Bacchus and Sanderson (Deceased) (29 page)

“Yes, you said, three tonnes. A fair bit, but father brought in a similar amount for the city snorters in the late eighties. Every month.”

“Six tonnes a month.”

Alexander’s mouth fell open and his florid complexion paled as he considered the logistical problems, the risks and the rewards.

“You have a market for that amount? The price will plummet, supply and demand you know.”

“Of course I know. We have assumed the mantle of European distributor. If the Serbians, Russians and Italians want product, they now have to buy from me. Pablo’s emissaries will have apprised them of the new arrangements by now and I expect we will be hosting these gentlemen next week to discuss the new pricing structure.”

Alexander nodded, a look combining greed and fear on his face and said,

“You’ve got my numbered account in Lichtenstein I assume?”

Felicities smiled and shook her head,

“Now grandfather is gone you need to start earning your take. In recognition of your new responsibilities, you will receive ten million pounds,” she paused for effect, watching for the reaction his greed would provoke.

“A month.”

The sound of shattering cut crystal as the Swarovski brandy goblet slipped from Alexander’s hand to the marble floor reverberated around the high ceilings of his grace and favour apartment in Admiralty House. He whispered,

“Ten million pounds a month. Who will I have to kill?”

“Ruin, not kill, ruin. Then you will take on their mantle. Your crowning glory. The role we have been grooming you for since grandfather bought your seat for you in the early sixties.”

“Prime minister?”

Felicity gave a derisory laugh,

“No, the role grandfather had in mind for you was Home Secretary. Head of the police, border agency, customs and excise, you will be invaluable in keeping product flowing into the UK. He was hoping to have lived to direct you in your new role, but no one could have realised it was going to take quite this long. You, Uncle Alexander are going to allow the Home Secretary to smooth the way for our next shipment and then he will be discovered to be a heavy cocaine user. You will plant the cocaine in his office, his home, his car and on his person. You will then alert the authorities to this shocking discovery. The Home Secretary will resign and you will be asked to step into his position.” She looked at the excitement on his face at the prospect of the money and the power. Alexander was extremely malleable. If you kept his bank account full and massaged his ego periodically, his influence was there for the taking.

“One last item I require.”

“Key’s to the tower of London?” Felicity gave a short insincere laugh.

“No, nothing so grandiose. A house of commons all area pass, highest security clearance.” Alexander looked at her, incomprehension on his face.

“Sure, Debbie can issue one for you tomorrow.” Felicity shook her head.

“No, I need it to be issued by the Home Secretaries office. Issue it in the name of Ben Sanderson. Effective immediately.”

***

              William stared at his brother trying to work out what he was thinking, feeling as the recording of Alexander’s voice played for the fifth time.

“Listen to this part again” Ben said, “Listen and tell me what you hear. “ He tapped the play icon on the iPhone and forwarded the conversation to the point he was looking for.

“Okay now. ‘No, just the players. The ones who father respected.’”

William looked at the faces of Annabel and Jemima and then at Ben.

“I don’t think we understand what you are trying to tell us. I think we need elaboration.” William paused for a moment of thought before saying,

“Oh, hold on a minute, let me think. Is the key to understanding, identifying the people who were there?”

Interrupting Annabel said, “This happened forty odd years ago. Knowing who was present is going to be quite difficult unless we can find someone else who was present and ask them.”

“No.” Ben said, “The Cortez clan where a bigger draw then than they are today.”

Looking at Jemima for confirmation, he continued, “Now the Cortez’s eschew publicity of any kind, apart from Alexander and that’s only allowed in his professional life.”

Jemima nodded confirmation, “Felicity has employed a public relations firm to ensure the family is not mentioned in the press. I’m not sure of the details, but I think she offered them an annual fee of two hundred thousand pounds. This reduces by ten thousand pounds each time there is a mention of a Cortez in the press, online, or anywhere. It works well. I know that in the last three years they have kept one hundred per cent of their fee and the Cortez’s have preserved their anonymity.”

              Ben took over from Jemima continuing with his story.

“I spent an interesting day in the British Newspaper Archive at the British Museum. They are digitising their entire collection, but to begin with they are working with the newspapers prior to nineteen hundred. So I went in person. I found a reference to Alexande
r’
s political launch party in February nineteen seventy-three in three newspapers and two periodicals. The most interesting for us is the Illustrated London News. Their archive is now online.”

Ben opened his MacBook Pro and logged onto the Illustrated London News’s archive pulling up his saved searches. Turning the screen to show the pictures to everyone, he scrolled through twenty-five different photographs of the event.

“I have identified the Cortez’s who were present that night and as Alexander said it was everyone apart from Jemima’s father James. So from left to right we have a very young, eighteen years old I believe, Alexander. Next to him and in the middle of the shot is his father Charles and beside Charles is his other son Frederick Cortez, now Aldhelm. William and Annabel’s bishop. All the family accounted for. Important family that is. Wives wouldn’t have been invited to this type of event, left at home to breed. If you look closely you can see a man at the bar behind them, Jonas Sanderson. So when this photo was taken he was still alive. Someone at that event killed him. They laced his chilli with a large dose of cocaine and some time after eating it he had a huge heart attack and died.”

***

              William scratched Wooster’s ears as they lay on the sofa. Ben and Jemima had left soon after they had finished discussing the recording and Annabel had an early meeting to attend at the boy’s school, so had opted to go home to ensure she got a good night’s sleep. He regretted agreeing to Annabel staying in her own home for the night, he needed someone to help him make sense of Ben’s revelations.

              Addressing Wooster he asked,

“Which Cortez is it? Was it a Cortez or just a paid body? The chef? A waiter? Does it matter who actually poisoned his food, Charles Cortez ordered it to be done.” Looking down at the sleeping Labrador, William smiled and said,

”I’m sorry Wooster, as a sounding board you are lacking. I need to speak to Ernest.”

              William stood up, took a large swallow of Bells whiskey and walked to the mirror in the hallway. Concentrating, he visualised Ernest and Juanita and then he spoke to them asking that they come to him.

Staring at the mirror, William waited for his face to morph into either Ernest's or Juanita’s. This time Ernest stared back at him an eyebrow raised in question.

“Good evening Ernest.” William said, wondering if he should say thank you for coming. Instead he said,

“Ben’s bright. Bright and imaginative. Can I trust his reasoning?”

The voice of Juanita came into his head and said,

“Why William. What has happened?”

“Jemima has proven that Jonas was killed by the Cortez’s. A bi-product of this proof was that she discovered that the cocaine used to kill him and Ernest was Cortez cocaine.  In her recorded telephone conversation with her Uncle, he let slip that the cocaine or ‘Cortez marching powder’ was there families. Ben acquired archive photographs of the event showing various shots of the Cortez family at play. It shows Charles, Alexander and Freddie together at Alexander’s launch party. Jonas’s killer was at the launch, but who? A family member? A chef? A waiter?”

“Difficult.” Ernest said hesitating before he continued. “James was never involved, Alexander was being groomed and Charles needed to keep his veneer of respectability intact. If this person was a Cortez it only leaves your bishop.  A chef or waiter paid by Charles would be more logical. No chance of any mud sticking to the family if it was ever discovered that Jonas’s death was anything other than natural causes.”

              Juanita’s voice overrode Ernest’s in William’s head, interrupting his self-congratulation.

“Mierda! We have a problem. I told Ernest that I thought we might have company. I’d had a feeling that there were more people in this part of limbo than there should be. Now I’m sure. While you talked I moved out into the communal areas of limbo. Charles Cortez and a woman called Helena who is misrepresenting herself as a guide is trying to monitor what we are doing. She is from downstairs and very dangerous. She isn’t just here with Charles Cortez to stop you completing your unfinished business. She needs Charles to influence someone on earth to do something she can’t do for herself.”

***

“Hola. Who’s speaking?”

“¿Cómo estás? My name is Jemima Cortez and I wish to speak to my cousin Pablo. Now.”

Jemima heard the sound of the receiver being placed onto a hard surface and in the background rapid Spanish being spoken. After a moment she heard another voice,

“Si, este es Pablo. What do you want Ms Cortez?”

Jemima replied in flawless Spanish,

“I was given your number and asked to contact you by my sister Felicity”

“Felicity? Who is Felicity?” The words were dismissive, as she had expected they would be.

“Felicity Cortez who you spoke to two days ago with regard to delivery. Felicity doubled her requirement and asked you to ensure delivery within two weeks. I will be handling receipt of her requirements. Do I need to be less diplomatic? I will if necessary. This telephone I am using will be destroyed within two minutes of the end of this conversation as I assume will yours. So can you recollect my sister now?”

              The silence was total as if the call had been disconnect. After a long moment, Pablo said,

“I do not know who you are or what you hope to achieve by these theatricals, please do not call me again.”

Before he had chance to disconnect her call Jemima said,

“Can you afford to lose your single biggest customer, now we are providing product to Europe. I don’t imagine you need angry conversations with our Serbian, Russian and Italian customers. They’re not nice people.”

Raising her voice as she had witnessed with her sister she continued,

“I am a Cortez. Stop fucking around. Entender?”

The voice sounded amused when it asked,

“So Jemima, another feisty Cortez woman eh? What do you want to know?”

Sarah opened the door to a smiling Jemima at twelve noon.

“Punctual as ever.” she said grinning at her cousin. They hugged and Sarah led the way into the kitchen where she was preparing the lunch they would all have at twelve thirty.

“Freddie has always said to me ‘Better never than late’ George Bernard Shaw, I think.” Sarah laughed and replied,

“If you want to irritate daddy, quote Evelyn Waugh back at him.” Jemima raised an eyebrow in question.

“Punctuality is a virtue of the bored.”

“No, my dear ‘Punctuality is the politeness of kings’ Louis XVIII.” Freddie came into the kitchen smiling. He embraced Jemima and said,

“Ignore my daughters irreverence.” Despite herself, Jemima smiled, she had always liked Freddie. Hugging him back, she was surprised to feel taut muscle rather than the undisciplined fat she had been expecting. Freddie was in much better shape than he appeared.

Sarah excused herself when the doorbell rang leaving Freddie and Jemima alone in the kitchen. Freddie looked thoughtful for a moment and then said,

“Your sister seems to have lost her perspective. I am sure you are aware of her fascination with the brother’s Sanderson and William Bacchus. Her continued paranoia over what should now be seen as ancient history is beginning to worry me. What are your thoughts?”

Jemima hadn’t been expecting that. She had assumed that lunch was going to be an opportunity to catch up with Freddie, who she hadn’t seen for months. Gossip with Sarah and then home for an evening with Ben.

“I’m not the best person to ask about anything concerning my sister at the moment. Also unless I’m mistaken she’ll be walking through that door in, five, four, three, two …”

“Freddie, Jemima how nice to see you both. I was just telling Sarah how Jemima insisted I join you for lunch, isn’t that so Jemima?”

Wearing a strained smile, she looked at Felicity, nodded and said,

“I would rather have bowel surgery performed with a sharpened stick, without the benefit of anaesthetic than lunch with Felicity.” Turning away from Felicity to look at Freddie she added, giving him a cryptic look and said,