Anything Considered by Peter Mayle Read Free Book Online Page A

accounts in my name with the local tradesmen and two or three restaurants, sign for everything. I’ll give you a specimen signature. You’ll find it’s easier to fake if you turn it upside down. You’ll get the hang of it in a fewhours.” Poe grinned at Bennett and spread his hands wide. “Not too taxing, is it? I think that’s the appropriate word.”
    Bennett finished his brandy, resisted the temptation to have another one, and tried to conceal his excitement at the prospect of being paid to live like a millionaire. Of course it was a scam, but it was a scam with a deserving victim.
    Poe sabotaged Bennett’s good intentions by pouring another tot of brandy into his glass. “How does that appeal to you? Questions? Reservations?”
    “Well, I must admit there are one or two. I mean, you’ve only just met me, and here you are making me an accomplice in a tax dodge.”
    “Does that bother you? You said yourself that everybody cheats. Is this really going to affect anyone except you and me? Will France collapse? Will old pensioners be thrown out of their homes? Will hospitals close down? Will there be nationwide suffering, and a run on the franc? Will the president of the Republic have to give up his four-course lunches at Lipp, or wherever he goes nowadays?”
    “No,” said Bennett. “Put like that, I suppose not.”
    “So if we assume that our social conscience is clear, what else should we worry about? The risk of discovery?”
    “There’s always that chance.”
    “Minimal,” said Poe. “Unless, of course, one of us is indiscreet.” An eyebrow went up, and he smiled. “I can promise you it won’t be me.”
    “But supposing—just supposing, only a hypothetical possibility in a situation like this—
I
turned out to be less than discreet. In fact”—Bennett was by now made bold by brandy—“supposing I did the six months and then … well, screwed you. Blackmailed you, or something. How could you trust me not to do that?”
    Poe sighed, as if explaining a simple concept to a dense child. “Business dealings should never be dependent on trust, as I’m afraid you learned with your friend Brynford-Smith.” He looked at Bennett for a moment, letting the thought sink in. “I know we’re talking hypothetically, so you mustn’t take this personally. But if you were to do anything … embarrassing, I would deny ever having met you, and sue you for forgery, theft, and criminal impersonation. It would be tedious for me, but much worse for you. My lawyers are not kindly people, and French prisons are extremely disagreeable. Or so I’m told.”
    Bennett blinked. “I could skip the country.”
    “And I could find you. Or rather, Shimo could find you. He’s a very resourceful man.”
    Bennett had a sudden mental picture of what the noiseless Japanese would do to him, and it wouldn’t be to give him a glass of champagne. He looked at Poe’s amiable, relaxed expression. The man had a friendly, understated way of imparting a threat that Bennett found infinitely more believable than bluster.
    Poe laughed, and came across to clap Bennett on the shoulder. “But let’s not spoil a pleasant evening. This canbe our little secret, an arrangement of mutual convenience. Think about it. You will spend the summer in great comfort, with money in your pocket; I shall stay here, which is where I want to be. The only one to suffer will be the taxman, and I feel we’ve both been more than generous to him in the past.” Poe took a final puff of his cigar and tossed the butt into the fire. “And who knows? I might be able to help you find your vanishing sailor friend. I know a few people in the Caribbean.”
    Bennett could see himself in Monaco—solvent, well fed, with time on his hands to work out the rest of his life. What were the alternatives? An office job, if he could find one. Driving a Saudi prince up and down the Croisette. Or another summer of living from hand to mouth in the Lubéron. Shit. Wasn’t