Chapter 92
Two continents away in Nigeria, Ashby paid the loss adjuster Mzenga a handsome bonus. Then, early the next day, he boarded a flight to Cape Town.
While knowing nothing of the events in London, as far as the Captain Stratos was concerned, Ashby knew he was approaching match point. This time, it was really going to be make or break. He couldn’t keep chasing around the world forever. If the Marseillaise didn’t tell him why Christoforou went to Lagos, he was at a dead end.
If he found nothing further, the fraudsters might thank him for having proved their claim for them. The hotel booking could be proof of barratry. If it was, they’d get their money. Eventually, Christoforou would get his share. Consequently, to expect a confession from him was fanciful.
The thought gnawed at him that his excursion to Africa was a waste of time. It might have been better if he’d never gone to Lagos at all.
In hindsight, Ashby had been out-flanked by Hellas Global’s ‘silk’, their leading counsel, Montague Ransome. If the Captain and crew had mysteriously survived, then a claim for barratry would still make Plantation pay. Hellas Global would innocently say that whatever Christoforou and the crew had done in Lagos or anywhere else had nothing to do with them : criminality had taken place on the high seas, over which they had no control. Elefthriou would say that the Portuguese Coast Guard told him there were no survivors. Naturally, he assumed that the Captain and crew had gone down with the ship. It was impossible for him to know what had gone on off the coast of Portugal on the night when the distress signals were sent. This was what he would say in court and it had wrong-footed Ashby.
Whilst unaware of events in the Companies Court, he imagined Hellas Global and their lawyers laughing at his expense. Very helpfully, he’d uncovered evidence to prove their claim under the policy. Barratry was often excluded in marine insurance in London but Nigel Black hadn’t checked the contract. He’d merely gone along with whatever Thanakis, Grant and the shipowners wanted. This wasn’t unusual. Many underwriters coweringly accept unreasonable terms demanded by brokers. Sometimes, this can decimate their company and lose them their jobs. This game of cat and mouse is played each year on renewal of cover. In some years when there are too many claims, the mouse can end up biting the cat.
Thus, on any view, it was not a pretty picture. To defeat the barratry claim, Ashby would have to prove that Elefthriou colluded with the master and crew to sink the ship ; alternatively, that they conspired for an illegal purpose – such as smuggling contraband.
His theorem was saying there was a high probability that Hellas Global was linked to Benin Maritime and the Marseillaise. But there were other calculations implying the opposite – that Cape Town was a false assumption. Balancing the two opposing theorems against each other, it was more intuition than hard fact that he was trusting for guidance. In the assortment of details, the pattern of occurrences inferred that the answer was there, in front of him, staring him in the face, waiting to be found.
Between Lagos and Namibia, the flight was a bumpy one, over arid territory on which the drifting clouds cast shadows below. He felt as if half of his life was spent on planes ; it was an unglamorous existence, living out of suitcases and hotel rooms in different cities. On this occasion, the airline food was unusual – ‘Kalahari steak’. He’d never eaten ostrich before but the South African wine was good at suppressing the flavour. With hours to spare, he planned his campaign for when he arrived.
Before leaving Lagos, he’d asked Mzenga to alert Paxton’s Cape Town office to ring him at his hotel. He wanted them to be fully briefed on the progress he’d made. Mzenga had got straight onto it. He knew Plantation could be one of his biggest clients over the next decade and he spent a solid hour on the phone to Cape Town, giving them all the information he had.
After landing and the usual scrum of disembarkation, as soon as he emerged from customs, he collected his bag and in the arrivals section of the airport, he saw a man in a suit holding a sign with the word ‘Ashby’ written on it. He hadn’t requested any concierge or chauffeur service from his hotel and had told Mzenga in Lagos for Paxton’s to ring him.
A second man stood alongside the one with the sign.
In the crowd, Ashby slipped out of the airport and hailed a taxi to his hotel which was outside the city centre.
He arrived at a resort overlooking a beach with Table Mountain looming inland in the distance. The place was full of Swedish and German tourists. As soon as he’d unpacked, Paxton’s in Cape Town rang him and he spoke with their representative who was to help him during his stay.
“You’ve arrived just at the right moment, Mr Ashby. The Marseillaise is due to dock this evening and will be in the port for half a day only. If you want to look her over, you’ll have to be quick. The Harbour Authority told me that she is sitting off the coast at the moment and that the tugs will bring her in at seven o’clock.”
Plantation A Legal Thriller Page 92