Walking with Ghosts

leaving the key in the lock. ‘You don’t want us to be disturbed?’ asked Marie.
    He snorted, leading the way through the reception area to his own inner office. ‘I presume you’re here to ruin me,’ he said. ‘I can’t say that the prospect of visitors arriving during the actual operation fills me with joy.’
    ‘The cabinet minister has already been in touch, then?’
    ‘Five minutes after you left him. Fie got me up in the middle of the night.’
    Marie smiled. ‘Life’s hard sometimes.’ She placed a video cassette on Blake’s desk, tapped it once with the tips of her fingers, and sat back in her chair. Blake fixed his eyes on the cassette, stared at it for so long that Marie wondered if he’d forgotten they were there. She glanced over at Sam, and he smiled but didn’t speak. He was wearing a black trilby and he tipped it forward so it fell over his eyes. This was Marie’s show, and he was only there because the cabinet minister’s barrister had requested his presence.
    When the other party arrived, Blake made the introductions. Robert ‘Bobby’ Neville, the cabinet minister, looked completely different with his clothes on. Almost respectable. His hair was sleek and black. Marie was now among the few who knew the truth: that he was a natural redhead.
    His barrister was all bustle and feigned good humour, overweight and anxious to get the proceedings under way. Keen to show that he was worth his two-thousand-pounds-a-day fee. It was he who introduced a professional cough, just loud enough to gain everyone’s attention.
    ‘As far as I can ascertain,’ he said, ‘we are primarily gathered here to negotiate the purchase of a videotape.’ He picked up the cassette that Marie had left on Edward Blake’s desk. ‘In fact, this must be the object in question. My client’ - a glance towards the cabinet minister - ‘is prepared to offer a nominal sum for the purchase of the tape, so long as the proceedings can be finalized immediately. He is not prepared to enter into protracted negotiations. Our bid is five hundred pounds, cash.’ He flicked a catch on his briefcase and extracted a plain brown envelope, which he waved at Marie.
    She shook her head.
    The barrister smiled and extracted another envelope. ‘One thousand,’ he said. ‘But that’s final.’
    Marie shook her head again. ‘No deal,’ she said.
    ‘My client is in a position of some privilege,’ said the barrister. ‘I can assure you that the police will not look lightly on an attempt to extract money from him by means of blackmail.’
    ‘No one’s blackmailing him,’ said Marie. ‘I don’t want his money. The videotape’s not for sale.’
    ‘But I thought—’ said the barrister.
    ‘Never mind.’ Marie cut him off. ‘We’re here as a kind of industrial tribunal,’ she said. ‘To discuss the redundancy of one of Edward Blake’s employees, Miss Joni Prine.’
    Blake got to his feet. ‘Now, just a minute,’ he said. ‘Joni’s got nothing to do with this.’
    ‘On the contrary,’ said Marie. ‘Joni Prine has been made redundant, and she is due a substantial payment to compensate her.’ She paused to let her words sink in.
    It was the barrister who got the message first. ‘I think I see,’ he said. ‘The lady in question is obviously due some compensation, and my client, the right honourable Robert Neville, is here as a representative of government, unofficially, of course, to see that fair play is observed. He is not to be asked to contribute financially, and at the conclusion of the meeting he can leave with the videotape in his possession. Am I on the right track?’
    ‘More or less,’ said Marie. ‘Give or take an inch here, a tuck there.’ She smiled as if she’d swallowed a mouthful of sugar.
    ‘Quite,’ said the barrister. ‘What terms were you going to propose to compensate the lady in question?’
    Marie took a breath. ‘Mr Blake is about to receive an insurance pay-out in excess of two million pounds,’ she said. ‘Joni Prine, who has been an invaluable aid in building up his present business, requires to be settled in her home town of Sunderland. We estimate that a one-off payment of one hundred thousand pounds should cover her moving expenses and allow her to purchase a moderate property for herself and her daughter.’
    The blood began draining from Edward Blake’s face. ‘Another one-off payment of the same amount,’ continued Marie, ‘would ensure that Joni’s daughter