Skin in the Game, page 15
“I really don’t see how that has anything to do with your brother.”
“My brother—”
“Your brother was ambitious. And that ambition drove him to what I can only characterize as immoral and culpable conduct. He has tarnished our reputation, and that I won’t abide. This was and is deeply regrettable. He was one of our most prized employees and could have risen to the top level of our organization. Instead, he chose to throw all that away. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”
Blake stood and stared at Joe. The room was silent, the raindrops falling on the window not making a sound. Blake turned for the door. Claire and Blumee rose and followed. Joe raised his voice as they left the table.
“Sam found out something about Density. Something very wrong. I’m going find out what it was, Mr. Blake. And then I’ll find his killer.”
Sofi looked up to see the response. At the door, Blake turned and smiled at her. He winked and then strode out of the room.
“This meeting is concluded,” said Claire. “Sofi, I remind you we have important business we are working on currently. If I detect your investigation is having any adverse effect on our affairs, you will hear about it. I assure you.”
Claire motioned to Richard Blumee to show Joe and Sofi out.
*
Blumee guided them down the corridor. Sofi followed, Joe behind her. She spoke to Blumee from behind: “Richard, you were Sam’s friend, right?”
Richard glanced back and smiled.
“Can you think of anything Sam may have found out about Density?”
His smile wavered.
“I’ve told you everything I know, Sofi. You know he was highly strung. I think Cadan’s right. His ambition got the better of him.”
Sofi stopped at the elevator and stood in front of Blumee.
“I don’t believe it, Richard. And I don’t believe that you do, either. Sam was ambitious, but he wouldn’t have given up everything he had here to do business with some terrorists. It just doesn’t add up.”
Blumee shifted his eyes toward Joe who stood waiting for the elevator. Joe turned to him and gave him a dead stare. His head shook slightly.
“A lot of things don’t add up. His relationship with you for starters. Does that add up? And he was banging Kris at the same time.”
He let out a forced laugh. Joe glanced at Sofi and raised his eyebrows. Sofi took a step back.
“Kris?”
“Yes, Kristine Maarten, cute associate on our team. You know, if you’re going to have sex with someone you work with, you make sure she doesn’t report to you. You’re not going to make the best decisions if you do most of your thinking with your penis.”
Sofi inhaled sharply.
“Is she on your team now?”
“She handed in her resignation earlier this week. Just after we found out about Sam’s death. Not surprising. Her little plan to sleep her way up didn’t get off to a good start.”
*
As they descended in the elevator Joe kept his eyes on Sofi. She stared straight ahead.
“What did Blumee mean by your relationship with Sam?”
“I’m not sure. Let’s talk about it once we’ve left the building.”
As they got out of the elevator at the main lobby, they noticed two men seated in the waiting area. Sofi immediately recognized Dr. Samarrai from his website photo. They approached.
“Dr. Samarrai? Hello, my name is Sofi Watt, I am an investigator with the Economic Crime Command.”
“And I’m Joe Hawkins, Sam’s brother.”
Samarrai looked Joe over, taking in the resemblance.
“We have been trying to contact Sam. Is he OK?”
“You haven’t heard? My brother was murdered, Dr. Samarrai.”
Samarrai dropped his hands to his sides.
“Murdered … This is a tragedy.”
Sofi folded her arms.
“We understand one of Sam’s colleagues and one of your colleagues were killed in a bombing incident recently. We believe Sam’s murder is somehow linked to their deaths.”
“Linked? In what possible way?”
As Qasim Qadi listened in from behind Samarrai, he twisted his head from side to side and then settled his gaze on the floor in front of him.
“We don’t know,” said Joe. “We’ve just started to piece the puzzle together. Sam sent me some of his notes and some financial documents relating to Passage. We suspect that the deaths are connected to Density’s activities. Sam thought that you could help.”
Joe glanced over to an open elevator and saw Claire Nelson getting out and walking toward them. As she gathered what was happening, she quickened her pace, her heels clicking on the lobby floor.
Samarrai held his hands clasped in front of him.
“I’ve known—I knew Sam for some time, but I’m not sure how I can help.”
Qadi stepped forward and faced Sofi.
“I do not see how DIA has anything to do with your investigation. We have been cooperating with the authorities in Dubai. With all due respect …”
Joe turned to Samarrai.
“Could we meet somewhere, to discuss things in more detail?”
Samarrai softened his expression. He turned his head down, then looked up to reply. Just at that moment, Claire Nelson approached from behind Joe and Sofi.
“Dr. Samarrai, are these people bothering you?”
“No.”
Claire stood directly in front of Sofi and Joe and faced Samarrai.
“They have just been in to see us. They have made unsubstantiated accusations, recklessly divulging confidential information they have no right to be privy to. I suggest you no longer speak to them and come with me at once. We have been assisting the police with their investigation into Sam’s death. Cadan will fill you in. He’s waiting for you upstairs.”
Qadi smiled timidly at Claire. She turned to the security guards now flanking her.
“Please escort Ms. Watt and Mr. Hawkins on their way out of the building.”
The guards stepped forward. Sofi turned to Joe, who kept his gaze on Samarrai. Claire turned and showed Samarrai and Qadi to the elevator. As they left the building, Joe looked back and for a fleeting moment caught Samarrai’s eye as the doors of the elevator closed.
Chapter 15
Claire Nelson led Samarrai and Qadi into Blake’s office and offered them the sofa. Blake and Samarrai remained silent as Claire made small talk with Qadi, her hands shaking just a little as she served the tea. Blake sat down, refusing to acknowledge the uncomfortable silence. Samarrai reached into his jacket pocket and removed a string of pearl prayer beads. He clutched one end, lowered his head and whispered.
“Allahu Akbar.” God is the greatest.
Qadi’s eyes darted back and forth between Samarrai and Blake, waiting for someone to speak. Samarrai looked up and smiled, indicating he was ready to begin the meeting. Blake raised his hands parallel in front of him, separating his fingers as if he were holding a cat’s cradle between them.
“I have to tell you that Joe Hawkins is being investigated by the local police for Sam’s death. You should also know that Density has been dragged into the investigation. Sam executed trades in connection with laundering gold for terrorists.”
“Sam? I can’t believe it.”
“The police think his brother may be involved. The brother certainly knows his way around. Foreign service. The theory is things went sour and he killed Sam.”
“What on earth was he doing here, at your offices?”
“That’s another story. We had intended to have him escorted out of the building before you were accosted by him. I apologize for that misfortune.”
Blake turned his focus from the arm of the chair to Samarrai and tilted his head.
“Shall we discuss business?”
“My first inclination was to make a connection between Sam’s disappearance and the bombing of the Al Kamar.”
“There may indeed be one. As you know, Ahmad Ghazali worked closely with Sam. The investigators are looking into the possibility that Ahmad discovered what Sam was doing. Abdullah, I know you were close to Sam. So was I. I think we should let the police do their job and see what conclusions are drawn. I am keen not to let any of this tarnish our reputation or hamper our ability to serve our clients’ interests in any way. Particularly DIA.”
Blake smiled at Samarrai as he bent his head down and removed the misbaha from his wrist and put it back in his pocket. Blake scratched his head and caught Claire’s eyes. She narrowed them and raised the corners of her mouth.
“Very good, Cadan. You’re right, let’s move on.”
“Uzbekistan. Do you think we are on course to finalize your proposed financing in time for our meeting in Dubai?”
Samarrai glanced at Qadi beside him.
“There are some details to hammer out—pricing, security, covenants, other legal matters—the usual. I understand it is progressing well.”
Qadi nodded in agreement.
“From my perspective, the main issue is having a common understanding amongst all parties that this deal makes sense for the people of Uzbekistan.”
“Of course.”
“Cadan, you and I must be on the same page about this in order for our financing to be made available. We can all make a lot of money from this deal, but I insist that we do it in a way in which social benefit outweighs social cost.”
“I can assure you, that is an objective that DIA and Density share.”
“Laith Khaldoun provided me with the same assurance.”
“Did he?”
Blake smiled and rose from his chair. He walked to the serving counter embedded in the wall behind and poured some water for himself.
Samarrai continued: “The terms for the extraction and processing of natural gas and gold must make market sense. And the Uzbek government must be incentivized to reinvest the proceeds in the local Uzbek economy, preferably in ways designed to decrease dependency on natural resources. There must be no leakage.”
Blake gazed through the glass of crystal-clear water to the lines on his palm beneath.
“Leakage?”
“I know what is reasonable and what is not reasonable. DIA will not provide financing unless the value paid for the resource rights purchased is clearly accountable to the people of Uzbekistan. Mandrake must understand this plainly. Do you understand?”
“Of course.”
“Wrapping an arms deal around this gives me great cause for concern.”
With one finger, Blake caressed the circular edge of his glass, his guests waiting for him to respond. Claire took a deep breath and smiled as Blake looked up at her.
“Abdullah, the arms deal is key. In order to encourage further investment, such as your own, political risk must be minimized. A strong government must be in place to fend off terrorist insurgency and lead this country forward.”
“I understand the need for reasonable expenditure on defense. But reasonable does not include undermining other social programs financed by the nation’s resources: healthcare, education. In my view, these go much farther to creating stability than does a weapons arsenal. The arrangements for the sale of weapons to Uzbekistan must make sense for a small country with a small GDP. If there is anything in this deal involving fleets of fighter jets or state-of-the-art missile defense systems, you can tell Baexter to look elsewhere for the financing.”
Blake returned to his seat. He paused for a moment and then turned to Samarrai and smiled.
“Baexter needs DIA on this deal. And it’s not just for the financing arrangements. Without your diplomacy, your negotiating skills, your position in the region, this deal would not be possible. This is crystal clear to Baexter and Mandrake.”
“We must all be working from the same script. No one can be offside.”
“You have my assurance on this, Abdullah. I’ll put our entire relationship on the line.”
Blake paused and stared deep into Samarrai’s eyes. Samarrai held his gaze, then nodded and smiled.
“And your security company, Serbon. Will they be on board to provide necessary security arrangements at our meeting, and in Uzbekistan, should things go forward?”
“We would be delighted. Serbon will work with their US counterparts. I believe Raze is the name.”
“Government officials will be in attendance.”
“Serbon and Raze are approved by both the UK and US government.”
“Very good. Then perhaps we can now discuss our commitment to your next fund.”
Blake smiled.
“I thought you would never ask. We’re hoping to launch just after our meeting in Dubai.”
“We see no reason not to increase our participation in Passage II—to an amount sizably larger than Passage I. We are thinking in the range of $3-400 million.”
Samarrai patted his knees with his palms.
“In your view, Cadan, will this meaningfully enhance our relationship with Density?”
“$400 million would be more meaningful.”
Blake grinned and offered Samarrai more tea.
“I believe our relationship is prospering.”
*
Blake sat in his desk chair, facing the window, watching the rain. His eyes darkened with the gray tones of the clouds in the sky. The only sign of the high winds blowing was the pattern of rain as it hit the glass. Lightning struck diagonally to his left, but no sound of thunder penetrated the window. He remained unmoved, expressionless. A voice came from a speaker phone on his desk.
“This Hawkins mess is a serious distraction.”
“I’ll do what I deem necessary to clean up my own affairs.”
His voice filled his empty office.
“There are checks and balances to keep in mind. I have influences in some spots in the system, but I’m not a magician.”
Blake’s right eye twitched.
“With names like Baexter and Mandrake behind you, you underestimate your own abilities.”
He focused on the drops of water sliding down the glass.
“DIA has been in.”
“And where do we stand?”
“Samarrai is insisting on some kind of public-interest dimension to the deal, one that doesn’t quite fit with the Baexter and Mandrake view on foreign policy.”
“Mandrake and Baexter aren’t setting their sights on Uzbekistan for some casual business. As we both know, it’s a shit-hole. And you only go into a shit-hole if you’re reasonably certain there’s treasure buried there.”
“Harold, sometimes you do bring such good color to an otherwise trite observation. Samarrai is overstepping his own shadow. He doesn’t see he’s just another cog in the wheel. He should spend some time with you.”
“You know where we need to get to.”
“I’ll go over Samarrai’s head if I have to.”
“How high is your influence?”
“The prince has an overriding sense of what’s commercial.”
Blake pressed the red button on the speakerphone. He returned his focus to the storm outside, head tilted, a smile frozen on his face. Feeling the need to blink, he intensified his gaze until the need vanished. Laith Khaldoun provided me with the same assurance. Blake formed a steeple with his hands. Sometimes it was baffling how similar their thinking was.
*
Claire Nelson entered Blake’s office, poured herself a gin and tonic from the bar and reclined on the sofa. Black evening dress, freshened-up mascara and lipstick. Cadan acknowledged her presence and sat in the chair next to the coffee table.
“What time are our reservations?”
Blake stared at the screen of the tablet in his hands. His eyes darted up and down as he scrolled down.
“Reservations?”
“Dinner tonight.”
“Sorry, no recollection.”
“Cadan, we had this planned. Dinner, then on to yours. I’ve made arrangements at home. My husband thinks I’m on business.”
“Yes, well, I’m going to have to take a rain check.”
“Take a rain check?”
“The deal is, business comes first, and after that there is nothing etched in stone in terms of where you fit in.”
Claire put her glass down and approached Blake.
“I know the pecking order, Cadan. But I need a little more than that. I’m giving up a lot for you.”
She stood before him, her blonde her hanging down in waves and curls, the outline of her breasts shadowed by the contours of the fitted black velvet of her dress. He glanced up at her and caught a shimmering of her dark-blue eyes, outlined in black. Unmoved, he returned his attention to the screen on his lap.
“You have your priorities and I have mine. Dinner’s out. I may meet you later. Not sure what time.”
“Are you sure I can’t persuade a little more than that out of you?”
She straddled him on the chair, her three-inch black heels pointing up in the air behind her.
“I need a night out with you, Cadan.”
He turned his head the other way. She looked at him from several angles, trying to find a way in.
“You know I’d do anything for you.”
“Yes.”
“I’ll make it worth your while to meet me at the suite. Like I always do.”
She slipped her hand into his trousers. His mouth downturned, he set his focus on the glass on the table. His hand clutched the arm of the chair as he responded to her touch. He pushed her away, stood, and walked over to his desk.
The color drained from her face. She moved as if about to speak, but stopped herself, staring at him as he pretended to work at his desk. Then at last, she picked up her handbag, walked quietly to the door and left without another word.
Chapter 16
Sofi and Joe walked briskly along the south bank of the Thames, eastward from London Bridge, the biting wind blowing the rain into their faces. She turned to him, shaking her head, hair wet, water running down her cheeks.
“That was aggressive.”
He kept walking, staring straight ahead.
“Those people killed my brother.”
“All of them?”
“Yes, all of them.”
Sofi struggled to keep up.
