by Janet Rogers
For a few moments Nick looked at her thoughtfully before he spoke again. ‘Probably. But slow down, Amelia. Probably, not definitely.’
‘You trust your sources, right?’
‘That’s the difficult part. Yes and no. The people I heard it from are generally reliable, but in big business, especially in the mining business, and even more so in Russia, deception and misinformation are not uncommon occurrences.’
He reached across the table and gently tapped the back of her hand with one finger. ‘Did you hear me, Amelia?’
The touch slowed her down. Okay,’ she nodded and took a deep breath, ‘I heard you.’
‘Good, it’s really important that you do. This could still mean nothing. Jumping to conclusions at this point could be counterproductive at the least.’
‘I understand that, but for argument’s sake, though, let’s assume that it isn’t misinformation, or disinformation, for that matter.’
‘Okay,’ Nick nodded, letting her run with it.
‘First question is: does Sibraz know?’ Amelia asked, making an attempt to stay focused and think through the implications one by one.
‘I don’t know the answer to that yet. One would think so. It’s almost impossible to believe that they wouldn’t know.’
‘So, theoretically the Canadians found out and decided to sell their stake immediately, before it would become known to the wider market, to ensure that they would still be able to find a company to take their place in the joint venture, right?
‘It’s a possible scenario, yes. It’s the most obvious explanation.’
‘If it was at all possible, they wouldn’t have wanted Sibraz to know so that they would be able to get out of the deal without too much hassle, but if Sibraz did know, surely they wouldn’t have much choice in allowing Prism to sell?’
‘Maybe, maybe not. It would all depend on the details of the contract between them, but there is always some uncertainty when a deposit is being explored. Typically a partner can’t back out simply because the deposit is smaller than everyone thought it was. But, given the complicated history of the deal, Sibraz probably wouldn’t have had too much say in forcing them to honour the contract,’ Nick said, ‘but it’s a question of timing. The company who had access to this information first would have been the one with more leverage in negotiating the terms of the dissolution of the partnership.’
‘Nick,’ Amelia said carefully, ‘you said it’s only a semi-trustworthy rumour.’
‘Unfortunately that’s all I have right now.’
‘I’m wondering if and how one could substantiate this. I never thought I’d involve anyone in this, but do you think it would be possible to find out the true value of the deposit? And more importantly, the timing – who knew what when?’
Nick frowned lightly. ‘That’s a tough one. The project’s chief geologist should know. Or perhaps Prism negotiated to have their own geologist check the findings.’
‘Do you know who the chief geologist is? Or anyone close to him?’
‘No.’
‘Is it something you could find out?’
He thought for a moment. ‘I think so. But it’ll take time. And you have to bear in mind that, even if we have a name, everyone involved in the project would most likely have signed confidentiality clauses. If that doesn’t deter them from talking, fear will. It would be hard to even get close to anyone with deeper knowledge of the whole thing.’ He watched her for a moment. ‘Sorry, that’s not what you wanted to hear, I know, but it’s the reality of the situation.’
Amelia shrugged. ‘It’s still worth pursuing, don’t you think?’ She couldn’t get dejected about the likelihood of it being another dead end. Hadn’t she known that things wouldn’t be easy?
‘I’ll look into it,’ Nick offered.
‘Are you sure?’
‘It’s a long shot and I don’t want you to have unrealistic expectations, but I’ll look into it,’ he said again.
‘Thank you, Nick. I appreciate this.’ Mara’s persistence about talking to him was starting to make sense.
A waiter came over to take their orders.
‘Do you know anything about this third party who took over Prism’s stake?’ Amelia asked when they were alone again.
‘EME? It’s not a major player, it’s listed in the UK, has money to invest in global expansion and, as far as I can tell, doesn’t know a thing about the rumoured lesser value of the deposit.’
Again Amelia was silenced by his words. So far, almost everything was conjecture on their part and even that seemed too complicated to decipher.
‘This could be at the root of what happened to Robert. Maybe he found out,’ she said.
Nick didn’t reply, but listened carefully as she continued.
‘Robert was trying to save the deal, but he would have wanted to warn Prism if he found out, and it would have changed the situation completely. Before this I thought he wouldn’t have been enough of a threat to them, but if Sibraz knew about the lower value, it would have given them a very strong motive to silence him.’
‘Yes, but only if they knew about the lesser value of the deposit. Remember, they were the ones who were trying to dissolve the partnership in the first place,’ Nick reminded her.
Amelia fell silent. This was getting more complicated by the second. ‘If someone like Robert found out, the Russians would have gained nothing from exiting the partnership. If this all came to light during negotiations, they would have reversed their agenda and would have wanted to keep the deal intact, wouldn’t they?’
Nick nodded slowly. ‘Possibly. If you assume a number of things, but they could still have spun it any way they wanted to, though. Logical, linear reasoning is not always applicable in assessments of Russian business practices.’
They were both silent for a few moments, each considering what Nick’s discovery meant. The waiter came back and placed a platter if sushi and sashimi between them.
‘What about the Canadians?’ Nick asked.
‘What about them?’
‘What if they found out at the same time Robert did?’
‘I would imagine they would be pleased to find out sooner rather than later. And if they did, why would they see Robert as a threat? He was on their side and would have wanted to help them.’
‘They wouldn’t have been too happy to find out about the value of the deposit. It would have implied the loss of a significant amount of money. These deals require a lot of money to be set up in the first place. I don’t think they would have been able to sell their stake for the same amount once the news of the lesser deposit became known.’
‘That may be so,’ Amelia persisted, ‘but surely it would have been better to lose some money in the short term rather than continue to spend money and end up not generating the huge profit they were expecting.’
Nick shrugged and half-nodded. He was about to say something when his phone rang.
He glanced at the screen. ‘Amelia, excuse me, I’m going to step outside to take this quickly.’
She nodded and watched as a few long strides took him to the restaurant’s door. His blonde head disappeared from sight.
She still couldn’t believe that her intuition had been right about the deal between Prism and Sibraz. Had Robert had the same gut feeling about it? She knew how dogged he could be about following his instincts. What if it was his own persistence that had placed him in danger? They needed to track down the project’s geologist, of that she was certain.
Nick appeared next to the table. His face was unreadable. Amelia took a bite of sashimi and waited for him to sit down.
When he’d also picked up a bite, she asked. ‘Why are you suspicious of the Canadians?’
‘I’m not,’ Nick replied evenly, ‘but I did learn something else today. In fact, that’s what that phone call was about.’
Amelia leaned forward. ‘What is it?’ ‘Prism’s CEO, Bruce Jennings, has a bit of reputation for doing dirty deals.’ Amelia frowned an
d Nick continued: ‘I’d heard some things in the past, but never dealt with him myself, so I can’t be sure.
‘What things? What did you hear?’
Nick hesitated, apparently unwilling to share what he’d heard. ‘They’re rumours, most likely untrue.’
‘Tell me anyway.’
Nick sighed. ‘There was a story quite a few years ago about how he’d had a short-term agreement with a partner to divide exploration costs, and of course profits, fifty-fifty, but when the exploration was successful, he denied the deal ever existed and ruined his partner financially. But it was long ago and probably not true, which is why I spoke to some people who do know him or have done business with him.’
‘And?’
‘They all, like the person I just spoke to, agree that he is smart and super-driven . . .’
‘But?’
‘But he has in fact done some dodgy things like milking partners and underpaying suppliers. It’s only been on a few occasions and nothing huge, but he isn’t known in the industry as a man of admirable business ethics. The consensus is that it is advantageous to work with him as long as you can keep an eye on him.’ Nick stopped, but Amelia could tell there was something else, so she waited for him to continue. ‘You have to consider this, Amelia: if Robert had found out and threatened to disclose the truth, it also gives the Canadians a motive if keeping things quiet would have been better for them.’
Amelia was silent. Thoughts raced through her mind. It seemed far-fetched, ludicrous even, but she had to admit that Nick had a point, that his reasoning wasn’t unsound. She had, like so many others the year before, assumed that Sibraz was the guilty party, but other scenarios, ones she didn’t really want to believe, looked possible now. Nick was right, she would have to at least consider them.
She looked up at him. ‘Well, I didn’t expect this, but it certainly creates a few more possibilities, doesn’t it? I think it may be time for me to pay Prism a visit.’
11
The girl’s short skirt revealed a pair of slender legs straining on shiny, pointy high heels. Under the straight line of the dark bangs that lay heavily on her eyebrows, her eyes were cool and her scrutiny disdainful. Without saying a word, she turned on her heel and gestured for Amelia to follow. She didn’t look to see if Amelia was following, but simply marched to the lifts where she waited for her guest with an impatient curl of the lip.
It was difficult not to be a little amused by the attitude, but only because Amelia had seen and experienced it so many times before in Moscow. Here the unspoken rules of engagement meant that the one who managed to be the most intimidating, the coolest and least obliging, was superior and had the upper hand. Or maybe the girl had simply sensed from her boss that this may not be an entirely welcome visitor. The most important thing, however, was that he had agreed to see her. It was an opportunity she wasn’t about to squander.
Thirty minutes earlier, upon arrival at Prism’s swanky offices, she’d been told that Bruce Jennings was running late and hadn’t yet arrived. When he’d walked in ten minutes later and it had seemed that everyone had momentarily forgotten about her presence in the reception area, she’d used the moment to compare the man stopping at the reception desk with the face she’d seen in press photographs.
He looked smaller in person and was impeccably groomed, his greying hair thick and fashionably styled. Perhaps Nick’s account of the man’s lack of ethics had unduly influenced her, but she could sense a deep arrogance in him, a belief that he was, and should be, in charge.
Maybe sensing her eyes on him, he had half-turned his head and seen her waiting in the sleek reception area. The pause had been minuscule. He’d nodded briefly, his demeanour aloof, and had made her wait another twenty minutes before the sullen girl had approached her. Apparently she was meant to get some sort of message. He may have agreed to see her, but it would only be when he was good and ready to do so. Which was interesting, to say the least.
His office, as modern and immaculate as its owner, was empty when she was finally shown in by the girl. Stark black and white photographs of what appeared to be Canadian landscapes hung on one feature wall and on another she saw a selection of photos showing Jennings in various official situations, shaking hands with an array of people, including several prominent international dignitaries. She wandered over to get a closer look. Two heads of state and several well-known politicians were instantly recognisable. Many of the photographs showed a bald man at Jennings’ side. In each he wore the same beaming smile and even from the photos she could tell that there was an understanding, even closeness between the two men. Curious, she leaned in to read the names below the photographs and realised that she recognised the bald man’s name from her press clippings: Carl Riverton, Prism’s Head of Operations. She wondered if she would get to meet him too, if he guarded Jennings as closely as he seemed to in the photos.
Amelia turned to have a seat, wondering how long Jennings would keep her waiting. She was surrounded by spotless glass and chrome surfaces which reflected light from every angle. A perfect surface, but what would she find underneath the display of money, glamour and power?
Jennings’ cologne preceded him and Amelia sat straighter as she heard him enter the outer office. She turned her head as he rushed forward with outstretched hand. The coolness of earlier in the reception area was gone, and had now been replaced with unexpected warmth and charm.
‘Mrs Preston, I’m sorry to have kept you waiting. It has been a slightly hectic morning here,’ he explained as he took her warm hands in his cool ones. ‘I recognised you in the lobby. It’s nice to finally meet you.’
She nodded and waited for him to move to the other side of his desk, but instead he ushered her to a deep red, modern leather sofa standing in one corner of the large room.
‘Coffee? Tea? Something else?’ he asked, with his hand hovering over the telephone.
‘Nothing for me, thank you,’ Amelia answered, urging herself to stay as cool as he appeared to be. The change in his demeanour was disconcerting and she had no idea how to respond to it.
He pressed a button and asked for one coffee, then moved to take a seat next to her on the sofa instead of taking one of the armchairs that stood opposite. He frowned and leaned forward slightly, his hand outstretched again, as if he was about to touch her.
‘How are you?’
Amelia almost laughed, wondering if the show of sugary sympathy was an attempt to hide something else. The triteness of the gesture, however, had the effect of making her feel more confident. She smiled gently, and looked straight into his eyes. They were a cool grey and had unusual golden flecks in them.
‘I am fine, Mr Jennings, thank you for asking.’
He leaned back, and she thought she saw the warmth in his eyes diminish a little. For a moment it seemed that his charm-and-sympathy offensive wouldn’t last, but he proved her wrong and persisted.
‘It must feel strange to be back here – where it all happened.’
‘Yes, it is somewhat,’ Amelia answered as the door opened and the same unsmiling girl walked in, carefully balancing a tray.
‘Thank you, that will be all,’ Bruce Jennings nodded in the girl’s direction and busied himself with stirring sugar into the strong, black coffee while she left the office with skinny hips swaying.
He screwed up his eyes as he took a sip of the coffee and then returned his gaze to Amelia. ‘Well, what brings you to Prism? What can I do for you?’
She made a quick decision to act as unthreateningly as she could, and injected some helplessness into her words. ‘As you said, it’s difficult to be back, but I felt I had to come. To say goodbye, to see if it’s possible to find closure of a kind. I haven’t been able to do that from afar, for some reason. It’s a tad clichéd, I realise, but I guess it’s an attempt to move on.’
He smiled at her, seemingly convinced and placated. ‘And I can help you do that?’
She hesitated, fiddling with the sleeve of her jacket, ho
ping she was playing a convincing role. ‘Maybe. Maybe you could tell me about the night Robert disappeared. That is, if you remember?’
Jennings took another sip of his coffee. ‘I’m sorry to disappoint you, but I wasn’t at the Marriott for very long that night. It was a typical get-together for Canadian companies and individuals with business interests in Russia. The embassy has always been very good at organising those things. It provides an opportunity to meet and connect with like-minded businessmen and women, but, as you know only too well, we were in the midst of these stressful negotiations with Sibraz, and I had a mountain of work to get back to, so I stayed for an hour, maybe an hour and a half, and then I left.’
Amelia contemplated his words. ‘But you did see Robert? Speak to him?’
‘Yes, of course,’ Jennings replied, sipping his coffee slowly. ‘We spoke often during those days and weeks.’
‘Can you tell me anything more? What did you talk about?’
‘Well, that night he seemed tired. He’d been working very hard to help us resolve the situation with Sibraz, but otherwise he was fine. At least, nothing seemed out of the ordinary.’
‘He didn’t seem worried, or nervous, or . . . ?’
Jennings thought for a moment, considering her question, but his face revealed little. If this man knew something, he was a good actor.
‘No, nothing I could detect. As you probably know,’ he continued, ‘Sibraz dropped a giant bombshell when they wanted to cancel the project with us. It was such an important achievement for us to have entered into a joint venture with them in the first place and Robert realised the value of keeping the deal intact. I think that’s all we talked about in those days. Like I said, he was tired, but there didn’t seem to be anything else.’ Jennings paused. ‘If it’s any consolation, I can tell you that Robert was invaluable during those weeks. It was thanks to him that the whole thing didn’t go up in smoke early on.’
They sat in silence for a moment. ‘I’m sorry,’ he continued, ‘it must be frustrating for you to know so little.’
Amelia nodded, but didn’t reply. She watched as he drank the last of his coffee.