by Andre Baby
“This is going from the ridiculous to the sublime.”
“Is it? So humor me a bit longer. You need that info, and time is pressing. You talk to your accomplices and they decide having Mills share in the ransom isn’t a big deal. There’s plenty of money to go around. They tell you to get him on board. But you see where you could make a nice pile of money instead of just being a good soldier for the Baluchistan cause. You tell Mills you and he could partake in the ransom directly. So Mills authorizes Toombs, P and W’s solicitor, to form a nice, discreet, hermetic Swiss corporation, in which Mills and you and possibly others will have shares. You contact Tariq and the Tigers and they agree that in exchange for the info they desperately need, Swissco, alias Mirolet, will get part of the ransom money, funneled through Leon Binagro. Still with me, Tajar?”
“You have a vivid imagination.”
“But for the plan to succeed, especially with P & W being strapped for cash, you and Mills need a guarantor, or at least a strong chance that someone else would pay the ransom. Mills knew that Bolding fraternized with Hays. We happen to know that Mills, as CFO, signed Bolding’s expense accounts, which included many dinners with Hays. But here’s where it gets tricky. We know Toombs had numerous telephone calls with someone at Home Office but—”
Suddenly, the door opened, and a tall, dark-haired man with greying temples wearing a three piece suit entered, briefcase in hand. He tossed it ceremoniously onto the small table.
“Giles Blount. I’m Mr. Singh’s barrister. On what grounds are you holding my client?”
Dulac turned. “Oh, I don’t know. Try conspiracy to acts of terrorism, conspiracy to hijack a ship, accessory to murder of twenty-seven passengers aboard the Caravan Star. Evasion of justice. Accessory to Bolding’s murder. I’ll think of a few more while I draft Interpol’s red flag warrant for your client’s arrest.”
Blount stared at Dulac. “Unless you charge my client now, we’re leaving.”
Dulac looked at his watch. “Under the Antiterrorist Act we can still hold him for another half-hour. Just a moment.” Dulac got up and opened the door. Wade stood at the doorway and Dulac took him aside. “How fast can you get some wire taps on P & W’s and Mills’s phones?” whispered Dulac.
“It would take a couple of hours to prepare the papers and go before a magistrate. And there’s no guarantee it’d be allowed.” Wade looked doubtful.
Dulac scratched his scalp. “Singh is starting to get nervous. I’ve got him thinking that he just might be next on their hit list now that he’s been caught. We’ve got to offer him a deal.”
“That’s way out of my jurisdiction,” said Wade. “Besides we only have your theory to go on. We have no hard evidence.”
“Once Singh leaves, he’s bound to warn the others and we can’t stop him. I’m going to make him an offer he can’t refuse.”
“You can’t—”
“Just watch me.”
Dulac re-entered the room and closed the door behind him. He eyed first Blount, then Singh.
“Here’s the deal. I’ve spoken to Wade and what I’m about to offer you is the best deal you’ll ever get. Right now, you’re facing two conspiracy counts of two murders, conspiracy to hijacking a ship, aiding in the concealment of weapons to be used in a crime, multiple violations of the British Antiterrorist Act and willful disregard of human life. Since your ‘friends’ seem to be rather trigger-happy, there’s a strong chance they’re going to get rid of you as well. Especially now that you’re a potential witness against them.”
“Mr. Singh has not said or done anything incriminating,” said Blount.
“Possibly. But do his friends know that for sure? Are you willing to put Mr. Singh’s life at risk?”
“Mr. Dulac, you’re an Interpol agent. You have no authority to offer any deal here,” said Blount.
“You’re right. That’s why my offer is conditional to what Mr. Wade accepts.”
“Then why doesn’t Wade make the offer?”
“So you’re saying you’ll consider the offer.”
“I didn’t say that.”
Dulac looked at Singh’s face. His expression shouted of quiet desperation.
“I think your client thinks otherwise,” said Dulac.
Blount turned to Singh, then back Dulac. “I want to confer with my client outside.”
“By all means.”
* * *
Blount paused on the steps of the main entrance under the suspicious gaze of two policemen. He took out a cigarette, lit it and looked at Sing. “How much of Dulac’s info is correct?”
“I don’t know how he got it. It’s scary.”
“Doesn’t matter.” Blount took in another deep drag from his cigarette. “He still has no hard evidence. They’ve got a long way to go before they can even think of getting a conviction in court. In the meantime, whatever you do, don’t contact anybody except me. I’m sure they’re going to wiretap your phone if they haven’t already. Don’t speak to anyone without going through me first, is that clear?”
“How bad is it?”
“They’re going to offer you reduced charges in exchange for your testimony against the others. Are you prepared to do that?”
“So if I shut up and I’m convicted, I spend the best part of my life in jail. If I talk, I get a bullet.”
“We’ll make witness protection part of the deal.”
Silence.
“I’ll have to think about it,” Singh said finally, resignation on his face.
“It’s a hard choice, but it’s my duty to tell you that your friends may not be so sure you haven’t talked already. Is there anything else I should know?”
Singh hesitated. “No, not really.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. So what should I do?”
“Let’s hear what they have to offer. It won’t hurt to listen.”
While Blount and Singh conferred, Dulac convinced Wade to drop the conspiracy to murder Bolding charge and offer a reduced, criminal negligence charge related to the dead passengers in exchange for Singh’s eventual testimony against Mills and the naming of his accomplices. Dulac and Wade sat and waited in the interrogation room for Singh and Blount to return. Dulac’s cell phone rang.
“Dulac.”
“It’s me, Gina. I’m with Director Arlberg. Can you talk?”
“You sound nervous.”
“We were able to break through MI-6’s firewalls and trace the owner of the unregistered phone.”
“Fantastic.”
“Are you sitting down?”
“I am. Why?”
“It’s Sir Terence Hays.”
“Jesus Christ!”
“Arlberg wants to speak you.”
Dulac got up, gesturing to Wade that he needed to take the call in private. He opened the door and exited the room.
“Where are you?” said Arlberg.
“Scotland Yard. They have Singh, but he’s not singing yet.”
“No points. Dulac, promise me you won’t do anything rash until we see the implication of this.”
“You mean I can’t go to the press?”
“Very funny. Until we see where this goes, keep this strictly to yourself.”
“I wasn’t thinking of sharing it with Wade, if that’s what you mean.”
* * *
Singh and Blount returned, walked past Dulac, and Wade directed them into the interrogation room again. “I’ve got to go. Call you later,” said Dulac. He ended the call and entered the room.
“What’s your offer?” Blount looked at Wade.
Dulac made a timeout gesture. “Wade, can I see you for a moment?”
The two left the room and closed the door.
“Something’s come up,” said Dulac.
“Yes?”
“I can’t tell you what.”
“I thought we agreed to share all info.” Wade looked royally annoyed.
“Believe me, if what I just heard is true, ignorance is bliss.”
“What about Singh?”
“Let him go. Keep him on a tight leash. Tap his phone, get a tail on him and hold his passport. He’s bound to contact the others. Meanwhile I’ll pay a visit to Mills, P & W’s new president. If I’m not mistaken, he already knows Singh is here.”
“What about the offer to Singh?”
“It can wait.”
Chapter 62
Southampton, P & W’s headquarters
Allister Mills, acting president of P & W, was sitting in his new office smiling as he looked at the latest dramatic drop of the company’s shares when the phone rang. It was Toombs.
“I’ve had a phone call from Singh’s barrister, Giles Blount,” said Toombs.
“Singh’s barrister? What’s happening? What do you mean?” Mills’s smile evaporated as he looked up from the London Stock Market Report.
“You heard me. They picked up Singh for questioning.”
“They who?”
“Scotland Yard. And Dulac.”
“Christ! That’s all we need.”
“Listen, Dulac’s putting the pieces together. Singh told Blount that Dulac apparently knows about Mirolet. He also mentioned that you stopped payment on the insurance policy.”
Mills felt the blood rush to his temples. “We were trying to save the company. It was a cash-flow issue.”
“Sure, sure. Save your breath for the policemen, Allister.”
“I’m looking at the share price. It’s down to 2.6 pounds. We have to cover the short tomorrow morning.”
“Are you out of your mind?” said Toombs. “I tell you they have Singh. He’s scared shitless that what happened to Messier, Binagro and Bolding will happen to him. He’s about to blab to the cops and you’re talking about covering the short on the stock? They’re going to eventually take a closer look at Mirolet and put two and two together.”
“Aren’t you the one who said no one can touch Mirolet?” said Mills. “To quote your very words, it’s an ‘impregnable fortress in an unreachable legal galaxy’. I believe that was your expression.”
“What I meant was with the numbered companies, no one can find out about the ownership of Mirolet. But if Singh blows the whistle on it as a shareholder, the Swiss will have to investigate.”
Mills thought fast. “Can’t we close the short, then dissolve Mirolet?”
“The shareholders can do what they want, but personally, I’d rather play Russian roulette.”
“We lose over 20 million pounds if we don’t close,” said Mills.
“Do what you want. But remember Allister, I’m not a party to any of your physical stuff,” said Toombs. “I’ve drafted an affidavit to that effect. If something happens to me, the whole world gets to know everything, and I mean everything down to the last detail. Tell that to your friends so they don’t get any funny ideas. And tell those fucking goons in the Land Rovers to get off my case.”
The line clicked dead.
Mills put down the receiver just as he spotted Bolding’s secretary walking hurriedly towards his office. ”Excuse me sir, it’s Inspector Dulac.”
“Again? Tell him I’m busy.”
“I tried, sir, but he—”
Dulac brushed by the brunette and burst into Mills’s office.
“What the hell is the meaning of this?”
“Just a few questions.”
“I don’t have time. Unless you have—”
“I can wait.” Dulac settled into one of the chairs.
Mills looked at his watch. “I have a meeting downtown in 10 minutes.”
“It can wait.”
“What is so damn urgent that you can’t take an appointment, like everybody else?”
“Let’s start with Tajar Singh. Of course you know we’ve arrested and questioned him.” Dulac looked intently at Mills for a reaction.
Mills was expressionless. “No. I didn’t. Where is he?”
“Scotland Yard. He’s going to talk to us about Mirolet.”
“I’m sorry, you’ve lost me. What is Mirolet?”
Dulac couldn’t help but appreciate Mill’s performance. “All right, I’ll play along and make believe you don’t know about the Swiss corporation Andrew Toombs incorporated two weeks before the hijacking of the Caravan Star, the one that benefited from part of the ransom money.”
Mills stood up. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Mr. Dulac. Now if you’ll excuse me, I must go.”
Dulac stood before the doorway, blocking Mills’s exit. “Why did you stop the payment of the insurance policy, Mr. Mills, thereby triggering the cross-default clause?”
“I’ve mentioned it before and I’ll say it again. We had a cash flow problem and I had to manage various debts in order of precedence. Besides, I fail to see how that’s any of your business. What exactly are you doing here, Mr. Dulac?”
“I’m piecing together a puzzle. A puzzle involving the deaths of twenty-seven people aboard the Caravan Star and the murders of Sir Adrian Bolding, Leon Binagro and Henri Messier.”
“Sir Adrian committed suicide. Now if you don’t mind, I have a meeting to attend.”Mills moved until he stood directly in front of Dulac.
“Actually it was murder.”
“Really? And why would anyone want to murder Sir Adrian?”
“Try greed for one, and possibly—”
“I don’t follow.”
“I think you do.”
“I don’t like the tone of this conversation, Mr. Dulac.” Mills crossed his arms on his chest.
“I didn’t think you would.”
Mills went back behind his desk and picked up the phone. “I’m calling my solicitor.”
“Andrew Toombs, presumably.”
Twenty minutes later, with his tie askew and his forehead sweaty, Andrew Toombs entered Bolding’s office. Toombs glared at Dulac. “You realize you have no authority here except as support to a British investigator. I don’t see one here at the moment.”
“You disappoint me, Mr. Toombs,” said Dulac. “As a lawyer, I thought you’d be aware of Section 23 of the Britain-Interpol Cooperation Agreement, which gives me the right to arrest and hold any criminal or criminals suspected of a cross-border crime.”
“And what has this to do with my client Mr. Mills?” said Toombs.
“Let me draw you the picture, Mr. Toombs. We’ve learned that a portion of the ransom money was transferred to a Swiss corporation named Mirolet SA, the corporation you yourself incorporated two weeks before the hijacking of the Caravan Star. We have a copy of the incorporating documents.”
“So what? Lawyers around the globe incorporate Swiss corporations every day. They can’t be held responsible for what the clients do afterwards. What I’m curious about is how can you be sure that part of the ransom was received by Mirolet?”
“Leon Binagro’s CD transfer files. The Costa Rican police obtained possession of them before his killer was able to.”
“Interesting. As I said, my involvement stopped after the incorporation.”
“Yet Mirolet’s PO box rental payments were traced back to you.”
“That’s done automatically for all my clients with offshore accounts.”
“So we tried to take a peek at who’s behind Mirolet and of course we hit the proverbial Swiss brick wall. They need proof of a major crime before they’ll investigate. So we say “Hello? Hijacking is not a major crime?” To which they answer we must prove to them that those particular payments were linked to the hijacking, as they received funds from Binagro on a regular basis, quite a few that day. So we asked them to at least look at the amounts to see if they correspond to the amounts of the ransom. They said they’d take the issue under consideration.”
“So what has any of this got to do with my client?” said Toombs.
“Mirolet has taken a short position on P & W shares, betting they will go down.”
“That’s done thousands of times a day all over the world by sophisticated investors who want to protect their por
tfolio,” said Mills.
“Against unexpected, unforeseen negative events, Mr. Mills,” said Dulac. “Otherwise you’re doing insider trading, a criminal act. But let’s leave that aside for the moment. So we continued to dig and we found that Mr. Toombs here has been receiving a lot of calls from Bolding and—”
“Of course. He’s P & W’s lawyer,” said Mills.
“And from a mysterious caller whose phone is encrypted and unregistered. So when we tried to find out who that mysterious caller was, , Henri Messier gets killed and I get shot at in my garage. All within 24 hours. As a lawyer Mr. Toombs, wouldn’t you say that’s a bit too many coincidences? You wouldn’t care to tell me who the owner of that phone is either, would you, Mr. Toombs?”
Toombs coughed and cleared his throat. “Even if I knew, I would be breaking my oath of confidentiality if I told anyone.”
“Of course you would. Just testing. Anyway it doesn’t matter. We already know who that person is. But let’s continue, shall we? So we identified the owner and were just about to call on him and ask him questions when Bolding got murdered in his home, just after P & W announces that it’s about to sue the US government for 5.1 billion dollars. The stock reacts first positively, then starts to dive upon the news of Bolding’s death, thereby validating Mirolet’s short position. Still with me gentlemen?”
“Very entertaining, Mr. Dulac, and entirely speculative,” said Toombs. “You still haven’t told me what this has to do with my client, so if you have nothing further to say, I suggest—”