Harry

By Malcolm Roscow

Fifteen-year-old private schoolboy Harry Hughes has been exchanging messages on an internet chat-room site with someone he thinks is a boy of his own age, but is actually a middle-aged Arab, who is part of a gang operating out of a Middle-Eastern embassy in London. The police are aware of them, but they are operating with impunity because they have diplomatic immunity.

Harry foils their plans and the police take the gang into custody. To bring about a successful prosecution, the police need to put Harry in the witness stand. Acknowledging that the abductions must be stopped, Harry’s parents agree to this. But when the Arab’s lawyers fail to get their clients released from custody, Eastern European thugs emerge from the woodwork and start to threaten and intimidate the family, leading to four people losing their lives.

Harry, Malcolm Roscow’s third novel, is a gritty tale full of suspense and intrigue. This is an expertly crafted thriller which is informed by the classics of the genre but has its own, singular personality.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Austin Macauley
• Release date: May 11, 2018
• ISBN: 9780463282540

Malcolm Roscow

After a long and successful career in the pulp and paper industry, during which he visited 68 countries on 5 continents and lived for seven years in the USA and a year in the Bahamas, British author Malcolm Roscow now lives on the Dorset coast and spends his time keeping fit at the gym and writing novels.

Book preview

Chapter 1

The annual Parents’ Ball was in full swing. The prestigious Hertfordshire private school booked this stately-home venue for their black-tie event every year and it was always well attended. Every table in the ballroom of Knebworth House was taken. There were crisp white tablecloths on the tables and the lights were low.

Max had found a table for four. It was at the rear of the room about as far from the dance floor as it was possible to get, but it had been the only table available when he and Sue arrived. On the table was a bottle of Chateau-bottled Bordeaux and a bottle of a South African Chardonnay. Max was drinking the claret, or sipping it, since he was driving. Sue was on her second glass of Chardonnay.

Veronica and Henry were late. That was nothing new; they were almost always late. When they finally arrived, Max stood and raised his hand.

They spotted him and made their way over. The twelve-piece band was between numbers, and the dance floor was momentarily deserted. They took a shortcut and walked diagonally across it.

The conversation in the room was loud, and getting louder. Later in the evening, people would be dancing on the tables. It happened every year. These people needed no instructions on how to party. They were successful, well-heeled people, many running their own business.

Max got to his feet.

Hello, you two, Veronica said, pecking Sue on the cheek. Sorry we’re late, my fault as usual. My, don’t you look handsome, she said, patting Max on the cheek. Evening dress suits you!

Max grinned. Flattery will get you everywhere. He shook Henry’s hand. Hello, Henry. You’re looking well.

Might say the same about you, Henry said.

Veronica was wearing a little black cocktail dress with a plunging neckline, and as he pulled out a chair for her, Max said, Love your dress, Veronica.

Veronica gave him a beaming smile. "You see, Henry, at least Max notices what I wear."

Almost all the women in the room, including Sue, were wearing full-length ball gowns, but Veronica did as she pleased. She was a hugely wealthy, not to mention strikingly attractive woman, and if Veronica wanted to wear short, she wore short.

She started getting ready at four o’clock this afternoon, for God’s sake, Henry grumbled. "And she’s changed her dress three times since. Max, do you know why women have to spend so much time getting ready? Because it’s beyond me."

I’m saying nothing, Max replied, wisely ducking the question.

Ignore him, Veronica, Sue said. All men have to do is shave, comb their hair and throw on a jacket.

Red, Veronica? Max said, reaching for the Bordeaux.

Veronica shook her head, her red hair bouncing around her face. Not tonight, Max, thank you. I’m in the mood for white tonight.

I’ll have red, Henry said.

Max put the Bordeaux down and picked up the Chardonnay. He poured Veronica a glass before topping up his wife’s glass. Then he picked up the Bordeaux again and poured Henry a glass, before putting another splash into his own glass.

They raised their glasses and clinked them. Happy days. It was their usual toast.

The two bottles were getting dangerously low and Max caught the eye of a passing waiter. He pointed to the bottles and made a circular motion with his finger. The waiter got the message and went off to get replacements.

So what have you two been up? Henry asked.

The usual boring stuff as far as I’m concerned, Sue replied. I drive the children to school in the mornings and I pick them up again in the afternoons. Then, when Max is away on business, which seems to be most of the time these days, I take the children to their friends, or wherever else they want to go. I don’t seem to be any more than their personal taxi service these days.

Oh dear, Henry said, patting her hand sympathetically. Poor you.

What about you, Max? Veronica said, picking up her glass. Have you been away this week? She took a sip of her wine.

Yes, I was in Sweden this week, Max said. I got back yesterday.

Good trip? Henry asked.

Max nodded. I would say so, yes.

Are you going to New York again in the near future? Henry asked.

Yes, the week after next. Max took a sip of his wine.

The waiter arrived with two more bottles of wine which, to make sure they were getting the same wine they were drinking, Max checked before the waiter uncorked them. He nodded. As the waiter uncorked them, Max emptied the remains of the original bottles into their glasses. The waiter then picked up the empties and left.

The band was playing a quickstep and people were making the most of it. The dance floor was packed to capacity.

Are New York still paying the children’s school fees, Max? Henry asked.

I assume so, Henry, Max replied, since no one has said anything to the contrary. I don’t even bother checking these days.

That was a wonderful deal you negotiated with them when you joined them, Veronica said. I don’t know anybody else who has their children’s school fees paid for them.

Wasn’t it, just? Max agreed. But that’s what happens when you get headhunted. It puts you in the strongest position of all. I got everything I asked for, and then some.

A stockinged-foot began to slide up the inside of his calf sending a tingle up his spine. He glanced at Veronica, who was sitting across the table from him. She was toying with the stem of her wine glass, a picture of innocence.

The quickstep ended and the band segued into a foxtrot. Several couples left the floor, leaving room for more.

They’re playing our tune, Veronica, Max said jokingly. May I have the pleasure?

I thought you’d never ask, Veronica replied, in the same jokey fashion. She removed her foot from Max’s calf and slipped on her shoe.

How about it, Sue? Henry said. Shall we?

Why not? Sue said, getting to her feet.

At six-foot-one, Max was taller than his wife by a foot, but when he was dancing with Veronica all he had to do to dance cheek-to-cheek with her was dip his head slightly.

In the heady atmosphere and with the band playing a melody that brought back memories for both of them, neither Max nor Veronica felt the need to say anything. It had been some time since they had danced together, and they savoured the moment.

They had met at the school about eighteen months ago. Max had been having a rare day off work and he had been sitting in his car in the drive at the front of the school waiting for the children to come out. Veronica had pulled up behind him in her open Mercedes sports car. She had come to pick up her son, Randy. They had got out of their cars, introduced themselves and started chatting. The attraction had been instantaneous, for both of them. Veronica was on her third husband and was not of a mind to go for a fourth. Max was on his first marriage and wanted to keep it that way. Although it had been a struggle, for both of them, especially as they met up as a foursome on a fairly regular basis.

She moved in close and breathed in his ear, I dressed for you tonight, Max.

"Veronica, please, Max croaked. It’s hard enough as it is. Don’t make it even more difficult."

She pressed herself against him. You know how I feel about you. And we can arrange things in such a way that Sue and Henry will never know.

Veronica … we agreed.

Every time I see you, I want you. It’s driving me mad. I can’t go on like this.

Distracted, Max almost danced them into Mr and Mrs Godley, the headmaster and his wife, who were moving along at a snail’s pace having mobile conversations with parents.

Because of the amount of time he was away on business, Max rarely visited the school, but he had met the headmaster on a couple of occasions. Good evening, headmaster, he said. He nodded and smiled at the headmaster’s wife. Mrs Godley.

Good evening, the Godleys replied, in unison. The headmaster looked vague, as if unsure of who Max was.

Max helped him out. Max Hughes, he said. Harry, Amanda and Clarissa’s father.

The penny dropped. Ah, yes, of course. Very nice to see you again, Mr Hughes.

You too, headmaster.

It’s nice to see the event so well-attended again, Mr Godley said.

Indeed, it is, Max agreed.

The headmaster was a serious man who was not given to making small talk, and the conversation - whilst brief - was formal and awkward. Max steered Veronica away from them as soon as he could.

"Max, for God’s sake say something."

"Veronica, what can I say? We’ve been through this before, several times. We both know the score."

Well, I can’t stand it any longer. I decided this morning that I was going to tell you tonight exactly how I feel about you. I’m besotted with you, Max. I’ve never felt this way about any other man.

Max steered them safely around a couple he knew slightly and forced himself to smile at them.

You’re not going off me, Max, are you?

Veronica, my feelings for you have not changed since the day we met. In fact, if anything, they’re stronger.

Then why haven’t you done something about it?

You know the answer to that, Veronica. I haven’t done anything about it because of our marriages, and our children.

You’re not seeing someone else, are you, Max? Veronica asked suspiciously.

Veronica, if I were seeing anyone else, it would be you. There’s no one else.

Am I wasting my time, Max?

Veronica, I should say yes to that question, but it isn’t that simple because I feel the same way about you.

I want you to make love to me tonight, Max. I don’t care how we arrange it. I’ve waited long enough.

And if it all went pear-shaped?

I can’t think that far ahead. All I can think of is how I feel about you at this very moment. If I had the choice, I would have you take me outside right now and make love to me in the car park if necessary. That’s how I feel about you.

Max was saved from having to think what to say by the band finishing the number they had been playing and people applauding and drifting back to their tables.

When they got back at their own table, Sue and Henry were embroiled in a conversation about the four of them taking a holiday together while the children were away in Italy with the school. Sue brought Max and Veronica up to speed, and then said, Henry and I think it’s a great idea. How do you two feel about it?

When is the school trip? Max said, reaching for the bottle to top up Veronica’s glass.

The end of July, Sue said. Do keep up, Max. I told you that the other day.

I think it’s wonderful idea, Veronica said. Do say yes, Max?

Come on, old boy, Henry said. We’ve been talking about going away together for ages. Surely you can find time in your busy schedule for a holiday, especially since we’re talking almost four months ahead. And we’re only talking about a week.

Do say yes, Max, Veronica said.

I’m sure I can manage a week, Max said. Especially given that much notice. Did you have somewhere in mind?

Somewhere with some sun. Henry said, with feeling. I need to get away from this awful English weather.

As they talked it through, Max suggested that, since they would only be going away for a week, they should avoid anywhere that would involve a serious time change, like Florida. If we went to Florida, it would take us two days to get over the time change, and then it would be time to come home again. If we headed due south, like Spain, Portugal, or the Canaries, we’d be guaranteed sunshine and we wouldn’t have a time change to worry about.

What about Madeira? Sue suggested. It’s a four-hour flight, but we’d be in the same time zone. We’ve been there several times, but Max and I have never stayed at Reid’s. I’ve always wanted to give that a try.

That wouldn’t be much fun for Veronica and me, Henry said. We’ve stayed at Reid’s dozens of times. Why don’t we try somewhere none of us has ever been?

That makes sense, Max said. It’s always nice to try somewhere new. Any ideas?

I’m sure we’ll find something on the Internet, Veronica said.

Yes, I’m sure we will, Sue agreed. And, since I probably have more time on my hands than all of you busy people, why don’t I check it out and see what I can come up with?

General consensus was that this was an excellent idea.

While Max was dancing with Sue a little while later, he was thinking about his conversation with Veronica. The last thing he wanted was to lose Sue and cause a break-up in the family, but what Veronica had said about being besotted with him had bowled him over. The problem was, if it all went pear-shaped and ended up with Sue leaving him, what then? An affair was one thing, but a separation, or – God forbid – a divorce, was another thing altogether.

You’re very quiet, darling, Sue said, looking up into his eyes. Is everything all right?

Everything’s fine, he said, smiling at her. I was just enjoying the music, and being with you.

As he spoke these words, Max realised that a lie such as this would be nothing compared to the lies he would have to tell if he started a relationship with Veronica. Life would be one long lie.

From then on, the four friends talked and laughed and danced the night away. They left the dancing on the tables to the more inebriated of the revellers. Since Henry had also driven to the venue, he, like Max, was drinking sparingly.

As protocol demanded, the four of them danced the last waltz with their respective spouses. Whenever Max happened to glance at Veronica, he would find her looking at him. And vice versa.

Henry had been talking recently of getting himself a Jaguar sports car, and as they joined the throng heading out into the car park, Max asked him if he had bought one yet.

I certainly have, Henry said, beaming. I bought it last week and she’s a beauty. Come and have a look at her.

At the far end of the car park, tucked safely away from other cars, was a brand new Jaguar XKR coupe in metallic silver. There was a full moon and its image was reflected in the paintwork on the bonnet.

Sue walked round the car admiring its flowing lines. She’s a beauty, Henry. When are you going to give me a spin in her?

Well, Henry responded, if Max has no objections, I’ll take you for a spin right now. And then I’ll drive you home.

Max knew this would mean him driving Veronica home, which – all things considered – he would have preferred not to do, but he knew he had no choice. He shrugged and said, That’s fine with me.

Good, Henry said. Then you take Veronica home.

Yes, why don’t you do that, Max? Veronica said, stifling a grin. Why don’t you take me home?

Max said nothing. He knew when he was beaten.

He and Veronica stood in the cool early-morning air and watched the sports car roar off into the distance. Then, Veronica slipped her arm through his and they walked to his car – a Jaguar saloon – with his arm pressed firmly against her breast.

Veronica had refreshed her perfume before leaving the building, and with her sitting next to him and toying with his emotions, Max found the atmosphere in the car almost overwhelming. He started the engine and let his window down in the hope some fresh air would help.

Before he put the car in gear, Veronica took his hand in hers. You do realise, Max, that we have to make the most of this. We can’t let the evening end with you just driving me home. We might never have another opportunity like this.

Max argued, But if we did go somewhere and Sue and Henry got to your house before we did, how would we explain it?

We could say we went for a drive too, and that we obviously went for a longer drive than they did.

Max was struggling. If he took Veronica for a drive, it wouldn’t end there. It would almost certainly result in them starting a full-blown affair, which could end in disaster. That wouldn’t be fair on Sue, and it wouldn’t be fair on the children. They had done nothing wrong.

I’m sorry, Veronica, he said. But as much as I would like to take you for a drive, and whatever that entailed, I think it would be better if I just drove you home.

Alright, Max, Veronica said. But don’t expect me to stop trying. Because I won’t.

The drive to the ivy-covered manor house that Henry and Veronica owned - or rather Veronica owned and Henry lived in - took no more than twenty minutes. Throughout the drive neither of them spoke. They were both breathing heavily and Veronica was making it difficult for Max to concentrate on his driving by running her fingernail up and down the back of his hand, which was sending tingles up and down his spine.

There was a high-walled courtyard at the front of the house, in the middle of which was a wishing well, around which was a turning circle. Max swung the car round it, stopped, put the automatic into park and put the handbrake on. He left the engine running.

I suppose you leaving the engine running means you’re not coming in, Veronica said.

I’m afraid so.

It’s a shame it has to end like this when we have such an opportunity.

I know, Veronica, but …

Couldn’t you at least come in for a coffee?

What would be the point? You know what it would lead to.

Do I at least get a kiss?

Max leaned over and gave her a peck on the cheek.

Well, I suppose that’s better than nothing, Veronica said. She looked into his eyes and stroked his cheek. You’re a lovely man, Max. What a shame you weren’t available before I married Henry.

Max gave her a long searching look, before climbing out of the car and walking round and opening her door for her. He waited until she had walked to the house and opened the front door, and then said, Goodnight, Veronica. And I’m sorry, I really am.

You’re sure you won’t come in?

Veronica, at the moment I’m not sure of anything.

Veronica stood in the doorway and watched him drive towards the courtyard gates. She blew him a kiss.

He didn’t see it. He drove home with his emotions all over the place and desperately trying to hold it all together.

Chapter 2

Wanting to show Sue she was not just a taxi service for the children and that he did care and he did listen, Max had taken the afternoon off work and had driven up from his office in London to pick up the children. He was sitting in his car outside the school.

Max was a firm believer in giving his children the best education he could. He believed that your education is a part of you, a part that nobody can take away from you, a part that sets you up for life. When you leave school and start work, it is on your CV for all to see. It gives you confidence, and it provides a springboard to the future, opening up opportunities that would otherwise not be available to you.

The same had not been true of the education his father had given him. He had not been picked up from school and driven home in a Jaguar. For him to get home from school, which was in a grimy mill town in Lancashire, he had to take a bus, a train, and then another bus.

He looked at the lovely old building across the drive from where he sat. Once a stately home, with twelve acres of rolling meadows and centuries old hardwood trees, and now a private day and boarding school with a heated outdoor swimming pool and six tennis courts, it was a far cry from the brick and slate roofed school he had attended. He allowed himself a moment of pride for what he had achieved in life.

Many of the boarders were from overseas; the progeny of parents who lived in far-flung places and had no room in their busy lives for the children they had spawned, although some simply wanted their children to be educated at a very good English school. As to the day pupils, before the advent of the Internet many of these had been the progeny of local, and not so local, old money. But since the advent of the Internet, there was much more new money at the school than old, and it was easy to spot the difference. The new money picked up their offspring in brand new top-of-the range vehicles that they leased and changed every year, and in which they chattered incessantly into their mobile phones while waiting for their progeny to come out of school. The old money had nothing to prove to anybody. They were not concerned about what other people thought. They owned their cars and they kept them for years, changing them only when they were giving trouble. And they used their mobile phones only when absolutely necessary.

Parked behind him was a line of seven or eight expensive late-model cars and SUVs, all driven by relatively young women.

Immediately behind him was a space that had just been vacated by a woman whose child had just skipped merrily out of school, and in his offside wing mirror, Max watched a familiar Mercedes sports convertible slide smoothly into the space. As Veronica climbed out and started walking towards his car, Max’s heart started thudding heavily in his chest. She knocked on his window.

He let the window down.

What are you doing here? she said.

I took the afternoon off. I’m giving Sue a break.

Well, wonders never cease. There may be hope for you yet.

He started to get out of the car.

No, don’t get out, Veronica said, pushing the door shut. I’ll get in. She walked round the car and climbed into the front passenger seat and closed the door.

She was wearing the same perfume she had worn to the school’s Parent’s Ball two weeks ago and the memory of how close he had come to losing control of himself came flooding back. He told himself to get a grip.

Sue emailed me this morning about our holiday, Veronica said. "She was suggesting the Marbella