Jigsaw Lovers

by William Shenton

  Putting his glass down on the desk, Travis opened the file that lay in front of him and held up two pages of closely typed information.

  ‘This is a dossier on James, the personal assistant you hired a while ago. It contains some rather disturbing information, which I thought I should pass on to you.’

  ‘Really? What sort of information?’ Ackermann tried not to show too much concern, but at the same time to be suitably interested. For he had a fair idea as to what the dossier contained.

  ‘This is a copy of a charge that was laid against him five years ago for extortion.’ He picked up his glass and drained it.

  ‘I don’t believe it.’ said Ackermann, stretching to fill his partner’s empty glass. ‘I personally checked his background. I didn’t find any indication of a criminal record.’

  ‘Technically he hasn’t got one. The case never went to trial.’

  ‘So what’s this information you’ve got there, and where did it come from?’

  ‘I was having lunch the other day with a friend of mine who’s a lawyer. James came into the restaurant and said hello on the way to his table. My friend felt sure he recognised him but couldn’t place him. Anyway, this morning he sent this file around by messenger. He’d remembered where he’d last known James.’ He paused to sip his whisky.

  ‘About five years ago there were rumours of a property speculator intimidating landlords of rundown office blocks, who didn’t have the capital to refurbish them properly, into giving him long leases on the buildings. The speculator would then do them up and resell the lease at a huge profit.’

  ‘It sounds very similar to what we’ve done on occasion, only we haven’t intimidated anyone. At least I don’t think we did.’ Ackermann laughed and looked casually but closely at Travis’s eyes for any sign of a reaction, as he said this.

  ‘Yes, I suppose we have.’

  ‘How does this tie in with James?’

  ‘James was rumoured to be the front man for the unknown speculator. He would handle the negotiations and when necessary make the threats and send in the thugs.’

  ‘I don’t believe it. I would never have dreamed of James behaving in such a manner. Do you have proof to substantiate these rumours?’

  ‘One day there was a landlord who stood up to them. Despite the threats he went to the police and was prepared to testify. He identified James and a charge of extortion was laid against him. Naturally James denied it and didn’t implicate anyone else. My lawyer friend was to be part of the prosecution team.’

  ‘What happened?’

  ‘The landlord, the prosecution’s main witness, on whom the whole case depended, disappeared two days before the trial was to begin. The case was dismissed before it ever started. The landlord was never seen again. Not even a body.’ Travis reached for his drink.

  ‘I can see why you’re concerned, but James was never convicted of any offence, and he is very useful to the company.’ Ackermann sat back in his chair.

  ‘But don’t you find it a bit more than just a coincidence that he was instrumental in advising you when we moved to these offices, which we thought were such a lucky bargain.’

  ‘I see what you mean.’ Ackermann paused as if in thought and refilled the glasses. ‘Perhaps I should have a word with him in the morning.’

  ‘You don’t want to leave it until I return, and we can confront him together?’

  ‘No, I think its best if I sort matters out immediately, now that you’ve raised it. Can you leave me that file, and your lawyer friend’s name, in case I need to ask him any questions.’

  ‘It’s in the file.’

  ‘Well, I think that’s everything. Enjoy your holiday. Watch out for avalanches.’

  Ackermann’s words were to turn out to be prophetic.

  It took the rescue teams three days to recover John Travis’s battered and broken body from beneath many hundreds of tons of snow. It seemed he had been skiing off-piste, with a stranger he had met that day, in a remote area of the resort. They had either missed or ignored a warning sign and the path they took led them to their deaths. The stranger’s body was never found.

  The following week John Travis’s lawyer friend was driving home, when his car was involved in a head-on collision with an articulated lorry. He died in the ambulance on the way to hospital.

  Under the Ackermann-Travis partnership agreement, in the event of one partner dying the other automatically acquired his shareholding. This left Dan Ackermann the sole owner of what then became Ackermann Public Relations, and eventually Ackermann International.

  The world at large perceived Ackermann International to be a very successful international public relations consultancy. After almost thirty years in the business it had built up a reputation of excellence that was reflected in its many diverse high profile accounts. It now listed amongst its more prestigious clients an oil company, an international airline, both national and foreign banks and a major political party.

  Dan Ackermann, whilst overseeing the whole, delegated the day-to-day running of this side of the business to a team of executives that he had selected and trained for their various responsibilities. They reported to him weekly, which left him with plenty of time to pursue with enthusiasm another business venture that he had developed over the years.

  Unlike the public relations consultancy with which everyone was familiar, very few knew about his other interest. The client list on this side was short but high-powered, and newcomers were only added to it after the most rigorous in-depth scrutiny and referrals. Ackermann provided a service for his clients that few other consultancies did, or if they did, then like Ackermann, they kept it extremely private and discreet.

  The old maxim ‘knowledge equals power’ proved to be correct to Ackermann at an early stage of his business development. The profit they made from the sale of their Soho property inspired him to look for similar undervalued sites. Initially these were easy to come by, but as time went on owners became more aware of the value of their property, and bargains became more difficult to find.

  On one occasion there was a piece of land that Ackermann particularly wished to acquire but the owner refused to negotiate on the price. Ackermann was so incensed by the man’s intransigence that he set about finding other ways to persuade him to part with his property at what he considered a more favourable price. He went about this by hiring the services of a private detective to try and dig up some incriminating information on the owner that they could then use to get him to see sense.

  Much to his surprise this had proved remarkably easy. Although supposedly happily married the man was having a homosexual affair with a boy of seventeen, which technically was an imprisonable offence. When threatened with exposure the landlord gave in immediately, and in exchange for the negatives parted with his property at below market value.

  There were a number of other occasions when Ackermann used this approach for his personal benefit. He then started using it in some of his business transactions and he was surprised to see how many skeletons lurked in previously forgotten cupboards. It seemed a natural development that he should then offer this service to some of his more important and less scrupulous clients.

  He had engaged, using an assumed name, the same detective agency for a number of years. There were two partners, an older man in his fifties and a young sharp character in his twenties called James. Ackermann decided to acquire the company and have them work exclusively for him, investigating his company’s clients for useful pieces of information that could then be passed on at a profit. The old man decided it was too late in his life to change and opted for a golden handshake. James, however, joined the company as Ackermann’s personal assistant, with a private brief, answerable only to Ackermann, to set up an investigative team. The team would keep an eye on all of the company’s clients and assist suitably vetted outsiders in their quest for information.

  Ackermann’s intuition proved correct. Often his favoured clients would require information about the ac
tivities of their competitors, their fellow directors or employees that was not readily available through conventional channels. Over the years James had developed a specialist team of experts who were capable of gathering such information, without the person who was being investigated having any idea as to what was being found out about them and their best-forgotten secrets.

  There were also analysts who would scrutinise the information, find the weaknesses in the subject concerned and recommend a course of action to the client. In the past, recommended action had ranged from blackmail and extortion to various degrees and extremes of physical violence. Invariably the client was very pleased with the results so gained and happily parted with a sizable chunk of his public relations budget.

  It was one such happy client of Ackermann, a Japanese computer games manufacturer, who had developed a long-term business relationship and subsequently a close personal friendship with Ian Hamilton, who had recommended that Hamilton and Ackermann should meet as they might find grounds for mutual benefit.

  Hamilton had been in Tokyo at the time, attending the launch of the second game in the series that he was now principal adviser on. When asked by his host what his future plans were, Hamilton said he had various personal matters that he had been meaning to attend to for some time. Perhaps it was the innate discreteness of the Japanese that prompted him to ask his host if he knew anyone that could help him with some research. He disclosed nothing of the nature of his needs other than that he was faced with a situation that required both tact and diplomacy in the acquiring of certain information.

  The friend had considered him for a while and then told him he may be able to help; if he could, then somebody would contact him in ten days.

  It was early evening and Hamilton was watching a beautiful golden sun, setting in a cloudless sky over the sea, from the balcony of his penthouse in Clifton. This was one of the most expensive areas on Cape Town’s Atlantic seaboard and his apartment reflected this, having had a price tag of many millions. The sun had just dipped below the horizon turning the sky a warm red when his private telephone rang. Only six of his closest associates had access to this number. He walked into the room he used as a study and picked up the receiver.

  ‘Mr Hamilton,’ a sophisticated female voice began, ‘you have been referred to us by a mutual friend in the East.’

  At first Hamilton had no idea what she was talking about, then he remembered the conversation in Tokyo ten days earlier. ‘How did you get this number?’ he asked calmly. She ignored the question.

  ‘That is not important. Before I go on. You know the friend that I am referring to?’

  ‘Yes. He said someone would contact me.’

  ‘We understand you require information. Can you come to London in the near future to discuss your requirements?’

  Hamilton was surprised. ‘I suppose I could be there sometime next week.’

  ‘If it’s inconvenient we could arrange to meet with you in Cape Town.’

  ‘No problem. I have one or two things to attend to there anyway. I was intending to make a trip quite soon, actually. I’ll phone you when I get in.’

  ‘It’s probably better if we phone you. Where will you be staying?’

  ‘The Ritz.’

  ‘We’ll contact you when you arrive.’

  He put the receiver down. He was intrigued. The only people he had given this number to were male, and this did not include his friend in Tokyo who had offered to help.

  A week later the taxi he’d taken from Heathrow Airport dropped him outside the Ritz in Piccadilly. He checked in and went up to his room that overlooked Green Park. He had just finished taking a shower when the telephone ran.

  ‘Mr Hamilton?’ he recognised the sophisticated female voice.

  ‘Yes. Good morning. I’ve just arrived.’

  ‘So we understand. Can we meet tomorrow morning at eleven o’clock?’ she asked.

  ‘Yes, that’s fine. Where?’

  ‘Just around the corner from where you’re staying. Come to Ackermann International, twenty-third floor, St James Street. You’re to see Mr Ackermann.’

  Hamilton was ushered into Ackermann’s office by his personal assistant called James. The office was well appointed with views over the city and the river in the distance. The furnishings were of black leather, with Persian carpets on white marble flooring, and eighteenth century architectural engravings on two of the oak-panelled walls, and on the third, in pride of place, a Hockney swimming pool.

  Dan Ackermann appeared from a side door, mobile phone in hand.

  ‘Deliver it on Saturday afternoon at three. Not before. The party should have been going for an hour by then and all her friends will be there to see it arrive.’

  He put the handset down and introduced himself.

  ‘Dan Ackermann. Sorry about that. It’s my daughter Chantelle’s twelfth birthday on Saturday, and she’s been dropping hints for the last two months that she wants a pony. I’m afraid I can’t resist indulging her every whim. She’s such a beautiful little thing. My trainer’s found something suitable, and by leaving it until the afternoon before it’s delivered, it should come as quite a surprise to her.’ Ackermann was a very indulgent and devoted father. Chantelle was his only child from two marriages and there was nothing that he could deny her.

  He had often reflected how different his own childhood had been from that of his daughter. The family, coming from eastern Europe as refugees, had struggled to survive in the immediate post-war years. He had learnt of necessity to become self-reliant and secretive at an early age. All his first childhood experiences were kept to himself, a trait that stayed with him in later life, making him appear cool and distant. His first wife had managed to penetrate beneath his harsh exterior, but his opening-up was short-lived. His second wife, Caroline, never found the secret to his dark moods. Although they had a happy and stable marriage there were occasions when it was interspersed with cold silence on many issues. She had learnt that none of the icy, aloof moods had any relevance to her and had weathered each episode over the years.

  He took a seat opposite Hamilton across the glass-topped desk, with legs of roughly polished black granite. He was in his early fifties, alert and fit with no excess weight. He wore a dark grey pinstriped double-breasted suit with a pale blue shirt, gold monogrammed cuff-links and polka dot tie. He looked as Hamilton had imagined. Successful.

  ‘I trust you had a pleasant journey, Mr Hamilton.’

  ‘Not too bad.’

  ‘Thank you for taking the trouble to come over here and see us. I could have come to Cape Town, but with first meetings we find it better if our potential clients come and see how we operate, and what the facilities are that we can offer.’

  ‘I quite agree and I’m suitably impressed, with your offices at any rate. Fantastic view.’

  ‘Thank you. Do you mind if my assistant sits in on this meeting? It will save having to brief him later and he may well have something of value to contribute.’

  ‘He was the one who showed me in, wasn’t he? No objection at all.’ Ackermann pushed a button on his desk and a moment later James came through the door and took a seat to the left of Hamilton.

  ‘I understand from a mutual friend of ours that you require information,’ Ackermann began. ‘I assume its information about someone?’

  ‘That’s correct. A certain someone.’ Hamilton crossed his legs and leaned forward over the table’s edge. ‘But before we discuss that, I am a little curious and somewhat concerned as to how you acquired my private telephone number.’

  Ackermann smiled. ‘How shall I put this? We are in the research business. The company does a lot of normal research, but for some clients we carry out investigations that are a little more unconventional. Investigations that require the utmost discretion. We have a hunch that maybe your needs will fall into this category.’

  ‘I think they will but you haven’t answered my question,’ interrupted Hamilton.

  ‘I’m coming to t
hat. I just want to give you a general overview of how we operate, in order to help you understand us.

  ‘Much of what we research is very sensitive and confidential. We have to be very careful as to whom we work for, and we like to know as much as possible about our potential clients, in order to avoid the possibility of embarrassing incidents arising later in the relationship. As part of our standard procedure, even though you were highly recommended, we ran a check on you. You are here because we were satisfied with what we discovered about you.’

  ‘Well I’m extremely pleased to hear that,’ Hamilton answered somewhat sarcastically.

  ‘It’s just a normal precaution we take with all our new clients. Nothing for you to worry about.’

  ‘And the telephone number? How did you get hold of that?’

  ‘Oh that came up in the course of our check. It was perhaps a little theatrical of us to use it, but we hope it gives you some confidence in our abilities to find out whatever, no matter how secret, you may require.’

  ‘Would you mind telling me who gave it to you?’ Although appearing outwardly calm and uninterested, Hamilton was very curious and extremely angry, as to which of his six closest friends had revealed his private number. He would have to deal severely with whoever it was that had betrayed his trust.

  Ackermann smiled, ‘We never reveal our sources. But don’t worry it wasn’t from one of the six people who know the number.’

  After the initial shock, which he was unable to conceal, Hamilton had to admit that he was impressed by this piece of information.

  ‘We do try to be thorough in all of our dealings, Mr Hamilton,’ Ackermann said as he walked across the room to a cabinet. Opening it, without asking his guest, he poured two whiskies, one with water and ice that he handed to Hamilton.

  ‘Your preferred brand, if I’m to believe my own research. I hope these little indications of what we were able to find out about you, which I might add, did take considerable effort in the short time available, will give you confidence in our abilities to serve you.’