Whistleblower

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Whistleblower Page 80

by Terry Morgan

CHAPTER 79

  "Yah, Toni. It is...........Ah, it is not Toni. Guten tag, Mr Eischmann. Wie geht es dir?"

  Guido was in his Milan warehouse when Dirk Eischmann phoned. He listened, then stood up from his chair, a look on his face that would have curdled fresh milk.

  "Verdammte Scheiye! When did that fucking blonde prick go? Where did he go?"

  He listened again. "Yah, the money was transferred. It is in Panama. I checked......There is no problem. Guido's new version of Puff and Slush works perfectly and the blonde prick Kerkman did his job on Monday morning as instructed. So why has he gone?"

  A pause.

  "Yah, yah. Of course. It is possible to check if he takes money from his account, but we will empty it first. He will have nothing. But it is not the money, it is whether he has decided to talk. I never liked that prick ever since you found him......very sorry Mr E, but..... Yah, he was too... too serious... too big.... too much muscle, like a policeman. But do not panic Mr E, we will find him.........How?.......I'm not sure, Mr E. I will need to think."

  Another pause.

  "We are checking on this Walton company, but they have a website so the world knows about them. They cannot be serious competitors." Guido now chuckled like a child. "I was upset with their Sierra Leone bid but that was because they were tempted by a Nigerian. They can do nothing, Mr E. We have stuffed them one hundred percent because you did your part and we bought the Cherry Picking business. Those two Lebanese bastards are also stuffed because..... what shall we say....... their local management is gone."

  Guido, strutting in circles around his desk, continued to listen to Dirk Eischmann talking, but he hated listening to anyone and Eischmann was talking far more than he had ever done before. It was continuous, without a break. With the phone tucked beneath his soft chin, Guido's strutting became heavier and heavier until he was stamping his feet. His hands flapped around his head desperately trying to cover his ears. And still Eischmann talked. Guido marched to his chair like a scolded boy, sat down heavily, sniffed, his hands trembling, now playing with the cap from the old can of blue spray paint on the desk. Finally, he took a deep breath.

  "Si, si. I am still here," he said. "Mi scusi, Herr Eischmann, but why do you speak to Guido like that? It is not normal. We are amico del cuore, good friends These little problems they come and they go. Problems are normal in business and we have good news as well, Herr Eischmann.........Yah, very good news...........Silvester the Investor." Guido tried to giggle again. "He is on our side now, you will see. The expansion plans are in place....."

  But Eischmann interrupted again and Guido's pig-like eyes widened. He bit his trembling lower lip and was forced to listen for another half minute.

  "Yah, I am here. How so many people, Herr Eischmann.... Mr Dirk? I did not know there were so many...........Ahhh, that is many too many...... too many staff are now Members of our club. How can we keep control over that many? Who pays them? It is not through Puff and Slush........So it is cash from senior Members........But that is very bad management, Herr Dirk...........not to say it is your bad management, but someone else, I cannot think who. But a good business is a simple business, Mr E........Yah, very sorry, Herr Dirk."

  Guido stood up again, listening, pounding noisily across the steel floor of his mezzanine office, the sound echoing through the warehouse. "The politicians? Yah, Guido deals with some of those, but in your organisation, how many are members?...........Wah! You don't know? How is this so? Why you not tell me so before. This is also not so good, Herr Dirk. "

  He circled once, twice, still listening, his free hands clenched into tight little fists. Then he stopped, perfectly still and took a deep breath. "We must find Kerkman before he talks, Mr E, but.......but I do not know where to start."

  Guido only just withstood another two minutes of Eischmann's voice. When he finally stopped, he slid the phone across his desk and screamed like a spoiled child. But then he retrieved it and pressed a single key.

  "Yah, Toni. We have some problems, my flower. Where are you?.......Why are you still in London?.........Has Silvester agreed yet?...........Why not?............Why don't you like him?.....This is not a time for childish stupidity, but if you don't like him, leave him and come here immediately. We need to talk."

  Guido was losing control.

 

 

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