I nod. ‘He threatened me too, but …’
‘Why didn’t you tell me?’
‘I thought he was bluffing.’
‘Bluffing? Christ.’ Joe bows his head and rubs his fingers up and down his forehead. ‘Con wouldn’t hurt Mum, would he? I mean, I just do a job for him. I just analyse stocks.’
‘Maybe you analyse stocks like you play Go – better than anyone else.’
‘But that’s crazy. I mean, I know Con comes over as a bit of a tough guy, but he wouldn’t, seriously he wouldn’t, sabotage Mum’s car just to … keep me working for him. Would he?’
‘You know him better than I do, Joe.’
‘He worked with my father. Mum’s always said Dad should never have trusted him. I don’t exactly trust him myself. I just get paid to do a job. That’s all it is, Nicole. A fucking job. I’m not his slave.’
‘I’m sure he’ll deny having anything to do with your mother’s accident. And maybe that’s all it was. An accident. Although Duncan seems to think there’s something suspicious about it. So …’
‘Shit,’ Joe mutters.
‘We could take you all away, Joe. You, Karen and your mother. Out of Vogler’s reach. Venstrom could arrange that.’
‘You talk like we need to go into a witness protection programme.’
‘The alternative is to turn Venstrom down and go on doing what Vogler wants you to do for him. For the rest of your life. Or until he’s finished with you.’
‘And pretend I don’t know what he did to my mother?’
‘We can’t be sure he did anything. I assume the police are looking at the car. If it was tampered with, they’ll find out.’
‘Doesn’t that depend how expertly it was tampered with? It’ll be weeks before we know, anyway.’ Joe shakes his head dolefully. Then his phone pings. He looks at it. ‘Duncan. Mum’s arrived on the ward.’ He jumps up, scooping up the Go stones and folding his board shut.
‘I’m sure she’s going to be all right, Joe,’ I say, aware of how platitudinous that must sound.
He looks down at me. ‘I’d rather you didn’t come in with me, Nicole.’
‘OK.’
‘I’m trying really hard not to blame you for this.’
There’s a reproachful edge to his voice and I can’t summon a response. I just try not to flinch.
‘If you hadn’t come looking for me …’
He doesn’t seem to want to finish the sentence and I don’t want him to either.
‘I’ll see you later.’
He heads for the hospital side-entrance then, slightly hunched as he strides along.
I watch him disappear into the building and wonder just where we go from here.
Then, quite suddenly, I’m aware of Ursula standing a few feet away from me.
‘God. Ursula. I didn’t see you there.’
‘Neither did Joe. Or, if he did, he didn’t look at me long enough to recognize me.’
‘He’s gone to see Liz. They’ve just transferred her on to a ward after surgery. He’s a bit … distracted.’
‘Understandably.’
‘Duncan Forrester’s here as well.’
‘I know. I parked near his car.’
‘We should—’
‘Leave them to it?’
I smile uncertainly. ‘Something like that.’ I’m beginning to wonder how long Ursula’s been within earshot.
And then she tells me. ‘I have to make a confession, Nicole. I listened to your conversation with Joe. That probably sounds terrible. But I didn’t like to interrupt. And then …’
‘And then?’
‘I realized you and I might be able to do each other a favour.’
‘I’m sorry?’
‘We share a problem.’
‘We do?’
‘Conrad Vogler. It’s possible we can share a solution as well.’
‘I can’t imagine what you mean.’
‘I’d be happy to explain. Why don’t we talk in my car? It’s getting cold out here.’
There’s no arguing with that. The sky’s darkening. The air’s growing chill. But I’m suspicious and she knows it.
‘A super-yacht moored off Castle Point this afternoon,’ she says, with no obvious relevance, as we walk away together. ‘Massive thing. The owner probably thinks it’s beautiful. To my eye it’s rather ugly.’
‘I saw it earlier.’
‘You did? Well, you know what I mean, then. I suppose it’s too much to expect such people to possess good taste in addition to great wealth. Especially when you consider how they came by that wealth.’
‘You talk as if you know the owner.’
‘I feel as if I do in some ways, though I’ve never actually met him. He and Conrad Vogler, on the other hand, are well acquainted.’
‘They are?’
‘From what I overheard, Venstrom want to offer Joe a job. To exploit his talent at Go for … what, programming a superior gaming system? Something like that, anyway. They sent you down here to sound him out. Is that basically it?’
‘I’m not sure I want to discuss this with you, Ursula. I’m not sure it’s any of your business.’
‘Ordinarily, it wouldn’t be. But Vogler’s the overlap on our Venn diagram.’
‘If you say so.’
‘I do. Now tell me, what’s made Duncan Forrester suspicious about Liz’s car crash?’
‘The lack of skid marks at the scene.’
‘Doesn’t that suggest brake failure? Like Hazel said.’
‘He reckons Liz’s car is too well maintained for that to be plausible.’
‘Well, I’d back him to know, wouldn’t you? Here we are.’
Ursula’s parked in what isn’t actually a bay at all, rather a striped-off triangle under a pine tree. Forrester’s driving school car is more neatly parked a few bays away.
We get in. As the doors close, the sounds of the evening are suddenly cut off. There are only our voices now, talking quietly in the gathering darkness.
‘I really do work for HMRC,’ Ursula says once we’re settled. ‘At any rate, an agency of HMRC. But VAT isn’t my priority. Conrad Vogler is.’
‘If you’re going to tell me he’s fiddling his income tax, I won’t be surprised.’
‘It’s a little more serious than that. What I’m about to say is highly confidential. It can go no further. You understand?’
I nod.
‘Vogler acts as money launderer for an organized crime syndicate called the Clearing House. They’re basically problem-solvers for lower-level organizations who need to get things done in places where they have no presence or influence of their own. Hence the name. Vogler’s role is to turn the payments the Clearing House receives into legitimate assets and make a profit while he’s doing it.
‘That’s where Joe comes in. I’m sure he’s no idea who Vogler’s clients are. There’s no reason why he should suspect his employer is up to his neck in international crime. Besides, that’s not how he functions, is it? Stocks and shares. Go. Both are games to Joe. Games he’s good at winning. He doesn’t want to look too deeply into things. He’s brilliant at what he does. But he’s also content with what he does. Creative. But not inquisitive.’
Ursula pauses, as if waiting for me to comment. But until I understand where we’re going, she’s going to get nothing more out of me.
‘The source of the money Vogler handles for the Clearing House is hidden in a labyrinth of offshore shell companies. The trades Joe works on abide by all the rules, though the calls he makes are certainly unorthodox. They’re also hugely profitable. Which explains, I think we can assume, why Vogler’s as reluctant to lose his services as Venstrom are eager to acquire them. Joe’s obviously a genius. As such he’s irreplaceable. An organization like the Clearing House doesn’t tolerate failure. And a fall in the profits Vogler’s generating for them would definitely count as failure. So, you see, Vogler simply can’t afford to act like a normal employer and let Joe go. As you’ve discovered.
And as Joe’s discovered now too.
‘I’m part of a small team that’s been trying to pin something on Vogler for a long time. But he’s clever and careful. He has no electronic or written communications with the Clearing House that we can trace. It all seems to be done face to face. What we need – what we can’t proceed without – is hard evidence. And I think you can help us get it.’
A silence falls. I have no idea what she can be about to suggest. In the end, it seems she requires me to ask. ‘How?’
‘The super-yacht’s called the Dymas. It belongs to Andreas Kremer, a high roller in the Clearing House. He’s basically their CFO. It looks to me like he’s coming down for a meeting with Vogler. Probably tomorrow. Kremer will fly in. The Dymas comes complete with a helipad. The meeting will be on board, I suspect, so they can talk freely in a secure environment. Of course, if we could eavesdrop on that conversation, we might well get the kind of hard evidence we need.’
‘But you can’t.’
‘Not as it stands. And we have very little time to act. This is a rare opportunity. I don’t want to let it slip. I’m hoping you’ll agree to help. You’ve had dealings with Vogler. You have every reason to talk to him again. Intercept him in St Mawes tomorrow on his way to the quay, which is where he’ll be picked up by launch. Engage him in conversation. After what’s happened to Liz that won’t be difficult. In fact, he’ll probably be expecting some kind of approach from you, so he won’t be suspicious.’
‘What exactly do you want me to do?’
‘Plant a listening device on him. It’s very small. And light. Fabric-adhesive on one side to attach itself to the inside of a cuff or a lapel. Get close enough to him, make sure he’s paying attention to what you’re saying, not what you’re doing with your hands, and it should be possible.’
‘Why don’t you do it yourself?’
‘Because the micro-transmitter has a limited range, so I’ll need to be out on the water when the time comes in a Customs launch, as close to the boat as we can get without attracting attention. I can’t be in two places at once. So, it has to be you or it won’t work.’
‘You’re serious, aren’t you?’
‘Absolutely. This could be the break you need too. Think about it. A recording of Vogler’s meeting with Kremer should give us more than enough to bring charges against him. Once he’s in custody, he’ll be out of Joe’s life. We get whatever he’s ultimately willing to tell us about the Clearing House plus the disruption to their activities the loss of their money launderer is bound to cause them. You get your game-programming genius. It’s win-win.’
‘Unless he catches me in the act, that is.’
‘If you can’t manage it when the time comes, or decide it’s just too risky, I’ll quite understand. But if you can manage it …’
‘You’re asking a lot.’
‘Perhaps. But ask yourself how else you’re going to extricate Joe from Vogler’s clutches. He’ll never have the nerve to leave now he believes Vogler targeted his mother. This is our chance, Nicole. Kremer coming here is a godsend. We have to take advantage of it.’
‘You have to.’
‘I’d say you’d be wise too as well, Nicole. There’s nothing to say Vogler won’t target Karen next. Or you. And besides, I assume saving the day where Joe’s concerned will win you a lot of brownie points at Venstrom. You have to think of your career as well.’
‘It won’t do your career any harm either.’
‘True. But you’re much better placed to pull this off than I am. And like I said before, you don’t have to go through with it if you reckon it’s going to go wrong. Won’t you at least look at the device and see whether you think it’s feasible?’
‘You’ve got it with you?’
‘No. It’s at Tideways. We can go back there now. We may as well. I get the feeling Joe doesn’t want you sitting by his mother’s bedside with him, don’t you?’
‘I—’ My phone pings. It’s Carl. I consider blanking him again, but he’s going to get seriously narked if I go on doing that. ‘I have to take this,’ I explain to Ursula, climbing out of the car.
‘Sure,’ is all she says.
I slam the door behind me and walk far enough away from the car to be sure she can’t hear what I’m saying. I end up standing next to Forrester’s car. Rise to the Test with the Forrester School of Motoring reads the message on the passenger door. I raise my phone to my ear.
‘Hi, Carl.’
‘I haven’t heard from you all day, Nicole. What’s going on?’
‘I was waiting to hear from you about Vogler’s response.’
‘He’s gone quiet.’
‘Not exactly.’
‘What d’you mean?’
‘Joe’s mother has been injured in a car crash.’
‘Sorry to hear that. What’s it got to do with us?’
‘Her brakes may have been tampered with.’
‘What? Are you suggesting Vogler tampered with them?’
‘Maybe.’
‘Christ, Nicole, that’s crazy. You need to pull yourself together. Joe’s mother prangs her car and suddenly you’re wetting your knickers. I thought you could handle this. I was obviously wrong.’
I tell myself firmly not to get angry. I’m just going to let Carl know exactly where we stand. ‘Joe thinks Vogler’s responsible. So, he isn’t going to risk any further repercussions. Which means he won’t come and work for us. That’s what we’ve got to handle.’
‘Fucking hell. This was supposed to be simple. How have you managed to lose control of the situation so totally?’
‘Because it’s a much more complex situation than we ever knew. And I think Vogler has given us his answer. You just don’t want to believe it. And neither do I. But we might have to.’
‘Bullshit.’ There’s a pause. I can almost hear him thinking. Then: ‘All right. I’m coming down there to sort this, since you obviously can’t. I’ll take an early train tomorrow. I’ll have Kyra book me into the same hotel as you in St Mawes. You can pick me up from Truro. Think you can manage that?’ He doesn’t wait for an answer. ‘I’ll let you know my arrival time in the morning. And Nicole …’
‘Yes?’
‘Do nothing until I get there. OK?’
Again, he doesn’t wait for an answer. Which is probably just as well. Because I’ve already decided what to do. And it isn’t nothing.
I get back into Ursula’s car. ‘Everything all right?’ she asks neutrally.
‘I’ll do it,’ I hear myself say.
What I really mean is that I’ll put myself in a position where I can do it, even though I suspect in the end I’ll reckon it’s too difficult or dangerous to pull off. Ursula probably realizes that, though she doesn’t say so.
The roads are quieter on the drive back to Falmouth. Neither of us speaks. It’s as if we don’t want to risk getting to know each other too well. I ask myself whether I wouldn’t be wiser doing as Carl wants and letting him find out for himself that Vogler isn’t negotiating with us in any genuine sense. But then the chance to nail Vogler would slip through our fingers, Joe would be left working for a man he now has good cause to fear and Carl would ensure I took the blame for its all going wrong. Career-ending? Not far short, I reckon. ‘Fuck,’ I mutter.
‘What did you say?’ asks Ursula.
‘Nothing,’ I assure her.
Like she said, the bug she wants me to plant on Vogler is small, no bigger or heavier than a five pence piece. I can see how it could be placed inconspicuously inside a cuff or collar or pocket. What I can’t see is how Vogler could fail to notice me doing it. And I don’t like to imagine what the consequences of being caught in the act might be. But Ursula keeps reassuring me I don’t have to go through with it unless the circumstances are right.
‘Remember, you don’t have to do it when it comes to the point, Nicole. And you shouldn’t, if you think it’s not going to work. It’s not in your interests or mine for him to realize what we’re trying to
do. Better to walk away in that case. Much better. No one will blame you.’
I’m not sure about that. Maybe I will. ‘What time do you think this meeting will happen?’
‘I don’t know. Obviously we’ll have to wait for Kremer’s helicopter to arrive. And then we’ll have to wait for Vogler to set off for the boat. We’ll keep in touch by text.’
It sounds as if Carl may have to whistle for that lift from Truro. Annoying him will be worth it, though, if this plan delivers what Ursula hopes for. And if not, well, he can’t be much more pissed off with me than he already is.
The rest of the evening hangs heavy. I plan to spend the night at the hotel in St Mawes rather than Tideways, so I can be ready to move as soon as Ursula says, but I don’t want to draw any attention to myself, so I leave my departure as late as possible.
When my phone rings I assume it’s Carl again. But I’m wrong.
‘Hi, Karen.’
‘You know about Liz, right? Joe says you were at the hospital earlier.’
‘Yes. I was there.’
‘Joe’s on his way back here now. Liz is “comfortable”, apparently. He thinks she’s going to be OK. But he says this changes everything. You know what he means, don’t you?’
‘Yes. I know.’
‘It can’t be true, can it?’ I’m not sure how much Joe has told her and I can’t afford to guess. ‘I mean, it’s totally insane.’
‘We probably shouldn’t discuss this on the phone, Karen.’
‘Joe never would’ve talked to you if he’d known it could lead to something like this. I wouldn’t have either.’
‘You can blame me if it helps.’
‘I would if it did.’
‘I’m sorry. I really am.’
‘You should be.’
‘Why don’t we talk again tomorrow?’
‘Why? What’s going to change?’
It’s a good question. She hangs up and leaves it with me, unanswered.
An hour or so later, while I’m packing an overnight bag, there’s a knock on the door. I assume it’s Ursula. But I’m wrong again.
Duncan Forrester looks grave but calm. Maybe it’s his default expression. ‘I thought I should tell you Liz is doing quite well. She’s groggy, of course, after the operation, but all the indicators are good, apparently.’
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