s go and get some fresh air in the park, shall we?”
    Best got up and turned. As he headed for the door, Archer yanked the spike out while the lights were still flashing, unsure if he had managed to download anything useful.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

    In less than five minutes Archer and Best were walking under gently rustling autumn trees in Hyde Park. The grass was bright green and a sea of sulphur, burnt orange and crimson leaves popped under the clear blue sky. Archer thought it was a hundred times better than any of the random paint splashes he’d seen in Cavendish’s law office. Dried leaves and gravel crunched underfoot as they headed down the rolling footpath towards the Serpentine.
    â€œIt’s just like New England in the fall, only better,” Archer said, casually trying to draw Best in like a devious salesman.
    â€œIt is nice this time of year,” Best answered awkwardly, as if he shouldn’t be there.
    â€œSo who do you think the inside man is?”
    â€œI don’t know.”
    Best looked away. He was avoiding eye contact on purpose. He was lying.
    â€œIt has to be someone who knows about Sinclair’s access to cash and diamonds.”
    â€œBut he has hundreds of business associates.”
    â€œAnd employees.”
    â€œNo chance, they’d be too afraid.”
    â€œSo who has the biggest grudge against him?”
    â€œThere could be several people that fit the bill, but what exactly are you looking for?”
    â€œJust think about it. Who is the most likely person to do this?”
    They continued to walk in silence along the northern edge of the Serpentine as Best gazed ahead with the occasional frown as if thinking too hard would hurt his head. Archer kept quiet. He knew that it would eventually force Best to speak up. They walked side by side on the gently winding path, watching the ducks, geese and swans scavenge for crumbs.
    Despite the cool wind, the blue sky had attracted many visitors to the capital’s largest park. Archer waited patiently for a response as the October sunshine warmed his face.
    â€œStuart Hunter has the biggest grudge. I suppose.”
    â€œWho’s he?”
    â€œOld business associate.”
    â€œWhere is he now?”
    â€œNobody knows.”
    They turned left and continued walking south over the road bridge towards the Serpentine Gallery.
    â€œHe sold his business and went into hiding,” Best said, his voice quivering nervously.
    â€œBut why does Hunter have a grudge?”
    â€œBecause he thinks he was shafted by Mr Sinclair.”
    â€œWhy?”
    â€œListen, Archer, I look after Mr Sinclair’s safety, he doesn’t come to me for business advice. If you want to know about Hunter, ask Mr Sinclair.”
    â€œHow