The Financial Terrorist Read online

  Charles put an arm round Jacqui’s shoulders, “We’ve never been here on a Sunday. It’s strange with nobody around.”

  “You know you’re quite sexy when you become authoritarian. It actually turns me on to see everyone hanging on to your every word. I’ve always loved power.”

  Charles put his arms around her waist. She was dressed in a dark short skirt and a white blouse. She looked great. He could smell her fragrance. He could taste her lips as he kissed her lightly.

  He had taken off his jacket before the meeting. He pulled her closer.

  “Uh, uh,” she said. “Not here. We could be interrupted.”

  “No, we won’t be.” He moved his hands up her back, “There’s only security around. They have strict instructions to keep clear of this floor until I tell them otherwise.”

  She laughed, “Did you plan this? I mean it’s a bit crazy making love in the boardroom. I bet nobody else has. Shouldn’t we turn the pictures around? It looks as if those old bores are watching.”

  “Those old bores would turn in their graves if they thought that someone was going to have nookie in their precious bank. There would be a series of fits if they knew it was in the boardroom.”

  “You’re right. And you were good. I have an idea.”

  Charles waited. She moistened her lips and pulled herself away from him, kicking off her shoes at the same time. The next thing he knew, she had jumped onto one of the chairs and was sitting back on the long polished board table.

  “Hey it’s slippery,” she called as she propelled herself along half its length. Her skirt rode up to her hips, revealing long shapely legs in sheer tights. She giggled as she rolled over and stretched her arms to either side of the table, hugging it and groaning, “I rather like the smell of the polish and the feel of the wood you know.”

  Charles went over to her. The boardroom had fine views of the City and the River. On one side it was overlooked by the sparkling great dome of St Paul’s Church and on the other by the more pedestrian architecture of the Bank of England. God and Mammon must have been wondering what two people could plan to do on a twenty foot long shining oak table in a smart office block in the City. They both gave the impression of looking on through the eyes of the gargoyles and the other statues that stood guard on their roofs.

  He helped her down from the table.

  “We mustn’t scratch it. The Honourable James is paranoid about its perfect sheen. He even took me to task for wearing sharp cufflinks the other day.”

  She giggled. Then a long passionate kiss was followed by a series of gasps and groans. Her hands moved round from his back and started to undress him.

  “This gives those old men a reason to look angry at least,” laughed Jacqui, glancing up at the sombre portraits.

  He glanced up. He could take in the view of the Church over her shoulder. She could see the Bank of England over his.

  Then they forgot about the Bank, the Church and the angry faces on the wall as they clung closer together. Suddenly he was startled, “Someone’s around. Who in hell can it be? It can’t be security. They’re too good. The two on duty today are your father’s old people. I had to have people who would keep quiet about the meeting.”

  Despite the sudden interruption to their lovemaking, Jacqui also was alert. She knew that you didn’t fool around when there was danger. Still half undressed, Charles went over to the monitors. They showed the corridor outside the boardroom. He bounded quietly to the door at that side and swiftly turned the key in the lock. It shut with a click that he thought would have alerted anyone within earshot. But when he returned to the monitor, the two men were still approaching as if they were unaware of the disturbance they had caused.

  Jacqui in the meantime had gathered up their clothes from the floor. She stood there waiting for Charles to react. The door handle turned noisily. Then they heard voices.

  “They must have locked it. We’ll have to go round the other side. If that’s locked too, we’ll just have to force the door. We need the tape that Wendy left there. It will be hard for her to get it tomorrow. It was dangerous enough setting it up there last week in the first place.”

  Jacqui signalled Charles to the other door and he quickly checked it was unlocked. It was opposite his office and now he headed there. Jacqui followed him. They left the door half open to be able to have sight of the boardroom. Without a word, they started getting dressed again.

  “I’ve left my bra behind. It’s by the table. I wonder what they’ll make of that.”

  “It may give us time and distract them.”

  Charles moved over to his desk and removed the gun from its usual hiding place. He opened the drawer and took the spare one from the false bottom. He handed that to Jacqui.

  “Heavier than you usually use. I’ll lead. You can cover.”

  Charles moved over to get sight of the monitors and watched the corridor outside. He gazed at the two men, not recognising them. He looked at Jacqui. She shook her head. They were unfamiliar to her as well.

  “They are not armed as far as I can see. That must mean they are local. Only a Brit would handle a job like this without a gun.”

  Charles nodded. She was right. He noted the name of Wendy. Who the hell was she? He knew no Wendy in the office. He needed to know who she was, if she had access to the boardroom, she could have access to other areas. As he had only called the meeting on Thursday, it meant she knew almost immediately. But how was that? He had to find out and get rid of her if necessary.

  He peered round his office door, which was still ajar. The two men had their backs to him and were gazing at the bra in astonishment. He signalled to Jacqui to keep quiet.

  Then a voice said, “One of the randy tarts they brought in has been at it. Jefferson mentioned one of them. He hates that little black haired job. He said she was an evil bitch.”

  The other laughed, “Well, he said Wendy’s been keeping her eye on her too. Mind you, she must have her hands full as she’s tracking the Rossis as well. It’s lucky her boss hasn’t got much of a job or she’d be working night and day.”

  “Come on. Let’s get the tape,” said the other. “I wish we could have used a bug but the old man said they might check the room for them. And tapes are at least invisible.”

  That at least explained the tape. They still did not know who Wendy was. She obviously worked at the bank and should be easy to trace. The two strangers moved over to the table. One ducked underneath it and produced a small recorder. He opened it and took out a tape. He slipped the tape in his pocket and then calmly walked over to a desk in the corner of the room. He opened a drawer and placed the recorder in it.

  Charles still did not move. He needed to know how they got in and out. He couldn’t let them out of the boardroom though and so he would have to get them to tell him. He needed the tape. He needed to know who they worked for. And he needed to know who Wendy was.

  They casually walked towards his office. Charles kicked the door open and said, “Freeze.”

  They looked at him in horror. They had obviously recognised him. He still did not know them.

  “I think you owe me an explanation. Why are you here?”

  They remained silent.

  “I am not sure if you know some of my methods. They may not be good for your health. Are you going to answer my question?”

  There was still no answer.

  Charles looked at them. They were both dressed in single-breasted office suits. They wore sober ties over white shirts. Their shoes had been well polished. Their hair was cut short. These were ex-policemen. They must be operating as private detectives. He walked into the room and told Jacqui to cover them. They gasped when they saw she also had a gun.

  “Don’t try anything funny. We’re good at this.” Charles doubted they would do anything. It was clear that they believed he would shoot. The sweat was beginning to leave a sheen on their foreheads, the pungent odour of fear was apparent as Charle
s moved closer.

  He walked to the taller one and motioned him to step away from his partner. He moved up to him and searched him quickly. There was no gun. He went to his jacket pockets and took out a wallet. There was nothing else. He moved to the table, still keeping him covered. He opened the wallet. There was cash, credit cards and a photo, but nothing else. He noticed one of the cards. It showed he worked for a detective agency. It hardly looked inspiring with an address in an unfashionable area, more one for electronic shops and the like than detective agencies.

  He walked back to him and searched him thoroughly. There was nothing else, just a bit of change in his pockets. He then smashed him over the head with the gun. The man’s knees buckled and he groaned as his hands went to his head. But there were to be no more blows.

  “That’s a warning. If that happens when you do what you’re told, imagine what happens if you don’t. Lie on the floor; spread your arms and legs. Stay like that until you’re told to move. And I mean stay like that.”

  Charles then turned to the second man. He was smaller than the first and more frightened. He had watched everything and was trembling with fear. After all, he was holding the tape.

  Charles searched him. Once again he took a wallet. He took a mobile phone. And he took the tape. Otherwise there was nothing. The wallet revealed little. He picked up the tape.

  “What’s this?”

  “It’s for my dictating machine at home. I did some work. It’s a report for clients. I am a private detective.”

  Jacqui moved towards him. Charles nodded. Her gun came in an arc, hitting him on the nose and cheek. It then swung back and slammed him from the other side. His face was bleeding badly. It looked as if his nose was broken.

  “I think you misunderstood the rules he made. I hit you softly. Don’t make him angry or you’ll really get hurt.” Charles followed through, “And when you get back home, you might find the family a bit upset. No kids like seeing their mother beaten up in front of them. They say it scars them for life.”

  The man glanced over at his wallet. He realised they knew his address. He saw they had seen the photo of his family. It was a nice family. But, if need be, he realised that Charles would have carried out his threat. He crumbled.

  “It’s a tape of your meeting. We came here to retrieve it.”

  “We knew that. If you want to get over this, you answer honestly three questions. First, how did you get past the guards?”

  “We came through the side door from the little alley. It was unlocked and the security camera there has been rigged. It will just show the empty room. I don’t know how it’s done.”

  Charles did. That was easy to rig. They would need to step up security. He carried on.

  “Who sent you?”

  “Jefferson.”

  “Who’s he?”

  “Head of Security at Associated.”

  Charles was surprised but did not show it, “How are you getting the tape to him?”

  “We’ll deliver it at midday. He’ll be waiting for us. He gives us the cash in return. He’ll pay five thousand pounds. That’s why we did it. It’s well paid.”

  “Where will he be?”

  He hesitated. Jacqui moved slightly. He shivered.

  “He’ll be by the Royal Exchange. That’s just opposite the Bank of England.”

  Charles glanced at the clock. It was twenty to twelve.

  “Who’s Wendy?”

  “I don’t know a Wendy who’s involved in this.”

  He did not even see Jacqui’s hand move that time, but the pain on his damaged face must have been excruciating. He sobbed in agony this time.

  “It’s a girl called Wendy. She’s Lord Dunkillin’s secretary.”

  Charles now knew who he meant. A sour faced blonde who had been in the bank for about fifteen years. He knew she worked for them but, beyond that, he had nothing to do with her. He hadn’t even recalled her name.

  “I’m going to call the police. You will be charged with breaking and entering. You put up a fight and tried to escape. You had a gun and I managed to get it from you. I’ll shoot Jacqui in the shoulder to make it look worse. I lost my temper and admit hitting you when you tried to kill my wife, but that’s not going to cause me any harm.”

  The smaller man looked really scared. “Look we’re freelancing. If this gets out, we’ll lose our licences and our jobs. Can’t you let us go? We’ll say nothing.”

  “You’ll talk. Who else knows you’re here?”

  “Nobody does. The family thinks I’m working. We don’t tell them what or where. They know better than to ask.”

  Charles guessed this was right. He walked over to the phone and called security, “One of you, get up here. We have a problem.”

  He then called Maria, “Where are you?”

  “I’m meeting a friend. I’m in Covent Garden.”

  “Come over here. We need you.” Then a thought struck him, “Do you know Jefferson at Associated?”

  “He’s their Head of Security. We tried to recruit him in the early days. But he’s straight, we failed.”

  “Would you recognise him?”

  Charles could hear that Maria was now in the street. She must be heading to her car.

  “You bet I would. I always remember people. He’s a big man with reddish hair.”

  “He’ll be by the Royal Exchange, opposite the Bank of England. Get rid of him. And I mean rid of him. He’ll be there till twelve. He’s waiting for some people.”

  She didn’t ask why, she just said, “OK. I’ll join you by ten past. “

  The security man came in. He looked shocked. “Tie these people up. Watch them. And make sure that there are no signs they have been here. Tell your pal downstairs to check the side door into the alley and reset the camera. It’s been rigged.”

  He nodded and was starting to tie up the men before they moved out. He had also drawn a gun from a leg holster. He could be trusted.

  Charles and Jacqui both walked out. “Let’s get to work and plug the leak. We need to find out more about Wendy, starting with where she lives.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  Maria drove down Fleet Street and onto Ludgate Hill. The area was quiet, even for a Sunday. She quickly parked in her office space and walked briskly through Cheapside and to the Bank of England.

  She was a trim figure in a body hugging miniskirt and a maxi coat. The coat was useful for it concealed her gun well. At the moment, though, she was leaving that well alone. All she gripped was a long stiletto. It was a sharp piece of strong, slim steel, silent, quick and lethal in the right hands.

  She noticed him immediately. He was a big man with carrot-red hair. He was dressed in a long winter coat, his hands thrust in the pockets. He stooped slightly. And then he decided to sit down on the steps of the Royal Exchange. Once it had been an impressive building and one of the commercial hearts of the area. These days its cavernous rooms were full of boutiques and bars, although these were closed on Sunday. It looked dead that gloomy and cold spring day. And Jefferson wasn’t going to improve on the sombre and funereal tone of this despondent symbol of past glories.

  He looked at his watch and turned towards the Bank of England. He frowned, not out of concern, but perhaps more out of annoyance that his contacts had not kept to time. He didn’t notice Maria as she eased herself behind him, swooping down and driving the knife into his heart in one quick movement. She did not need to check. She was already moving away as his head fell forward towards his lap. He remained there, hunched and immobile. He looked strange, but not strange enough. The few people around took no notice. Maria merely left and walked calmly towards the bank.

  Meanwhile, Jacqui had been going through the personnel files on Wendy. She established she was really named Wendy Dale. She had been with her boss for twelve years, was thirty-four and unmarried. She had an address in Kilburn, though she most likely pretended it was in the adjacent and more fashionable Swiss Cott
age.

  “What do we do about her?” asked Jacqui.

  “She has to go. Let’s wait for Maria and then we’ll decide how we go about it.”

  Jacqui nodded and noted the address. The file was returned, after she had wiped it clean of any fingerprints.

  They went back to the boardroom. The two detectives were waiting nervously. The guard watched them casually yet carefully. He knew his job.

  The one who had been hit by Jacqui whined, “Can we go? We’ll keep quiet. We can’t afford any trouble.”

  Charles ignored them, thought for a moment, then turned and left the room. Jacqui followed.

  “Has your father got a hit squad in London? We need to get rid of those two but I don’t want their bodies to be found. It would be too dangerous.”

  “He’d contract out in a place like this. He found the Brits too amateurish. He rated some individuals. But he didn’t feel this was a place for a real operation.”

  “How do I find a disposal team for the two in there?”

  “Why don’t we just dump them somewhere and organise a hit before they get far?”

  “What do you mean?”

  She smiled, “We could use the two security guards if needed. Look, we steal a car for you. In this area that’s quite easy. You and Maria take it. You change in to the usual garb, dark clothes and a cap. That gives you anonymity.

  “We can load the detectives into the car we steal in our car park. Put them in the trunk and let’s make sure there are traces of coke there so that it will stick to their clothes. There’s some in the office. Stephens uses it.

  “Get the guards to steal another car well away from here. Make a rendezvous with it. Drop the detectives off in a quiet area where nobody can see you getting them out of the car. You get away and then the others gun them down. As people appear, the guards move off and dump their car as soon as they can. They’ll do that. It’s a simple hit. They are quite good. And we’ll give them a bonus.”

  “OK, and, if people are there, they will witness a gangland killing. The traces of drugs will reinforce that view. The men will have been working according to their families, but their company will deny that. It will make it look all the more suspicious and play into our hands. The men will have been seen alive miles from here and so nobody will be looking here. We can dump our stolen car well away from the murder scene and so it is unlikely to be associated with the attack. That’s a good idea.”