Assassin Flame

by Tomson Cobb

  ‘Tony. I’ll put you on speaker so I can walk around the room. It helps me to think.’

  ‘Okay, buddy. What have you got for me?’ Shapiro said.

  ‘Catesby fits our profile of Greenstreet.’ Jago gave Shapiro a summary of his recent exploits.

  ‘That’s a worry. If a guy at his level can get away with treason, what hope for us?’

  ‘I’m not sure it can be classified as treason per se, but it’s got to be corruption of the highest order I agree. Now, the difficulty is how do I prove he’s running a hit squad for Chetwynd from inside the government, amongst other serious felonies?’

  ‘I may be able to help there. My team’s been busy on Kruger’s lost year, as you described it. After you asked me to help, they checked out all his movements from the time he chartered the yacht in Florida, through to the time he ended up in Mexico.’

  ‘What did they find? Did he meet anyone we know?’

  ‘Sure did. I’ll get to that. First of all, the payment for the boat was made by transfer from a bank in Switzerland. That in turn came from a company based in the Bahamas. Coincidence that the location was his first port of call.’

  ‘Beneficial owner of the company?’

  ‘Took some work to find, I had to pull some strings. Finally ended up with a name. Have a guess.’

  ‘Chomsky.’

  ‘How the hell…’

  ‘Elementary, my dear Watson. It had to be him. The Chetwynd high command wouldn’t want to have their names associated with a slush fund directly, so they would have to use a minion like him. I remember you told me yourself that he’d started to visit the US, so I figured they would use him to develop the operation there after his success for them in Europe and Asia. Just a shame for him that they found out he’d ripped them off in the process. He could have gone far, that boy.’

  ‘I’m impressed, bro. Well, Kruger then recruited a couple of lowlifes in Miami as crew, did some island hops down to the Turks and Caicos, via San Juan, ended up in a marina in Road Town in the British Virgin Islands.’

  ‘No doubt to set up his account in person and take his new bank manager to lunch. I’ll bet he didn’t have to go through the same money laundering rigmarole that you do here if you want to open a fifty-pound savings account for your children. Wonder how much ID he had to produce?’ Jago said with a hint of genuine disgust. ‘So who did he meet down there? I’m sure it wasn’t Brad Pitt.’

  ‘Sure wasn’t.’ Shapiro chuckled at the vision conjured up by Jago. ‘It was Marcel Lopez. His boat was moored alongside Kruger’s for three nights.’

  ‘You mean the bag man for Troncore?’

  ‘The very same. The guy who persuaded the other directors of the bank he worked for at the time to buy Troncore, then got hired by Macblane to run Troncore’s investments division a few months after he sold it back to Macblane for $1 billion less than his bank had paid for it. They were seen having dinner together on two occasions in a restaurant near the marina.’

  ‘That’s what I call entrepreneurial,’ Jago said.

  ‘I call it serious fraud.’

  ‘Even a cheap lawyer would be able to say that was coincidence.’

  ‘An expensive one couldn’t claim that for what they discussed,’ Shapiro said.

  ‘You mean you’ve got wire taps?’

  ‘Sure. Don’t think it’s just you that has intuition. I had a hunch. Called some people I know in the SEC. Turned out they had a file on Lopez. The guys had set up in Charlotte Amalie next-door in the US Virgin Islands. They have a file of all the emails Lopez sent, plus most of the conversations he had.’

  ‘So what was the one with Kruger about?’ Jago asked.

  ‘How they planned to set him up for the big time. We got names, numbers, even bank details. The whole plan to help him buy and develop his property empire with dirty money from the Chetwynd empire.’

  ‘Perfect for us. I don’t get it though. Why didn’t the SEC tell the FBI or NSA?’

  ‘Kruger used another name to hire the boat. Called himself Hoffman. By the time he got to the BVI, he’d grown his hair long with a beard as well. He always wore a big hat with shades while he was there so he looked different too. The SEC guys didn’t make who he was. They were so busy with the other people that Lopez had met, some of them very well known, that they decided to focus on them rather than “the man in the hat”, as they called him.’

  ‘Didn’t they track the boat? That’s what we would have done.’

  ‘They did, it disappeared somewhere off the coast of St Kitts. No sign of the two crew been found since.’

  ‘I’ll guess the next sighting of Wade was in Caracas?’

  ‘You guessed right. Week after the boat left Road Town, he checks into the best hotel in Venezuela under his own name.’

  ‘Can we prove all this was him, not someone with the same phony name?’

  ‘I got a copy of the charter agreement. It was in a plastic folder. Both have his prints all over them. The SEC guys also have some from the restaurant they used on the quay there, which match. They have hundreds of others as well. Politicians, businessmen, military as well from all over the world. Looks like Lopez was in negotiations with dozens of new employees for Troncore down there.’

  ‘Tony, you are a genius. Why don’t you come work for us?’

  ‘Can’t stand the weather in London. I’m a hometown boy, Jago.’

  ‘I doubt that, Tony. So we’ve got a link from Kruger to Chomsky to Troncore to Strang. Whether that would stack up enough in a court of law I don’t know though.’

  ‘It may not come to that. We also found some information on the statuesque Petra Carmichael. Turns out that she wasn’t a hundred per cent honest with you about her own visit to Caracas. She wasn’t there for a Chavez party, she was there for an Al Sinai Front get-together that was hosted by his party. It’s the public name for an Egyptian terrorist group that’s linked to Al Qaeda, amongst others.’

  ‘Wow. You sure she wasn’t still on the day job undercover for the Trib or NBC? With my devil’s advocate gown on, of course. She doesn’t work for one of your departments does she?’

  ‘No way. I’ve been through some of the CIA files on the operation they were involved in that led them to Caracas. A guy that fitted her description arrived in Cuba on a yacht from Miami. She, or he as she was then, disappeared. Then he turned up in Venezuela under an assumed name to attend the conference. Same MO as Kruger. We think Carmichael came to Caracas by boat from Havana via Jamaica.’

  ‘You sure it was Carmichael, Tony?’

  ‘Ninety per cent. My team are working on the other ten now. They’re checking every CCTV camera in every airport and seaport that side of the Rockies. Plus those in Caracas we can access by satellite. It’ll take some time but we’ll find her on one, I’m sure of it. Oh, I nearly forgot. You asked me to check on Wade’s accountant in Wisconsin. Turns out he’s also an ex-Troncore man. Moved there from Argentina after Wade’s boat trip, just before he went home from his beach holiday in Mexico.’

  ‘You got any more on that part of his itinerary yet?’

  ‘No. Not yet. Kruger may have used another name again, which will take more time to find. I’m in touch with an old friend down there in CISEN. He’ll let me know if or when he finds where Wade’s been down there.’

  ‘Beautiful. It sounds very dangerous in multiple ways. Now we have to find where RWC comes into all this. I have an idea now you’ve told me all that, Tony. You and I have to meet Wade together soon. On his own. Not in public.’

  ‘I think I follow. Where and when?’

  ‘He invited me to visit him again on his yacht in the Med next week. He’ll be there for a Davos spinoff called the Annual Forum of Developing Country Investment Negotiators. His yacht’s due to arrive in Corfu on Tuesday. I have to call Barney Michaels if I want to take him up on the offer, which I now intend to do. Can you make your own way there, so we can meet up on the Monday to plan the next steps?’

  ‘Try
and stop me, buddy. I’ll call your cell when I get there.’ Shapiro ended the call. Short and sharp as usual.

  Jago felt a presence in the study. The big German Shepherd had remained sat in the doorway, her eyes fixed on the animated human in front of her.

  ‘How long have you been there, Chob? You must think I’m deranged. I’ve been walking around this room for half an hour and I can’t remember any of it, apart from the conversation with Tony. Let me make a call to Nik then we can go for that walk. We both need one I’m sure.’

  Chapter 36

  ‘Okay, you can stop now. Your cardio performance is much better than when I first tested it, Mr Herman. We’ll have you run another marathon soon if you keep up this improvement. Now let’s do some warm downs.’

  ‘It doesn’t always feel like it. I didn’t realise how unfit I’d become. That guy I paid all that money to get me into shape didn’t do any of the work you’ve make me endure.’

  ‘It’s for a good cause, Mr Herman. The job you do means a lot of stress, so if you’re not fit enough it leaves open the possibility of coronary problems, then you’re out of the game, so to speak.’

  Jago watched the banker stagger off the machine to grab the water bottle he offered with the desperation of an explorer lost in the desert. They were in the large basement gym of his ostentatious townhouse in Chelsea.

  ‘Christ, Jerry, you’re a real sadist. I do feel a hell of a lot fitter though, I’ll give you that. Don’t know about a marathon yet. I’ll think about it soon. I promise. Listen, I have to go visit a client in Corfu next week. How would you like to come as well? I don’t want to lose the improvement you’ve given me. If you’re there I won’t be tempted to relax either. It’ll only be for a few days. What do you say?’

  ‘Sounds great, Mr Herman. I’ll have to postpone a few appointments with my other clients, which I should be able to do. A trip to the sun would be very nice, I have to admit.’

  ‘Great. We’ll travel there on my plane. My PA will send a car for you Sunday lunchtime. Is that okay with you?’

  ‘Perfect, Mr Herman. In fact, it couldn’t be better.’

  Chapter 38

  ‘Well done, my dear. You’ve done enough weights. Now a plank,’ the girl said.

  Belette dropped the barbell to look at herself. The image in the gym’s full-length mirror pleased her. The taut, naked body was flecked with moisture from the tough workout the girl had put her through. She was now ready for the next discipline. She moved past her trainer, who wore only a blue thong, touching her softly on the breast as she did so.

  ‘That is not allowed. I must punish you now,’ the girl said. Lie down. Adopt the position.’

  The instruction was barked at Belette as if from a drill sergeant. She dropped onto the exercise mat, supported her weight on her elbows, and raised her body from the floor while her toes took the weight of her legs.

  ‘Five minutes,’ said the girl as she picked up the cane. She positioned herself to the side of her client then laid the straight piece of bamboo across Belette’s butt. She left it there for a moment, then lifted it and with hardly any force brought it back down again onto her charge’s bare skin.

  ‘One minute.’ The disembodied voice from the cell phone that she had placed on the floor sounded hollow. What followed were twenty blows that increased in intensity, until she saw Belette shudder with a mixture of pain and pleasure as the final stokes resulted in the groans she had waited for. She continued the punishment.

  ‘Three minutes,’ the app pronounced.

  ‘Only two left, my darling. Then you get my reward,’ the trainer said as she threw away the cane and moved to kneel beside Belette. As she reached across to the vibrator on the towel with one hand, her other started to map a contour across the tensed muscles in the back of the girl beneath her.

  The app sounded a chime.

  ‘Finished,’ the trainer whispered. She moved away from her charge. ‘Turn over.’

  Belette gasped with the pain from both her exertions, as well as the corporal punishment she’d taken. She rolled over to face the trainer. The vibrator held tantalisingly in front of her was Belette’s favourite of the six that the girl brought with her on each visit. She closed her eyes with intense rapture as it entered her.

  An hour later, they had just left the shower room together when the call that she’d expected announced itself with a musical ringtone. Belette kissed the girl as she moved close to her. She allowed the trainer to towel her dry while she listened to the distorted voice on the phone. The call was short.

  The time had now come. She sighed.

  She moved across to the girl, kissed her on the lips, then turned her so she could wrap her arms around the slim body. She pulled her close and then, with a technique built from experience, put one arm around the trainer’s throat, slipped her other under the girl’s arm and used it as a fulcrum as she increased the pressure. The movement lifted the fitness trainer off the ground in the process, so she was balanced against Belette’s stomach. Her legs thrashed wildly as she realised too late that she was no longer involved in a sex game.

  After the girl stopped moving, Belette laid the limp body on the tiles of the gym floor then picked up the towel again.

  Two hours later, she stood in the main room to gaze one final time at the lake. For the first time in her sybaritic yet itinerant lifestyle, she felt sorrow to leave this place. It had been the most enjoyable of the many places she had lived in, but her security came first. This house, like all her others, was ready to be abandoned at the shortest of notice. She had cleaned it meticulously over the previous few days so the double protection just needed attention in the few areas that the girl had used today to complete the job, in case any item survived the fire.

  Most of the items that could be linked to her were now on their way by private courier to the post box in France. She’d sent them from the office in Zurich, using another passport as proof of identity. The rest were in the dark blue SUV she’d bought for cash the day before. She was ready.

  She walked down the stairs into the large garage and set the timer on the control box for midnight. The nearest fire station was an hour away, so a nocturnal blaze would guarantee maximum destruction before they even arrived.

  The evening moonlight that glinted on the flat calm surface of the lake tried to change her mind as she contemplated a final farewell to the isolated Swiss village. This contract was proving more complex than any of the other, simpler briefs she’d been given in recent years. The need to obtain information before the final despatch was quite usual of course, yet the level of detail that her present employer required was unprecedented. It had also proved more difficult than she had envisaged when she first accepted it. The personal cost of the house meant that she would have to add a supplementary charge to her final demand. At the same time, she loved every new challenge. After all, she told herself as she guided the car through the quiet roads, if it was too predictable there would be no satisfaction to remember by the time she closed the final page.

  She set the GPS waypoints for Milan, Bologna, then down the east coast to Brindisi on the heel of Italy and prepared herself for a long drive.

  The thought of another appointment with Jago Hale gave her a frisson of excitement that she’d never experienced before. It was almost as if they’d been destined to meet at some point in their separate yet parallel lives. The journey would give her time to think further on both her newly acquired desire, and mull the next part of her adaptable plan.

  Chapter 38

  What would be the cost of running a jet like this? Herman had told him he never allowed it out on charter, so that meant he took on all the outgoings with no income to balance them. Purchase cost: 20 mill. Tick. Maintenance: 2 mill a year. Tick. Captain on 24/7 call: 100k. Tick. Co-pilot: 80k. Tick. Two crew: 100k. Tick. Hanger, insurance, training, nav system, weather service: maybe another 500k. Tick. And that was before any fuel costs. Jago’s head ran through the cost centres he remembere
d from a fraud case he’d worked on a few years before, so he knew those numbers were possibly on the low side by now. Nice work if you can get it. This was the way to travel. Of course, he couldn’t imagine the level of dirty money that crooked bankers like Herman must need to accrue to pay for fripperies like the Gulfstream he was now luxuriating in.

  As he’d hoped, the passport check at the private terminal had been so cursory that none of the ground crew had even asked to check his documents as he’d tailed Herman through the gate, his single overnight carry bag dwarfed by the pyramid of brand-name suitcases that lay beside the plane waiting to be loaded into the hold.

  ‘How do you like the flight, Jerry? Enjoying the ride?’ Herman interrupted his tête-à-tête with the attractive PA sat opposite him to speak to Jago, who was close alongside him on the other side of the aisle of the narrow plane.

  ‘Very much, Mr Herman. You can’t imagine how much I appreciate this ride.’

  ‘No problem, Jerry. When I find someone that can do a great job, I stick with them. You’ll have to join me on some of my other trips. If you get me back to full fitness, that is.’

  ‘That’ll be easy with your motivation, Mr Herman. I want to see you run that next marathon.’ And also to hear more of your conversations, Jago thought. ‘With that in mind, I’ve put together an exercise schedule for us to work on for the next week. It’s in front of me right now.’

  He sipped the green tea that the stewardess had given him and continued to jot down notes in Teeline from Herman’s conversation on the notepad he’d brought with him. The practice was even improving his rusty shorthand, so sometimes you just had to accept good fortune, then milk it for all you could.

  ‘Jago, you have the luck of the devil. How the hell did you get an invite onto his plane?’

  Shapiro shook his head in disbelief once again as he and Jago swallowed another Greek beer in the American’s hotel room on the edge of the old part of Corfu Town.