The Marketmaker

9

I received quite a welcome when I arrived at the office late on Friday morning. Dave, Miguel, Pedro, Charlotte, people whom I hardly knew, all came up to ask how I was. Although I had been at Dekker less than two weeks, and had spent barely three days in the office itself, they treated me as one of their own. I had to admit, it was a good feeling.

The plane had landed at lunch-time the previous day and, unlike Isabel and Ricardo who had gone straight into work, I had returned to my flat. I saw my GP first thing the next morning. She was impressed with the Brazilian doctor’s work, changed my dressing and told me to take a week off work. There wasn’t a chance of that, but in deference to her I left my bike at home and took the tube and the Docklands Light Railway into Canary Wharf. I hated it, and vowed to cycle in on Monday, however much my chest hurt.

I was disappointed to see that the desk next to me was empty. Isabel was out somewhere.

But Jamie was in the office and it was good to see him.

‘What a trip! Are you OK? Where did you get stabbed? Can I look?’

‘No, you can’t!’ I said. ‘I just got it strapped up this morning and I’m buggered if I’m going to take it all off for you.’

‘OK.’ Jamie feigned disappointment. ‘What happened?’

He, of course, had none of the reticence of the others about asking me that question, and I didn’t mind answering him.

‘Jesus!’ He shook his head. ‘One inch one way or the other and that would have been that.’

‘I’m afraid so.’

‘So how are you feeling?’

‘I’ll be all right,’ I said. ‘Or, at least, the knife-wound will be. But did you hear what Ricardo did?’

‘About the favela deal? He killed it, didn’t he?’

‘Yes. I couldn’t believe it. After everything that Isabel had done. I saw one of them, you know. A favela. Someone’s got to do something about them.’

‘I know,’ said Jamie. ‘It must be tough for her. This game gets rough sometimes.’

‘And there’s something else.’ I reached down into my bottom drawer to dig out the fax to Martin Beldecos. It wasn’t there.

‘That’s funny,’ I said.

‘What is?’

‘I left a fax just here before I went to Brazil. I’m sure I did.’

Jamie made as if to get up and go.

I held up my hand. ‘No, wait. It’s important.’

Jamie watched me as I ransacked my desk. Not there. I thought about whether I might have put it somewhere else, or taken it home, or to Brazil.

No. It had definitely been in that bottom drawer. And now it was gone.

‘What was it?’ asked Jamie.

I stopped my search and sat up. ‘It was a fax from United Bank of Canada in the Bahamas to Martin Beldecos. It said that the man behind one of the accounts he had been investigating was linked to a suspected money-launderer.’

‘Really? Did it say which account?’

‘Something about International Trading and Transport (Panama). Or, at least, they were the company that had paid the money into a numbered account at Dekker Trust in the Caymans.’

‘That makes sense,’ Jamie said. ‘It would have been very difficult to trace.’ He appeared thoughtful.

‘What exactly is money-laundering?’ I asked.

‘It’s the washing of dirty money,’ replied Jamie. ‘The money might come from drugs, or smuggling, or organized crime, but it’s mostly drugs related. It’s often easier for the police to trace the cash rather than the drugs, so criminals have become very sophisticated at hiding the source of the money and then investing it anonymously. They usually use shell companies in offshore jurisdictions.’

‘Like the Cayman Islands?’

‘Like the Cayman Islands. Or Panama, or Gibraltar, sometimes even the Channel Islands or Switzerland. There are dozens of possibilities. Some of the money-trails get very complicated.’

‘I see,’ I said. ‘And Martin Beldecos discovered one of these money-trails.’

‘Perhaps.’

‘So what do you think?’

‘About what?’

‘What should I have done with the fax? Which has now disappeared, by the way. Eduardo said if I received any more messages for Martin Beldecos I should give them to him personally. I’m just not sure about giving him this one.’

‘Why not?’

Jamie’s lack of concern unsettled me. Maybe I was imagining things. ‘Well, in case he already knows about it,’ I said uncertainly.

‘Hmm.’ Jamie was thinking. ‘I see what you mean. And, anyway, he’ll have a fit if you then tell him you’ve lost it.’

‘I haven’t lost it!’

‘Then where is it?’ asked Jamie.

‘Jamie, I promise you I haven’t lost it. Someone must have taken it while I was in Brazil.’

That shut him up. He thought for quite a while. Finally, he said, ‘If I were you I would forget all about it.’

‘Why?’

‘I fear you may be right. It wouldn’t surprise me if Eduardo has some money-laundering business going on the side. It’s common enough in our world. And the last thing he would want is for you to pop up and cause trouble for him. He would not be very happy.’

‘But what if he doesn’t have anything to do with it?’

‘Then it won’t do any harm to let things lie.’ Jamie saw the doubt in my eyes. ‘Look, millions of dollars of drug money is laundered through the banking system every day. There’s some in every bank everywhere. The only time there’s a problem is when a bank gets found out. It’s not like anyone’s being hurt or anything. It’s not even a fraud. No one’s losing money. Just let it drop. This is going to bring nothing but trouble if you talk to anyone about it.’

‘But I don’t want to cover anything up,’ I said doubtfully.

‘What are you covering up?’

‘The fax.’

‘What fax? You haven’t got a fax. If there was a fax, it wasn’t to you. Look, Nick, forget it. I’m going to.’ He stood up.

‘Jamie?’

He paused.

I hesitated before putting words to the thought that was forming in my mind. ‘Martin Beldecos suspected that there was money-laundering at Dekker. He was murdered in Caracas. Then I begin to suspect it, and I nearly get killed in Rio.’

As the words came out, I felt stupid. Paranoid. And Jamie’s scornful look made me feel worse. Then his face softened. ‘Nick. After what happened to you, it’s natural you’ll feel nervous. I’m sure they’ll understand if you don’t want to travel to South America for a bit. And who knows? Maybe there is some dirty money tucked away in a corner at Dekker somewhere. But don’t blow it out of proportion. Calm down and do your job. You’ll be OK.’

With that he walked off, leaving me feeling uncertain, embarrassed, and a little silly.