by Tom Cain
The man sighed. ‘Alive? Trust me, it’s a temporary reprieve… a few months: six, maybe nine if I’m lucky. Cancer. You’d have found it if you’d looked any closer, doc, believe me. But anyway, my name… yeah… my name is Michael A. Drinkwater. The “A” stands for Abraham, if you can believe that.’
Grantham got his phone out again and tapped a text to his office, ordering a search for any information on a Michael Abraham Drinkwater.
‘How old are you?’ he asked, looking up from his screen.
‘Thirty-seven. My birthday’s August the twenty-third. Should make that at least.’
‘Home town?’
‘Pensacola, Florida.’
‘Navy brat?’ asked Carver, thinking of the US Navy’s flight-training base there.
Drinkwater nodded. ‘Sure, my daddy flew Tomcats, though he was mostly flying a desk the years he was stationed there. You in the service?’
‘Royal Marines, a long time ago,’ said Carver. ‘So, tell me about Zorn. How did that work?’
‘You mean, apart from waking up every morning and seeing someone else’s face in the mirror?’
‘I mean now, this week. How much of it was you?’
‘That was Zorn — the real one — on that BBC interview. He gave a press conference at his place after ex-Prime Minister Orwell was killed. But that aside, if you ever saw Mr Zorn outside his house or his office, that was me. I was going to go to Wimbledon on Friday, too, and there was going to be some kind of fancy reception that evening, but I was told not to worry about that.’ Drinkwater gave a gentle smile. ‘I was going to be dead by then.’
‘How did Zorn recruit you?’ Carver asked.
‘He made me a deal. Well, his people did… I was at work. I’m a CPA — I guess you guys would just say “accountant”. It’s not exactly exciting. Anyway, these guys came to my office one day in January, near the end of the month. They said they wanted to make me a deal. They said I could make sure that my family would be well provided for. They knew my wife’s name, my kids’ names and ages, everything. I said, “Are you trying to sell me insurance?” and they laughed and one of them said, “I guess you could call it that.”’
‘So what was the deal?’
‘All I had to do was agree to impersonate the guy they were working for — they didn’t tell me his name, not at that time — and my family would receive two million dollars, cash. Invest it conservatively, and they’d be pretty much guaranteed a hundred grand a year for ever. They said they knew that would appeal to me, in my situation. I mean, it was obvious they knew everything about me — my personal finances, my medical records, you name it. So I said, “What’s the catch?” One of them said, “Well, you’ve gotta have a bit of surgery.” And the other one said, “Then you’ve gotta die. But what the hell, huh? At least this way it’ll be quick.”’
‘Remarkable,’ said Cameron Young, almost purring with satisfaction. ‘Truly remarkable.’
‘What do you mean, “remarkable”?’ asked Drinkwater indignantly. ‘What kind of word is that for those bastards?’
‘I apologize, Mr Drinkwater. I meant no offence,’ Young replied. ‘But I can’t help admiring the way Zorn’s mind works. And, if you’ll excuse the inappropriate sentiment, I also can’t help feeling he took a considerable pleasure in conceiving the choice with which you were presented. You knew that you were mortally ill, facing a very painful death, and yet you must have harboured, indeed may still harbour, the hope that somehow you might be spared. All you had to do — and I appreciate that “all” is a very loaded word here — was accept the inevitability of your fate, lose a few last months of life, and you would receive a swift end, courtesy of Mr Carver here, knowing that your family was secure. It’s elegant, don’t you think?’
‘No,’ said Drinkwater. ‘I damn well don’t. And I wouldn’t have taken the deal, either, except for the next thing they told me. Seems I was the third guy they’d approached. The other two had said no. And they were dead already, with not a single cent for their wives and kids.’
‘Well, at least you’re still alive.’
‘Yeah I am… and now we’ve got a problem.’
‘Really?’ asked Young.
‘Yeah, really,’ Drinkwater insisted. ‘See, the second half of that two million was payable on my death. And thanks to you jerks I’m still alive. So the way I see it, you owe me a million dollars.’
Young looked appalled. Carver burst out laughing. But Jack Grantham was looking at his phone screen with a face as grim as a gravestone. ‘That’s not our only problem,’ he said. ‘I just had a message from Wentworth. Zorn got away. Seems the little bastard saw us coming.’
80
Cheapside, Berkshire, and Parkview Hospital
‘ So now what? ’ Razzaq asked, as a Chinook carrying eight very disgruntled SAS men back to Hereford clattered overhead, its occupants totally unaware that the target they had so spectacularly missed was just a few hundred feet beneath them.
‘So now the game has turned around, just like I said it would,’ said Zorn, making it sound like a fascinating prospect. ‘And it’s kind of interesting, y’know?’
‘I’m not sure I do,’ confessed Razzaq.
‘Well, let’s just play around with a few scenarios. Suppose Drinkwater is dead. I don’t believe he is, but let’s stay with me on this. If he’s dead, then the Brits can tell the world that Malachi Zorn is dead. And who’s going to contradict them? The only person who could do that would be me. And I’m not exactly going to advertise my existence right now.’
‘Of course,’ Razzaq agreed. ‘But that’s exactly what you wanted. Everyone thinks you’re dead. You’ve got the money. That’s perfect!’
Zorn shook his head. ‘No, it would be perfect if everyone thought I was dead. But the Brits know I’m not. So they can come after me. And if they get to me they can kill me, and they don’t have to worry about it, because the rest of the world thinks I’m dead already. Got it?’
‘Yes,’ said Razzaq, ‘that is a problem.’
‘In theory, yes, but, see, I don’t think Drinkwater is dead. I don’t think a government, or anyone working for it, or even with its knowledge, goes right ahead and deliberately kills the wrong target.’
Razzaq looked unconvinced. ‘You’re still assuming they knew that you were using a double. We don’t know that for sure.’
‘Why else would they have raided the Wentworth house?’
‘They could have been looking for evidence.’
‘No!’ Zorn insisted. ‘If the Brits knew that I ordered the Rosconway attack, and if they also thought I was in the car, all they’d be looking for in the house would be evidence on paper or in computer files. So they’d send in the cops, or maybe some spooks from MI5. If they sent in special forces, it’s because they were looking for me and they were ready to use force.’
‘That makes sense,’ Razzaq conceded, ‘although it is still possible that they might have been allowing the possibility of resistance from other people: myself, for example.’
Zorn grinned. ‘No, Ahmad. You would never be that stupid. You would have called them first and offered to cut a deal.’
Razzaq burst out laughing. ‘I will not even pretend to deny that! You know me too well.’
‘So, let’s get back to Michael Abraham Drinkwater. Let’s assume he’s alive and the Brits have got him. What’s the first thing we know for sure?’
Razzaq smiled. ‘Once again, they can still kill you.’
Zorn was not the slightest bit offended by Razzaq’s amusement. ‘You got it! And why can they kill me?’
‘Because once they produce Drinkwater and say that he is you, the rest of the world believes you are still alive. So how can you possibly be dead?’
‘You got it in one. Outstanding! So, look at it from the Brits’ point of view. If they think it through the same way we did…’
‘They might not. Maybe they’re not that clever.’
‘Their politicians might not be
,’ Zorn agreed. ‘But don’t tell me there aren’t people in the intelligence community who can’t see the way this plays out.’
‘Certainly there are such people in the Security Service and the Secret Intelligence Service. And if Carver somehow managed to discover that you were using a double, then he may also have realized that he can now kill you — the real you — with impunity. Assuming that he wants to, of course. Mr Carver is surprisingly picky about his targets for a man who makes a living as an assassin.’
‘He might not have a choice,’ Zorn pointed out. ‘You recruited him through blackmail. What’s to stop them doing the same thing? But I’m not so worried about that. I was always going to disappear when all this was over, but…’
‘… but there’s another way you could play it,’ Carver said.
He, Grantham and Young had commandeered one of the hospital’s consulting rooms. Grantham had immediately placed himself behind the desk, in the doctor’s position. Carver and Young were sat in the chairs opposite, like patients. Grantham had just been setting out the strength of their position. ‘This Drinkwater idiot is our ace in the hole,’ he said. ‘Of course, the wife and kids may need a bit of handling. Perhaps I can persuade the Americans to stick them inside the witness protection programme, or something. Give them new names. Make them disappear where no one will ever find them. We can’t have the missus pointing at our new Mr Zorn and saying, “Hey, that’s my hubby!”’
‘Then there’s the whole issue of Drinkwater’s cancer,’ Carver pointed out. ‘If he really is going to be dead in months, that means he comes with a sell-by date. But there’s another way you could play it.’
‘What other way?’ Young asked, dreading the answer.
‘Well, the traditional intelligence way of operating is based on the idea that you absolutely don’t want other people to know what you’re doing.’
‘Yes, Carver,’ said Grantham, ‘that’s why we’re called the Secret Intelligence Service. The clue is in the name.’
‘Right, and that makes you strong in one way. But it also limits your resources. There’s only so many minds working on any one problem: the people directly under your command, and whatever allies you can find in other agencies who can be trusted to keep your secrets.’
‘You’re joking. I don’t trust anyone,’ said Grantham.
‘Exactly. Right now, you’re looking at Zorn as a problem you and a very few other people have to solve. But the other way to crack a problem is to be as open as possible. Give it to anyone who wants to play with it, take it to pieces, or fix it in any way they want.’
All Young’s worst fears had been realized. ‘I’m sorry, Carver, but are you seriously suggesting we throw open all the United Kingdom’s most valuable secrets and let any Tom, Dick and Harry play with them?’
‘No, but I am suggesting a way that you could get a lot of very powerful help to deal with Malachi Zorn.’
81
‘It’s really very simple,’ Carver said. ‘In case you haven’t noticed, Malachi Zorn is trying to pull the biggest heist in history. It’s robbery, fraud, mass-murder, you name it, all wrapped up in one package. He rips off some of the richest people in the world. He makes mugs of everyone who’s had anything to do with him. And at the end of it he ends up with some completely insane amount of money. But what’s he going to do? Everyone’s going to be after him. Unless they think he’s already dead… That’s why he wanted me to kill him — or appear to. It’s a disappearing trick.’
‘Tell me something I don’t know,’ Grantham said. ‘Like where he’d disappear to.’
Carver held up his hands in exaggerated bafflement. ‘How the hell should I know? He’s probably bought himself a Pacific island, or a stretch of Amazon jungle, or maybe he’s paid off an African dictator to give him protection. Does it matter?’
‘It does if we’ve got to find him.’
‘Which is why I’m saying you should get some help. You’ve got yourself a handy replica Malachi Zorn. He’s proved that he can fool people, including some of Zorn’s investors, into thinking that he’s the real thing. So let him announce that he’s magically survived the attack, and that the launch of Zorn Global is going ahead as planned. Then, when all the people Zorn has stolen from are together in one place, you tell them the truth. That this poor bastard is a bloke called Drinkwater and that the real Zorn is still somewhere out there, with God knows how many of their billions. Then just stand back and see what happens. My guess is they’ll find Zorn soon enough.’
‘Well, that’s one way of doing it,’ said Grantham. ‘But you’ve missed an obvious alternative — well, obvious to any normal person, anyway.’
‘What’s that?’
‘Call the police. As you said, that Deirdre Bull woman can tie your old friend Magda Sternberg to the Rosconway attack. And you, Carver, can tie Sternberg to Razzaq. His links to Zorn are easily established, connecting Zorn to Rosconway. Now we have Drinkwater as proof of Zorn’s attempt to evade prosecution — that’s a conspiracy to murder.’
‘Not if I refuse to give evidence,’ said Carver. ‘Come on, Grantham, you of all people don’t ever want me anywhere near a witness box.’
Cameron Young raised an eyebrow and made a mental note to discover what it was that Carver knew that Grantham would never want made public. Grantham himself, however, was undeterred.
‘Doesn’t matter,’ he said. ‘There’s still Drinkwater, and even the dimmest juror won’t miss the fact that he’s walking around wearing Zorn’s face. If the police can get Razzaq and/or Sternberg in custody, one of them’s bound to start talking in exchange for a lighter sentence. Meanwhile, get the best forensic accountants the taxpayers’ money can buy, and start them working through the money trail. Let’s try sorting something out the proper, legal way for once.’
Now Young entered the conversation, easing his way in with a contemplative ‘Hmm’ before starting to speak. ‘I completely sympathize with you, Grantham, and of course you’re right that this is evidently a conspiracy. But take it from a former barrister, conspiracy cases are a nightmare to prosecute. It may be quite clear to us how the whole thing was put together, but that’s a very long way from saying it can be proven beyond reasonable doubt in a court of law. All the evidence so far is either hearsay or circumstantial. There’s no smoking gun, no email from Zorn ordering the attack, let alone a bomb with his DNA or fingerprints on it. He will be able to hire the best lawyers his huge wealth can buy. Meanwhile one of our key witnesses may very well die of cancer before the case even comes to court. A second witness may herself not recover from her wounds, and even if she does, her admitted involvement in a terrible crime would clearly give her a motive to lie about Mr Zorn in exchange for favourable treatment. And a third key witness is a former Royal Marines officer who appears, if you will excuse me, Mr Carver, to have spent many years behaving in a way that does little credit to his former regiment. If I were acting for Mr Zorn in that case, I would be very confident indeed of securing a not guilty verdict.’
‘I see,’ said Grantham sullenly. ‘Well, then, we’d better take the Carver option… again.’
‘Ah, well, that may also be a problem,’ said Young. ‘This is, I’m sure you will both agree, a very embarrassing situation for a great many influential people. Mr Zorn has, to be blunt, conned his investors. But they don’t know that yet and I’m not sure we want to be the ones to tell them. After all, these are some of the world’s richest men and women. They wouldn’t enjoy looking foolish in public.’
‘So what?’ Carver asked. ‘There are millions of people out there who’d be only too happy to see a few rich bastards taken down a peg or two.’
‘Possibly,’ Young conceded. ‘But those rich bastards would not appreciate the government that let that happen, would they? And they aren’t Zorn’s only victims. Every one of his trades required a counterparty… or to put it another way, each of his bets required a bookie who took it. So when he made money, someone else lost it. And b
y someone else I mean either multinational financial institutions — banks, in other words — or London and New York-based hedge funds.’
‘Once again, I can hear the cheering crowds,’ said Carver.
‘As can I,’ said Young. ‘But I can also see the Chancellor of the Exchequer’s face when he is told that all these institutions have taken their revenge by quitting London, thereby depriving the Exchequer of tens of billions in tax revenues. And I must also think of the Governor of the Bank of England, who is already fighting hard to save the value of the pound without raising interest-rates to the point where they cripple the UK economy. One more straw could easily break the camel’s back. This country has been limping for years. Do you really want to bring it to its knees?’
Carver shrugged. ‘That’s not my problem.’
‘No, but it is mine. It seems to me that if we expose Zorn we will play right into his hands. The end result will be to destroy the market. And that is exactly what he wants.’
‘Really? I thought he said today that he was putting his money back into the market.’
‘And you believe him? I must say, Mr Carver, I would not expect you to be so naive. And I have two last considerations. The first is that my boss, the Prime Minister, publicly placed a great deal of faith in Malachi Zorn. If it transpires that he was backing the greatest fraudster of all time that will not, to put it at its absolute mildest, look good. In fact, it could bring the government down. So now we have a ruined economy and a broken Prime Minister. And the cherry on top is that a senior member of the royal family regards Mr Zorn as a personal friend.’
Grantham shook his head disgustedly. ‘Oh great!’
‘Quite so,’ Young agreed, making it plain that he shared Grantham’s frustration with the limitless ability of that family’s members to make life difficult for those who served them. ‘They have met at numerous functions. Mr Zorn has dined at this royal personage’s country home and given generously to certain charities which the personage supports. He has also made certain of his properties around the world available, discreetly, to the personage’s spouse and children… and various extra-marital partners.’