The market maker (32 page)

Jamie had always liked to follow the doctrine of whatever institution he was in. At seventeen, he had become the embodiment of the public-school virtues, and was rewarded by becoming head boy. At Oxford, he had led a successful university career in social and sporting terms, if not quite academically. At Gumey Kroheim, he had been able to don the mantle of the stuffy merchant banker whenever it was required by his colleagues or his customers. And now at Dekker he was keen to follow Ricardo's rules and do well by them. So far he seemed to be succeeding.

But Jamie was my friend, dammit! How could Ri-cardo take away my friend from me? Surely our loyalty to each other stretched back further, ran deeper?

In which case, why had I gone behind Jamie's back to sell Dekker to Bloomfield Weiss? I was beginning to regret that. Now it looked as if that decision was going to lose me my best friend.

The following evening, Luis called me.

"Luis! How are you?"

"I don't know, Nick. I have news."

"What is it?"

"Isabel is still alive."

My heart leaped. I felt a rush of elation, one tempered immediately by fear. This was too good to be true.

"Where is she? With you?"

''No, Nick/' said Luis. I knew from his tone what was coming next. "I heard from Zico. He says they still have her."

Disappointment. And then fear again. "Have you proof of life?"

"Yes, I have. After our previous experience, I didn't want to contact you until I was sure she was reaUy alive."

"What happened? Why didn't they come back with proof of life before?"

"I don't know. Zico said that they gave up negotiations earlier because of the police raid. But it doesn't quite make sense to me."

It didn't to me either. But Isabel was alive! "So, how much do they want this time?"

"That's the interesting thing, Nick. They don't want money."

"Then what do they want?"

"Zico said he wants you to call off the takeover of Dekker Ward."

I was stunned. How the hell did Zico know about the Dekker takeover? And what did he care?

"Nick? Are you there?"

"Yes, I am," I said. "It's just quite a lot to take in at once. But it's so good to know Isabel's aUve! Now we just have to work out how to get her home."

"What's this Dekker Ward takeover?" Luis asked.

I took a deep breath and explained. Isabel's safety was far more important than any duty of confidence I owed to Bloomfield Weiss.

Luis, of course, foUowed everything. "But why do the kidnappers care about Dekker?"

I thought aloud. "I don't know. The one person I know who would be most concerned about Dekker being taken over is Ricardo."

"So does that mean that he's behind Isabel's kidnap?"

"I suppose so. Either him or his brother, Eduardo. It sounds more like something Eduardo would do/'

''Filho da putal" Luis muttered. "By the way, he said something else." Luis's voice was strained.

"Yes?"

"If we talk to the police, he will send us Isabel's head."

"You mean..." My stomach turned. "Oh, God."

"I spoke to Nelson. In fact, he's here now."

"Good." I was glad that Nelson's calming presence was close at hand. "What does he say?"

"He doesn't think we should tell the Rio police after what happened last time. He thinks there's a chance the kidnappers were tipped off by one of them."

"That makes sense to me. What about going to the police in Britain? Ask him about that."

I held for a while while Luis discussed Ricardo and Eduardo's likely involvement with the kidnappers with Nelson.

"Nelson thinks it's risky. He says this threat is different from the usual bluster in kidnappings. Especially if they know we can link the kidnapping to an individual. If Ricardo, or Eduardo, or whoever it is, gets a hint of police involvement, then the kidnappers will carry out their threat. But maybe you can trust the British police not to intervene?"

I didn't have any idea what the British police would do. "Let's leave them out of it, then," I said.

"Good." There was relief in Luis's voice.

"So Zico wants me to call off Bloomfield Weiss?"

"Can you?" Luis's voice was tentative, full of fear and hope.

"I don't know. How long have I got? "

"One week. Wednesday at midnight, Brazilian time/'

That was interesting. Bloomfield Weiss was due to put in their offer next Wednesday.

"And if I don't?"

Luis whispered, "They kill her."

"And if I do, do they let her go?"

"They say they will. But Nelson thinks they might hold out for a cash ransom as well. If they do, Tm happy to pay it."

I thought it over. "I suppose if Eduardo is behind it, he won't need the money. But he might want to keep her to stop us going to the police after she's released."

"Maybe you're right. But unless you call Bloomfield Weiss off, I think they will carry out their threat."

That, at any rate, was clear.

"OK, Luis. I'll do what I can."

I put the phone down, and thought over what Luis had said. Could Ricardo or Eduardo be behind Isabel's kidnapping? Ricardo would go to almost any lengths to save Dekker. But would he go as far as kidnapping Isabel, his former lover? That I wasn't sure of. But I remembered Eduardo's threats to me and shivered. It would be no problem for him.

All that made sense now. But why had they seized Isabel in the first place? There didn't seem an obvious answer to that one.

I had no time to think about that now. I'd have to call Stahl back. What the hell would I say to him? I couldn't order him to call the deal off. I racked my brains trying to think of a financial excuse. There wasn't one. I would have to tell him the truth, and trust to his humanity.

Bloomfield Weiss was renowned as one of the most inhumane investment banks on Wall Street.

I called him. Got past his secretary, told Preston Mor-

ris this was urgent information on the Dekker deal, and within two minutes was talking to Sidney Stahl himself.

" Whaddya got, Nick? I'm in a meeting/'

I took a deep breath. "I'd like you to call off the deal."

"Why?" The response was immediate, sharp.

"One of Dekker Ward's employees was kidnapped in Brazil last month. The kidnapper's have said that they will kill her unless we call off the takeover of Dekker Ward."

"What is this shit? Is this for real?"

"Yes, it is."

"I can't call off the deal now. Anyway, why should I? Dekker Ward's employees aren't my responsibility. If they want to kill their own people, I can't stop them. This makes no sense."

"This woman means a lot to me, Sidney."

There was silence on the other end of the phone. For a moment my hopes rose. Maybe he was considering going along with my request.

But he wasn't. "I'ni sorry, Nick. You're an emotional guy and you've gotten yourself emotionally involved in this one. Look, I'm grateful you brought me the transaction, and it's a great deal. But this is business. This could be the most important deal in Bloomfield Weiss's history. I can't stop it now. It's time for you to step back, Nick. Tell 'em you've spoken to me and there's nothing I can do."

"But she'll die!"

"This thing's too big to stop now. I'm sorry. Bye, Nick."

The phone went dead.

Jesus! I couldn't believe it. In the last few hours I had discovered that Isabel was alive, only to realize that there was nothing I could do to help her. I imagined her

shut away in a room somewhere in Rio. God knows what she looked like now after a month in captivity.

I sat there, my head in my hands.

I thought about going to the police. They might arrest Eduardo, and the more I thought about it the more I was sure it was Eduardo, not Ricardo, who had ordered the kidnapping. But although it was clear to me that he was involved, there was no proof whatsoever. Even if the police arrested him, he would no doubt hire a top-class lawyer who would point out the lack of evidence.

I dialed Luis. It took several attempts to get through Rio's overloaded exchange, but finally I heard the ringing tone. Luis picked up the phone immediately.

''Nick?'" His voice was breathless, full of hope.

I shattered it. "Stahl won't change his mind. Bloom-field Weiss is going ahead with the deal."

Luis snapped. ''No!" His voice cracked. There was silence as he pulled himself together. "Couldn't you persuade him? Does the man have no feelings? Perhaps I should talk to him."

"There's no point, Luis. He's not going to change his mind."

"I'll call him," said Luis. "I'll tell him."

So I let him go and try his luck with Stahl, knowing there was no chance it would work.

I spoke to Luis the next day. I wasn't surprised to hear that he had had no luck. Our last hope would be if he could persuade the kidnappers that there was no point in killing Isabel; that they should accept money instead. Luis was optimistic, I wasn't. Eduardo didn't need money. Eduardo hated me. He probably hated Isabel too.

I couldn't just stew in my flat doing nothing, waiting

for Luis to try to persuade Zico to let Isabel live. Anyway, it wasn't Zico who needed persuading, it was Eduardo.

That was it! I couldn't talk to Eduardo, but I might just get somewhere with Ricardo. I picked up the phone and dialed his number.

"Dekker."

It was strange to hear that voice again. Crisp and in control.

"It's Nick EUiot."

Silence for a moment. Then, "Yes, Nick, what can I do for you?" The voice was cold but polite.

"I want to talk to you."

"I'm Ustening."

"No, not on the phone. In person. I'll meet you on one of the benches outside Comey and Barrow." I looked at my watch. It was a quarter to two. "At three o'clock."

I sat next to him. It was a warm day. He was jacketless, with his shirt cuffs rolled up. He was staring at the rusty old boat that was permanently moored in the dock. The odd burst of laughter came from the open doors of Comey and Barrow, where determined lunch-time drinkers lingered on into the afternoon. Above and behind us rose the Canary Wharf Tower itself, proud and white in the afternoon sunlight.

"What do you want? I'm busy," Ricardo said, without looking at me.

"Isabel's still alive." I watched him closely as I said this. I thought I saw something flicker in him, a slight widening of his eyes, a stiffening of his posture, but then it was gone. He sat there impassively, staring ahead. "But then you know that, don't you?"

''I didn't know that/' he answered. "I'm glad to hear it."

"And you also know that Bloomfield Weiss is in discussions with Lord Kerton about taking over Dekker Ward."

This time Ricardo said nothing.

I continued. "Isabel's father has received a message from the kidnappers that imless Bloomfield Weiss calls off their bid by next Wednesday, she will die."

Still no response. I pressed on regardless.

"I want you, and Eduardo, to know that I've spoken to Sidney Stahl, to ask him to stop the takeover. He didn't listen to me." I could feel the desperation welling up inside me. "Ricardo, I can't stop this takeover! You have to believe me!"

He turned to face me. The cool blue eyes looked me up and down, judging me.

At last he spoke. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Because you organized the kidnapping!" I said. "Or if you didn't, Eduardo did, which amounts to the same thing. And I don't want you to kill her!" I was pleading now, begging. But I didn't know what else to do.

Ricardo looked right through me, his face stone cold. "You have betrayed me. You are trying to sell my company to my biggest rival. And now you come up with some cock-and-bull story about how I arranged the kidnap of one of my own people. I want Isabel to live as much as you do. More, probably. I know nothing about the kidnap, Nick. So I can't help you. Now, I must get back to work."

He stood up and walked quickly back across the square toward the Tower.

"Well, at least talk to Eduardo about it," I said, walking beside him. He ignored me. "Eduardo's got to know what's going on. Talk to him!"

"Leave me alone, Nick/' Ricardo said, glancing at me coldly.

I stopped and watched him as he reached the varnished entrance to the Tower complex.

"Ricardo!" I shouted. "You can't let her die! You can't!"

My voice echoed off the squat blocks of offices around me as he disappeared inside the huge building.

I cycled back to the flat slowly, my mind wrestling with my meeting with Ricardo. He had been convincing about his ignorance of Isabel's kidnap. But then Ricardo was convincing. Always. There was a chance that Eduardo had arranged the kidnap without Ricardo's knowledge. Perhaps Ricardo would talk to him now. Persuade him not to have Isabel killed. Perhaps tell him to release her!

I was clutching at straws.

I pedaled past my flat and chained my bike to the railings at the foot of Primrose Hill. I stumped up the hill with its neat footpaths and stunted black lampposts. It was a cool day for June, and a breeze bit into my skin. Just below the brow of the hill, I sat down and looked over London. In front of me was the extraordinary polyhedron that was the aviary at London zoo, and beyond that St. Paul's and the skyscrapers of the City. Even farther away, barely visible through the new leaves of the trees on the hill, was Canary Wharf.

I had to work out how to find Isabel by next Wednesday.

Whoever had organized Isabel's kidnap wanted Dekker to remain independent. Ricardo and Eduardo were the two people most likely to want Dekker to remain independent. Yet Ricardo refused to admit any

knowledge of the kidnapping, and it would be in\pos-sible to tie them in to it from here.

But what about the other end? What about Brazil? What about Rio? Now we were getting somewhere.

The kidnappers were a Rio gang. I had been attacked by a gang in Rio, even if it was only a gang of kids. Dave had guessed that this was linked to Martin Beldecos's death in Caracas, and money laundering at Dekker. Money laundering that was organized by Francisco Aragao, Ricardo's brother-in-law.

But why would Francisco Aragao want to kidnap Isabel?