‘Right, without the torture,’ said Angus smiling, ‘what if we take Rollo’s files, pretend we tortured you to get them, and that way he’ll come after us and not you. In addition to that, removing a blackmail held over the Government would hugely benefit you when the authorities come to look at the part you played in all of this. So as soon as the holiday weekend’s over, I’ll deal with the Russians and with Rollo, Okay?’
It was the first time Angus had seen Bookie smile.
* * * * *
Angus took Bookie up to the Lab’ and introduced him to Perry. After just minutes of discussions, they had agreed how to remove Rollo’s files from the Laptop down at Norbally House, and Rollo left the two of them to get on with it. Walking back down to the study, it took him this amount of time to think through all that he had learnt. He was still baffled why Wheeler was dealing on behalf of Nat Matthews – how the hell was Matthews involved?’ It was a pity too that Bookie did not know how the Russians had got involved. But now that the kidnap had failed and the theft had been foiled, he felt it unlikely that the strange partnership between Matthews and the Russians would continue or that they would “have another go” – at least not immediately.
As he got down to the study, he decided to ring the Major who, according to Bookie, would still be unaware of the fates of the two teams and would be waiting somewhere for the two boats to come back to the mainland. Bookie had the Major’s mobile number, which he would have used from the Calistra as soon as she had come within range of the mainland mobile telephone masts. He rang the Major.
‘Good afternoon, Major Hunter, Angus Macrae here, I’m ringing to update you on the boats you have been expecting to come back through the Corryvreckan to the mainland.’
Though there was no immediate reply, he did not have to ask if the Major was there as there was an audible gasp of breath from the other end.
‘You’re bluffing, Mr Macrae, if indeed that’s really you’ said the Major at last.
‘It’s definitely me,’ replied Angus, ‘and I have to tell you that Zaytsev and Tulloch are in custody for the attempted theft of software from the Athena team. The boat, the Calistra, foundered in heavy seas in the Corryvreckan this morning. I’m also sorry to have to tell you that Mr Flaxman has been lost with the boat, drowned, and only Bookie survived that expedition.’
The Major suddenly felt sick, and found that his hands had gone clammy and he coughed involuntarily, his voice hoarse. Still, he tried to persist with his original line.
‘I have no proof that you’re who you say you are,’ he croaked, then clearing his throat, added, ‘and why should I believe such a ridiculous …’
‘That’s easy,’ said Angus cutting across him, ‘you can check the apprehension of the two software thieves with the Oban Constabulary and the loss of Calistra and Mr Flaxman with the RNLI Lifeboat service, which is also in Oban.’
There was another long silence and Angus could hear the Major’s heavy breathing, ‘And what would you have me do?’ he said at last, ‘I’m just a co-ordinator here.’
‘Major Hunter,’ replied Angus, ‘our sources inform us that you are a key player in organising all of this, and that not only have you known and done business with Mr Rollo for years, you also introduced Mr Wheeler to him. As for the Russians …’
‘All right, all right,’ cut in the Major, ‘so what do you want from me?’
‘I need you to listen carefully and do exactly what I now suggest,’ replied Angus, ‘I need you to ring your fellow conspirators Mr Wheeler and Mr Rollo. You are to tell them that their plans are finished. They are to pass that message on to the Russians and to anyone else involved in this affair, is that clear?’
Again there was a silence, but this time shorter.
‘Very well,’ replied the Major, ‘but, as I said, I’m just the co-ordinator, I can’t tell what their responses will be.’
‘I don’t care if you’re just the lackey,’ said Angus, ‘or if you’re the instigator, just get that message across or there will be dire consequences for all involved in this outrageous conspiracy, do understand that?’
‘Conspiracy? I don’t know what you mean by conspiracy,’ said the Major.
‘For goodness sake, man,’ replied Angus, ‘you know perfectly well what I mean. A bloody conspiracy’s when a bunch of schemers like you plan something underhand usually to the detriment of others. I don’t know yet how many of you are involved in all of this, but I’m going to find out. And, as for underhand, I’d have thought that the events of the past few days would have…’
‘Yes, yes, Mr Macrae, you’ve made your point’ replied the Major, suddenly realising that to some extent his own future was in the hands of this man, ‘and I’ll make sure that the … the others understand it as well. I’ll ring them both this very minute.’
‘That’s better,’ said Angus, ‘and I and the authorities will be speaking to you later.’
He slammed the receiver down on the phone so that the Major would hear it. He now felt hopeful that the messages would indeed be passed on and tried for a moment to imagine the reactions of those who were about to get these devastating bits of news.
Disliking confrontations of this kind, Angus sat quietly for a moment. Surely there had to be another way to get out of this mess. It was at that moment that the idea came to him. As often in times of need, inspiration can come to the rescue. He remembered that a few months back the Towneley Vassilov Bank had been offered a large packet of shares in the Matthews Finch Hedge Fund. He had brushed aside the offer in seconds – not interested in anything involved in the potentially dangerous business of algorithm trading. With all of this going on he had given it not another thought but now it occurred to him that buying these shares might lead to a solution after the weekend.
With the urgency the situation required, he rang his old friend and Stock Broker, Harry Levine.
‘Harry, so sorry to disturb your weekend, guess that you’ve got a house full of merry revellers for Easter?’ he said as soon as he got through.
‘Angus, nice to hear from you,’ said Levine, ‘yes I do have a few people here. But what on earth gets you to ring me on Easter Sunday?’
Angus did not give his reasons – of course – but asked if the shares were still available and, if they were, could he buy them right now. He was assured that they were as Levine had heard of Matthews Finch’s difficulties from the Bank of England conference on Friday and checked on the shares – knowing that they would plummet in value. There was a slight problem in that both the Towneley Vassilov Investment Bank and the Towneley Bank would probably need board approval for such a big purchase. This was soon got round when Sir Jeremy agreed to buy the shares on Angus’s behalf on his own personal account with Levine, Berkstein & Smithson. They knew, of course, that, according to Stock Exchange rules, the shares would need to be purchased in a number of separate transactions; the message could be given now, however, very soon Sir Jeremy would be a very substantial shareholder in the Matthews Finch Hedge Fund.
Angus was naturally most grateful to Sir Jeremy for coming to the rescue as, he would be able to speak from a good negotiating position when he eventually got to speak to Paul Finch. A couple more calls indicated that he would be back from Florida on Monday afternoon or evening – but at least before the Stock Exchange and markets opened on Tuesday morning.
With these plans now well in hand, he began to feel happier with the Matthews Finch side to this nightmare and that he could therefore concentrate his efforts on Komarov. And, although he now had a good idea of how to deal with this meddling Russian and his conspiracy, his plan still contained a couple of elements over which he had no control – time to get control of them.
Chapter 26
Sunday early afternoon,
The Crinan Hotel
The Major took the slamming down of the telephone as a death-knell to the project. He felt the heart go out of him and was filled at the same time, the horror of the telephone calls he now h
ad to make. But then his sense of self-preservation took over. He went to reception, told them “something had come up” and that, having to leave right away, he needed his bill. This he paid in cash and ran upstairs and packed his belongings. Getting back downstairs in just minutes, he walked sedately through reception, out of the front door and round to the carpark. As soon as he was out of sight of the front entrance, he scurried over to the car, threw his things into it any old how, and fled the Crinan Hotel as fast as he could.
As he drove off at speed, he connected his mobile telephone and charger to the cigarette lighter port – he would risk being tracked on his mobile phone but would buy a new one as soon as he could. He had no immediate plan such as where to go but reckoned he could get lost in Glasgow. The car could just be dumped in some Hotel car park, the keys given in to reception, the car hire company notified that something unexpected had forced him to leave the country and that would be that.
On the drive south he stopped at the Stag Hotel in Lochgilphead, from where he would ring the others from here. Taking the precaution of parking out of sight of the hotel, he went to the bar as soon as he entered it; he ordered a double whisky and retired to a quiet corner from where he could keep an eye on anyone coming to look for him. Before ringing the others, he looked up the numbers of the Police in Oban and the RNLI. Always good at cooking up a plausible story, he posed as a relative of Flaxman’s who had just heard the rumour of his drowning, and managed to get the confirmations he feared. The Police told him that a search helicopter was out looking for a person feared drowned in a capsizing in the Corryvreckan and that they were treating as connected, the two men who were being “held for questioning regarding the attempted theft of intellectual property” on the island of Craithe. The RNLI confirmed the loss of the Calistra and one passenger but mentioned nothing about a kidnapping.
He then took a large swig of his whisky – acknowledging to himself as he did so, that it would give him only the illusion of courage – but perhaps that was enough for him as it steeled him for the first of his calls. He decided to make the easiest of these the first, the call to Mick Rollo. He knew that although Rollo had just lost one of his key men, Flaxman, he also knew there was not an iota of compassion in the man and that there would therefore be no tears. Moreover, as it was himself who had commissioned the Irish team, it was likely to stay the more business-like of the two calls.
When he got through he quickly passed on all that Angus had told him.
‘This is for real?’ asked Rollo, ‘This isn’t some kind of dreadful joke in bad taste?’
‘It’s for real,’ said the Major, ‘I was as shocked as you and before ringing you I checked it out with the authorities in Oban – it’s all true.’
‘So they’ve also got Bookie in custody?’ he said, and then abruptly he added, ‘hang on a minute’, and the line went silent. The Major sat for what seemed an age but eventually Rollo came back on the line.
‘Do you know what?’ he said his breath coming in short gasps, ‘the bastards must have got to him, because all my vital files have gone.’
‘What files, what’s gone?’ asked the Major,
‘All my files going back decades,’ replied Rollo, ‘my effing insurance with the UK Government, all my dealings with them and the coverts, now I’ve got no bloody leverage on them with the files gone. I know Bookie keeps hidden back-ups of all of it but I’m not computer-literate enough to know where those are or how to access them. God what a disaster.’
‘I still don’t see what that’s got to do with our project’, said the Major.
Rollo then explained it all to the Major and how Bookie was the ‘gate-keeper’ to all his treasured files.
‘So if the Russian wants to have another go at those bastards on Craithe,’ concluded Rollo, ‘they can count me in – I’ve gotta get my files back and they’re sure to still want Athena? So, when you speak to Komarov or Max Wheeler, you can tell them that the loss of Flaxman is like a spur to me and that I’ve got more top rate men ready and waiting to avenge his death.’ The Major rang off after discussing a few more matters and felt strangely heartened by his call to Rollo – this made him less nervous about his call to Wheeler.
When he came to make the call, he was actually returning earlier calls from Wheeler. In these earlier calls he had implied that the delay in the boats getting back to the mainland last night had been simply the result of bad weather and had merely postponed the plan not scuppered it. When he got through, Wheeler was relieved to hear from him as, understandably, both Matthews and Komarov had been pestering him for news. His relief was short-lived.
‘Let me see if I heard you right,’ said Wheeler after a long silence and the Major could feel the icy tone even over the airwaves. ‘What you’ve just told me is that Greg Flaxman has been drowned, the others are in custody and both ‘effing missions have turned into complete fiascos. Have I got that about right?’
‘I’m afraid that’s true,’ replied the Major, ‘though Mick Rollo lost a man and still has enough of a grudge to want to have another go at Craithe.’
‘Well, I don’t know about that,’ said Wheeler, ‘this is a big enough cock-up for me to have to ring Nat Matthews. Difficult to say how he’ll react to all of this. Let me find out what he wants to do now and I’ll ring you back.’ He rang off and the Major stuffed his mobile into his pocket, finished his drink and left the hotel to continue his journey down to Glasgow.
As soon as Wheeler put the ‘phone down, he cupped his head in his hands for a minute. Not in his worst nightmares could he have dreamed of all their plans going so disastrously wrong or in the manner in which they had. Now, crashing in on his thoughts, was his promise to Nat Matthews that he would not let him down. Unless Rollo could quickly come up with a plan ‘B’, letting Nat down now seemed inevitable. However, daunting it might be, he would also need to contact Komarov. Of the two, he expected to have the greatest trouble with Nat Matthews, after all, he still had the problem of opening for trading on Tuesday morning; he decided, to ring Komarov first – he might have some ideas of what to do now and so make the Matthews call easier.
Komarov had previously made a number of calls to Wheeler during the day – trying to get news; he had failed to get anything specific from any of them. In exasperation, he had left a message giving Wheeler his mobile number and telling him to ring, whatever the time of day or night – irrespective of whether or not he had any news to impart. He took a couple of deep breaths and rang the Komarov’s number. Once connected, he ran right through the whole sorry tale as quickly as he could to prevent any interruptions from him.
‘So there it is,’ he said as he finished, ‘sorry about your man Zaytsev, but these things sometimes happen.’
‘Not to me they don’t,’ said Komarov, ‘anyway Zaytsev was not my man he was my partner Silayev’s. I should have known it would be better to send the ‘A’ team first time round. My partner told me Zaytsev was up to the job and he had the advantage of his being in London for a job at short notice. Now, this time, we’ll do it properly. I’ll come to London myself right now and get things properly organised. I’ll be bringing someone with me and you’d better tell your man Rollo I shall also need half a dozen or so of his best men for tomorrow morning- did you get all of that?’
Wheeler was so taken aback by this, that for just a moment he hesitated before replying. ‘So you don’t think that the mishaps of today are the end of the matter,’ he said, ‘even when everyone on Craithe has been forewarned and will be prepared for anything we might consider doing now,’
‘I don’t care Cossack’s cuss what Craithe are or are not prepared for,’ said Komarov, ‘and it’s absolutely not the end of the matter as far as I’m concerned so unless you hear from me to the contrary, I need you meet me in the bar of the Connaught Hotel at nine this evening, yes?’
‘Yes, of course,’ said Wheeler, ‘I’ll be there at nine,’ and Komarov ended the call with the sharp click of a clam-mobile phone bei
ng slammed shut.
Whether or not Wheeler had agreed with Komarov, it was clear that the Russian was go to proceed irrespective of anyone else’s views. He wondered what Komarov’s ‘A’ team might consist of – perhaps he would discover that evening.
So, at last, he came to the call he dreaded making most of his call to Nat Matthews. Their relationship had become more than just a business arrangement, with Wheeler getting the other out of difficult or embarrassing situations over the years, this venture, like some others had become personal. What made it worse was that was that it was today, Sunday, by which the whole thing was supposed to have been fixed. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest as he rang Matthews’s number.
‘I told you I didn’t need to hear from you till everything was fixed,’ said Matthews as soon as they were connected, ‘nothing gone wrong I hope.’
There was no way of putting a good spin on it – as politicians are wont to call it. At the end of the sorry tale, however, Wheeler was surprised to hear that Matthews appeared to be resigned to the disaster.
‘Well, if you’d asked me about your idea before you set out on it,’ said Matthews, ‘I’m not sure what I’d have said. I suppose kidnapping someone and then using the hostage to get what you want seems reasonable enough, but I’d have wondered about doing it up in the middle of nowhere. Still what’s done is done – so what now? I still need to be trading normally Tuesday morning. Is it too much to hope that you have what these days they call a plan B?’
‘There’s the Russian I mentioned,’ said Wheeler, ‘he’s got his own agenda and is going to pursue this matter to the bitter end, come what may. As a side-result of his plans, Craithe could be out of action tomorrow anyway, so although our first efforts failed, rest assured, we’ll get you back in business for Tuesday morning.’
‘Well, that’s what you said first time round,’ said Matthews, ‘let’s just hope that your faith in a collaboration with this Russian is going to work. Just let me know the moment you get some more heartening news will you?’
Betrayed: (A Financial and Conspiracies Thriller – Book 1 in the Legacy Thriller Series) Page 21