by Brian Cain
CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR
Even faceless men at times fear detection, for all saints have a past and all sinners a future. Since the introduction of network social and commercial information channels available to everyone, throwing stones whilst in glass houses can shatter the most powerful fronts, with just the click of a mouse.
There were only two of them, they choose a spot way above everyone, where they liked to be. Looking down over the city between floors fifty three to sixty five of the The Shard building in the area of Southwark near London Bridge. In a spacious living area of a luxury apartment the glass outer shell of the building gave an impressive view, whilst sitting on the leather lounge next to the window one could imagine you were floating in mid air. One spoke English in a foreign accent, the other of British aristocracy, they spoke of an incredibly stupid mistake and how to attend to it.
The foreigner was angry. 'Who is this Winston Blake.'
'A retired merchant banker, left the Hornswaddle and Fothrington fortune, he worked for them nearly all his working life.'
'Hornswaddle and Fothrington were pigs, when can you arrange to have this man meet with an accident.'
'Blake has become very cunning, he had a security advisor in Australia that wrote the book on the subject. His influence and power has become a damn nuisance. Rumoured he has his own satellite system to communicate, we have no idea what he's up to. He has links to MI6 and his Flax Burton complex manager an attractive and well know woman currently engaged to a member of the police force at Scotland Yard.'
'I arranged for his entire horse stock to be eradicated, the fear will mould him into a mere pawn, when his horses are strewn about him without life he will crumble.'
'That's why I agreed to meet you, what moron did you give that job to, people aren't telling you the truth, they just tell you what you want to hear, they fear you far more than Blake fears anyone.'
'I am told the truck is there in his place, they will be feeding the poison to his stock as we speak.'
'Well jolly good but the truck, lorry or whatever you want to call it, is impounded in a police yard in Bristol not far from Blake's operation.'
The man was silent, he looked at his cohort with cold scorn, his dark features cringing with rage, he threw his headdress to one side as it had fallen across one side of his face. 'You are forgetting I supply all the money, I expect results, I was forced to act as you have bungled along enough. You were sure we would succeed in ruining this mans interests, they are beginning to dominate the market. I am told it is working yet you are telling me otherwise.'
'Couple of things we didn't expect, one being a horse that convinced the market to use what it eats and the other a thrust by Blake to enter the steeplechase game. At the same time we thought we had control of these things and were well placed to succeed in destroying all opposition especially Blake the main target. Your little escaped has made it impossible to attempt any further market control. Blake is shifting the political goalposts and I have to adapt or perish.'
'You have become useless, not a good position to be in.'
'Don't threaten or dictate to me man, one click by Blake on a mouse and you and I will be the most hunted people on the planet.'
'There may be more accidents than you anticipate.'
The Brit got up and downed his expensive brandy. 'Well, this will be the last time we speak, come after me and I'll drop the bucket on you. Go after Blake and you'll vanish. Blake is actually becoming of great use, I would be able to convince no one at present that your plan is of any use at all. Go after him and you'll have everyone up your arse ol man, including us.' He put his glass on the low table in front of his cohort. 'I'll se myself out.'
'Leave this room and you are a fool.'
'Heh, indeed.'
'I will think of something, then you will see me again.'
'The police have that lorry and the driver, they arrested a barman working in a pub in Bristol today linked to the case. They also found the bodies of the Barton's yesterday, I would think in about a month they'll be knocking on peoples doors and one may be yours, as you can imagine man, I know nothing about it. You decided to play lumberjacks you'll have to handle your end of the log.'
'You are a pig, where I come from pigs are the worst.'
'I'm quite partial to a touch of bacon in the morning, good day.'
'Agreed we have problems but we can make some kind of deal.'
He was at the door turning around as he grabbed the handle, his cohort had stood up looking toward him. 'Go home, before you cause any more problems.'
'You will not leave the building.'
'Sorry ol man but brought some help with me this time, bit of back up waiting downstairs, should I not return they will come looking for me.'
'You fool you bring the authorities to my door.'
'You're forgetting ol boy, I am the authorities.' He opened the door pushing past the two burly men outside in the corridor, he made his way to the lift.