by Geoff Wolak
* * *
The chairman of The Lodge called the ‘special’ meeting to order. ‘We have a complete picture now of who tried to kill Beesely. I think that the inheritance was somewhat dubious.’
‘Of course it was, it’s Beesely! How else would he end up in that position? I wouldn’t be surprised if he hadn’t been planning this for forty years.’
The chairman nodded, others approving of the notion and rapping their knuckles on the table.
‘Seems like the bomb was aimed at this young man, Otto, who was probably in on it; helping Beesely get into power. Seems like the former head of K2 offered money to various political groups who never received the funds after his death. Amateur Nazi group, amateur bomb with old Serbian nerve agent. And Beesely is mopping up.’
‘Should we give him a hand?’ Henry risked.
The chairman cut the end off a cigar. ‘If he needed it, he would ask. He’s still playing the role, so let him. We’ll make contact when this settles down.’
‘Any news on ‘the bank society’?’ a man asked.
‘Not yet. But I am sure that he’ll have to tread very carefully, even a sniff in that direction could be fatal. That’s why I think he did all the eccentric stuff, had to look more like him and less like us. He had to, has to, look like someone who has inherited the money … and do what someone like that might do. The last thing he can afford to do is behave like himself.’
‘What do we hope to achieve, exactly, from gaining access to this bank society?’ a man asked, earning a few glances for his lack of insight.
Oliver hid a smile. ‘Many of the world’s governments make use of Swiss clearing houses, a lot of it known to only a few senior figures. North Korea, Iran, Syria, Russia, you name it. The IRA had accounts, Red Brigade, ETA. Even Bin Laden has accounts. Whoever has their eye on those accounts and movements has an eye on the world. Could end organized crime overnight. Accessing that group could be the single most significant event of the past sixty years.’
3
‘We have Helmut Graf,’ Otto flatly stated, no joy in his words.
Johno stood and stretched his back, Beesely sat staring into a mug of coffee.
Otto continued, ‘Thanks in part to Ricky.’ He recounted the story of what Ricky had done.
‘Improvisation,’ Johno pointed out, wagging a finger. ‘On the spot decision making, that’s what your boys could do with more of.’
Otto did not look as if he agreed.
Beesely waved him to a chair. ‘Leave Ricky to me. Now, where is Graf?’
‘We intercepted the ambulance, drove him to the airfield. Helicopter will be here in twenty minutes.’
‘Good. I think we have some … comfortable accommodation for him.’