by Tony Davies
The small dance floor had been overrun with people and the bar at the far end of the room had people three deep trying to be served. The policy of not allowing drinks to be bought in from the front bar, where they were cheaper, didn’t mean anyone in the rear area had to go thirsty. It did mean they had to be patient.
Mack fought his way to the back of the room and eventually spotted Em. She was in a slightly elevated corner of the room and was dancing seductively in front of an expat who Mack guessed was around his age. The man was carrying a little fat around his waistline, although he had powerfully built shoulders and forearms. He was wearing a white business shirt with the sleeves rolled up and a large watch on his left wrist. His hair was cropped short, but not aggressively so and he had the appearance of an investment banker who had once been in good shape but was now slowly losing it due too many business lunches and too few workouts.
Mack assumed Em had not come straight from the office as she was provocatively dressed in tight fitting designer jeans and an even tighter white blouse. The top three buttons were undone and her bulging cleavage was drawing furtive glances from several nearby men. Her performance reminded Mack of the lap dancers he had seen in Spearmint Rhino on his last trip to London.
Mack moved slowly through the crowd and as he got closer he saw the man stroke Em’s hair with his hand. As she smiled and moved closer he placed his hand on her buttock and squeezed. Em pulled away slightly, threw her head back and laughed. She ran her hands though her hair and moved her hips closer to his and as she did so she whispered something in his ear.
Mack turned to leave and bumped into a short, heavily built Chinese woman stood behind him. She looked up at him with a scowl on her face. Before he could speak she shouted loudly enough in Cantonese for him to hear that he was an ignorant pig who should look where he was going. Mack’s reply in Cantonese that he was born in the year of the monkey and was not a pig made her gasp and she put her hand to her mouth. He smiled at her and was about to apologise but he felt a hand on his shoulder and he turned to find Em facing him.
Em was smiling and said something to him but her voice was drowned out by the music. She grabbed his hand and began dragging him towards the investment banker. Mack initially tried to resist her efforts, but she pulled harder so he reluctantly gave in and followed her.
“You must be the new boyfriend” the man bellowed in a slow American drawl. The only item missing was the Stetson and Mack inwardly groaned. The tone wasn’t overly aggressive so he looked impassively at the banker and waited for him to say something further.
Em stepped between them and as she did so the banker said “She is quite a mover isn’t she.” He paused before saying “The real deal.”
Mack looked at him and slowly shook his head. The comments were intended to draw a response, but it was a game he wasn’t interested in playing. He had been involved in similar situations in the past, most of them caused by too much testosterone and alcohol. They never ended well and he had learnt that walking away was by far the best option.
Sensing that Mack was not going to respond the banker edged closer and said “Nothing to say for yourself? You mind if I step in here?”
Mack smiled at him and then spoke to Em. “Your friend is a little drunk, so are you are. Let’s go somewhere a little quieter.”
It wasn’t said as a question, but he looked pensively at her waiting for a response. He could accept her dancing provocatively with the guy, after all, it was not as if they were in a serious relationship. And besides, she was entitled to have fun. It was time to move on though, before things got ugly.
Before Em could speak the banker went on “I take it that was a no? I think she should stay here, we seemed to be getting on just fine.”
He stepped forward and tried to put his arm around her shoulder but she recoiled away and moved away from both of them.
In a monotone voice that betrayed no emotion Mack said “I think that is your answer. Let’s leave it at that.”
He met eye contact with the banker and held his gaze for a few moments. He really didn’t want this to descend into a brawl. He wasn’t in the best physical condition after his recent beating, and even if he had been, there was little to be gained. A drunken brawl over a woman would serve no purpose at all.
The banker held up his arms in a mock show of surrender.
“Okay, okay, I get the message. You are a pussy. Why don’t we sort this out like men. The winner gets the girl.” He glared provocatively at Mack inviting a response.
Em stepped between them and shouted loudly “Stop it. This is all my fault. Come on, we are going.”
She took Mack’s arm and tried to lead him away. Mack initially refused to move as he focused his glare on the banker. His instinct was telling him there was more to this than a loud American pushing his weight around. For whatever reason, it didn’t feel right and the thought flashed through his mind that it was all a set up. Paranoia raising its ugly head again or his police training kicking in and telling him something was wrong? It didn’t matter. He turned and walked out of the room leaving Em staring at him in amazement as he did so.
Chapter twenty five
Exploring options
Paul Bent was sat in the Westminster boardroom reflecting on the meeting that had just finished. The others had left the room but he had hung back, making a show of tidying the file in front of him and then checking his phone for messages. The meeting had been chaired by Troy Wilson and in Bent’s opinion reflected the general malaise that was affecting most if not all of Westminster’s operations.
As the company had grown it had become more and more bureaucratic and institutionalized. It had now got to the point where the most important person in the organization seemed to be the Compliance Officer. Complying with the regulatory guidelines set down by the Securities and Futures Commission was all well and good, but the never-ending stream of forms and procedure checks necessary to get anything done was hampering the growth of the business. At least, in his opinion it was.
And then there was Wilson himself, who epitomized Westminster’s problems. He was technically sound and had a good grasp of how to structure a deal, but he had no backbone. He acquiesced to Weston on every point and seemed determined not to challenge him on anything. Mention the SFC and he ran for cover. He seemed perpetually worried that the regulator would go after individuals within the company if any rules were breached. They were all like that. The first thing he would do if he were in charge was fire him. That would send a message to the rest of them that it was time to take the gloves off, become more aggressive and achieve what they were capable of.
Bent’s frustration grew as he sat in the boardroom alone. His thoughts turned to his role within Westminster, which had changed in the past twelve months. That he was good at his job was not in question and he knew that Weston appreciated what he brought to the group. His frustration lay in the fact he knew he could bring much more than that. Rather than dealing with problems and ‘business intelligence and research’ as he sometimes referred to it, he should be directly involved in establishing overall strategy and setting up new deals.
He was the first to admit that Weston was a hard taskmaster and set high standards for everyone. But sometimes it needed someone to step in and push the bean counters and pen pushers to the rear so real progress could be made. Weston seemed reluctant to do this or perhaps he was just oblivious to the problem. A very intelligent and driven man who couldn’t see the wood from the trees was an apt way to describe him.
His thoughts were interrupted when Weston entered the room. He was as impeccably dressed as always and seemed fresh and relaxed despite the obvious strain he was under. He strode over to the table and asked “What are you doing in here on your own?”
His demeanor was friendly enough and Bent replied “Just gathering my thoughts after a meeting with Wilson’s team.”
Weston smiled. “A reflective moment. No harm in that. We could all benefit from slowing down s
ometimes and assessing where we are up to and how we should go forward.”
Bent looked at him and wondered whether he knew the extent of his frustration. He doubted it. Weston was a very astute man, but he had too much on his plate to give much time to his concerns.
“Why did you want to speak to Lee Wai on his own? What came out of that?” He kept the tone neutral. Weston was his boss after all.
“Ah, Troy told you then. The Chinese face thing. He was never going to concede anything in front of his team.”
“So did he concede anything in private?”
Weston paused for a moment before saying “No, he didn’t. I am hopeful progress will be made shortly though.”
Bent was puzzled by the reply. He was certain that Weston would not have suggested he and Lee talk privately unless he had a reason for doing so. ‘Chinese face’ was nonsense. So why wasn’t he prepared to divulge what was said?
Bent’s tone remained neutral. “I gather from Wilson that the figures will work if the independent valuer is even half honest. Of course, we miss out on maximizing our return if we have to go down that route.”
Weston’s face showed a look of defiance when he replied “Wilson may well be right, but I don’t give up that easily when it comes to making a profit for Westminster. Aside from the fact there is a lot of money involved, I think we should be able to out maneuver government on this issue and I have no intention of letting a salaried hack like Lee get the better of us.”
“Andrew, how far are you prepared to go on this? Lee Wai might be persuaded to come to the party if we used the Stephen Chan allegation to our advantage. Shall I go on?”
Weston nodded his head and Bent then said “It’s strange that the caller has not been in contact with us again. First the call, then the photograph and then nothing. He has actually armed us with something which Lee, in all probability, would not want made public. It doesn’t matter if it is true, there is enough evidence to ruin Lee’s career if it is made public. The caller presumably believed we would not want the information released. Lee might want to avoid that more than us. He might want it enough to give you what you want.”
Weston looked at him and carefully considered his reply. Bent had not asked the obvious question, which was whether that was what he had said to Lee during their private conversation. He was far too good an operator to ask that question.
Blackmailing a senior government official to approve the project and condone a big payout to Westminster was a high stakes poker game if ever there was one. It was an obvious option, but not one to be taken lightly.
The fact was that he hadn’t mentioned it to Lee. There were a number of things to consider before he would do that. He had simply asked him what it would take to get the government to agree to his terms. The fact Lee stuck by his previous position did not surprise him. Government servants were not known for their flexibility.
If they went down the route of coercing Lee to do the deal he would have to be personally insulated from the fall out as much as possible. His company might not be so lucky, but it might be possible to structure a situation where the fall guy was Bent. After all, he would be the one in charge of the operation so if it went wrong then it was only fair that he be the one to suffer. Westminster’s reputation would nose dive, but every company had its share of rogue operators and as long as he had not acted with Weston’s authority then the company would survive. All of which was irrelevant if Bent hit a home run, as he usually did.
“Your suggestion is one solution Paul. But it borders on a criminal act and of course, we could never openly condone such a thing.” The word ‘openly’ was not lost on either of them.
Bent decided to push a little further. “We have done such things before and they got results. I think we have enough to deal with Lee. If we do it, I assume you will want me to handle it personally?”
“Well, that is a hypothetical question Paul. Westminster can’t do that and that is the end of the subject. Let Troy finish his negotiations and depending on how successful he is we can always revert to other means of getting the deal done on our terms.”
They both sat in silence for a few moments before Weston got up and walked to the door. After he had left the room Bent removed a tape recorder from his jacket pocket and turned the record button off.
Chapter twenty six
Not what was expected
At precisely 9.59 am the next morning Bent walked through the front door of Mackworth and Associates. He was dressed in an Armani suit, Thomas Pink shirt and Church shoes. The cuff links were gold with a blue yacht motif and the Hermes tie was mint green with diagonal lilac stripes, which contrasted nicely with the white shirt and dark blue jacket. At least in his opinion it did.
If Lindy had been asked she would probably have agreed. She was expecting him but had no idea what he looked like. Her first impression was good looking, nice smile and expensive clothes. Mack had two of those attributes, but the third was never going to happen no matter how rich he became.
“My assistant says you are very efficient, which is quite a compliment coming from her. We must arrange for you guys to have lunch. You will have a lot in common.”
“Yes, we must. Let me show you into the boardroom.”
Lindy stepped forward and showed him into a room, which, while far less salubrious than the boardroom in Westminster’s offices, was nevertheless well appointed and comfortable. Bent looked at a print on the wall and admired it for a moment. It was a black and white portrait of a Chinese family, with the son’s face painted in red.
“It’s a nice picture isn’t it. Mack chose it” remarked Lindy.
“Yes, I like contemporary Chinese art.” He inclined his head towards the picture and said “Especially the work of Zhang Xiaogang. Timeless genealogy with an unerring sense of history. Individual histories within the confines of a family, as one expert put it.”
“You sound quite knowledgeable. Are you a collector?”
“Only a very modest one regrettably. I spent some time in Beijing and had a friend there who was heavily into the art scene. I knew little about art at the outset, but as long as you only buy what you like you can’t go too far wrong. Once you start collecting it becomes a passion, even an obsession, so over the years I have probably spent far too much money on it.”
He said it in a self-deprecating manner and Lindy found herself liking the man.
She replied “I am the same with music. I like collecting original vinyl’s from the 70s and 80s.”
“That is unusual. Any particular bands?” His voice expressed genuine interest.
“I have all the Beatles albums as well as bands like the Stones. My next project is the Kinks, but their stuff is harder to get hold of. Despite studying in the US, I like the British sound more than the American. Tamla Motown isn’t my sort of thing.”
“Me neither. But if I am honest I am not much of a music buff. The occasional CD at home, mostly as background though, Café del Mar, Moby, that sort of thing.”
Lindy had formed an image in her mind of Bent based on comments made by Mack. She struggled to reconcile it with the man in front of her. Her thoughts were interrupted when Mack came into the room.
“Good morning, you found our office okay?” Mack put his coffee cup on the table and sat down. “I assume you have been offered tea or coffee?”
Bent replied “I was just about to say no thank you before you came in.”
He smiled at Lindy who turned and walked out of the room. “I hope you don’t mind me coming to your office like this. Andrew would like a brief update on where you are up to. How are you getting on?”
Mack told him that the evidence was pointing towards a relationship of some sort between Lee and Chan, but up to that point there was nothing conclusive.
Bent asked what else could be done to verify the affair and Mack told him he expected further information from a reliable source in the next few days. Bent did not ask who the source was.
After Mack had
finished talking about Lee Bent asked about Chan’s death.
Mack’s reply was straight forward “The police aren’t saying much although that is to be expected. We should have the autopsy report later today and I am guessing it will be inconclusive. That means that unless there is something else to warrant further investigation the police won’t pursue it.
“Whether there is something else is debatable and I don’t think we should second guess that. Let’s see what they decide. By the way, I am surprised your caller hasn’t been in touch again. It makes no sense to approach you and then not follow up.”