Banshee Hunt (19 page)

“And what would that be?” Suddenly Brucknell was biting, and he looked nervous.

“Just that a certain Asian crime family thinks they're coming here to open a casino.”

“Crime family?” Brucknell paled then immediately rushed to defend himself. “The police are required to vet any and all applicants.”

“Yes, but the rumour says no. That certain arrangements were made. That the vetting process was nowhere near as rigorous as it should be. In fact it was almost like it was set up from the start to let them slip through.”

She was guessing of course. They didn't know. But it was a good guess. After all, how else would organised crime get the rights to build a new casino in New York as they suspected? And from the barely concealed look of horror on Brucknell's face, her guess was right on the money. Brucknell though said nothing, choosing instead to sit there, his eyes wide and staring, his mouth hanging open, looking as though he'd just swallowed a truckload of poison. So Yasmin carried on, driving it home.

“But Daddy said no. That that could never happen. He says that if there's going to be a new casino in New York, it'll be American owned and operated. Run by a company with deep roots in the country, and above all no shady silent partners with links to the international drug industry, money laundering and illegal gambling. He says that no politician would ever be so stupid as to risk that much jail time by getting in bed with an Asian crime syndicate.” Yasmin managed another pleasant smile while Brucknell's face turned the last few shades to bone white.

“I mean who would be foolish enough to want to spend the rest of their life in jail?” She smiled sweetly and the aide suddenly looked as though he was going to be sick.

“Your father's a wise man.” Brucknell managed to force the words out eventually. He didn't look like he meant them though. Where was the calm James wondered? Because suddenly he looked like anything but a political mover and shaker. He looked like a criminal caught in the guard's spotlight. That seemed wrong. Politicians were surely more disciplined than that.

“We think so. But still the rumour's out there and it's making the rounds. They're saying monies have been paid and agreements reached. Meetings have been held. Recordings made. Some of our people have been asked by the authorities for information. Naturally we've said nothing so far since it's only a rumour. But soon it'll be with Interpol and they'll ask. They always ask us because they know we're such a good source of information. And they'll have warrants. Naturally as a responsible organisation we would want to comply with all such legal requirements. Even if they perhaps implicate other honest American citizens in criminal activities. And when that happens – well the feds will be everywhere. I'd hate to be left holding the bag when the music stops.”

“So would I.” Except that Brucknell clearly thought he was the one holding the bag. No doubt he was thinking about running far and fast. “Recordings?”

Just how far had this deal progressed James wondered? How much money had changed hands? Whose names had been signed to what pieces of paper? And despite the fact that this guy was obviously as guilty as sin and cracking wide open, how did this find them their banshee?

“Of course it wouldn't have to go down that way.” Yasmin smiled reassuringly as she ignored his question. She'd shown him the stick, now came the carrot.

“If it could be shown that there was an open, and transparent consultation process under way. A stated requirement for an external audit. If interested parties were made to register their interest publicly. If perhaps another company could be shown to have made a competing expression of interest. And that monies weren't paid save as fees. Those things would obviously take away any thought of impropriety by the authorities.”

“Of course I would assume that that happened? The documents will show it won’t they?” Yasmin asked innocently.

Brucknell nodded but said nothing. He was beginning to look as though he couldn't speak.

“Good. Because then if the authorities came to us and asked us for what we knew we wouldn't have to tell them anything untoward. It'd be wrong to pass on what are after all no more than rumours.. We won’t show them third party transcripts and recordings. In fact it'd be immoral. And we are a very moral company.”

She was laying it on thick James thought. Threatening and implying things without a single shred of evidence of anything, and expecting the man to simply cave in. They had nothing and even if Brucknell didn't yet know that he would surely have to wonder. He'd ask for proof. He'd already asked about the recordings. He wasn't a stupid man. And yet for some reason he just seemed to be caving in front of them. Was she doing something to him? How? Her magic he thought wouldn't allow her to unless he was also a wizard of some sort. But he couldn't think of any other reason why the man would be having a melt down in front of them.

“Assuming of course that any such deal has been arranged.” Brucknell eventually tried to bluster his way out of his mess. But he still had the look of a hunted animal. And he still wasn't asking for proof. Where was his logic?

“Oh yes, of course assuming that. But you know these Asian gangs. Triads and the like. They're very insistent that this happened. And they are very particular about their record keeping. Very business minded. And very competitive. Actually they fight like cats and dogs. It's not just about money. It's about honour and pride. If one organisation makes a gain, the others lose accordingly. They can't have that. So when one gains a competitive edge the others want it. So they spy on one another just to make sure that no one pulls ahead. You know the sort of thing. Recordings of meetings and pillow talk. Phone calls taped. Interrogations. Paying off informants. They really are quite industrious when it comes to these things.”

“And you're saying that you've got some of these recordings?” Brucknell finally came out of his shock far enough to challenge her. To ask the questions he should have asked right from the start.

“Some?” Yasmin managed to look politely surprised. “Why I suspect we have all of them. Multinationals like oil companies have to be just as industrious as those who try to prey on us. It's a quiet war out there. They see us as sources of revenue, trying to control the local labour markets to ensure that only the people they want are hired, using their influence with politicians to make our approvals difficult, and sometimes even charging protection money. And of course half of them are in league with terrorists and the other half run weapons as well as drugs. Both things they think a respectable oil company could help them move.”

“We in turn see them as a danger to our business. We have to watch them just as closely as they watch each other. These crime families do pose a significant threat to us as well after all. And sometimes things just fall into our lap. Gossip. Like these unfortunate rumours. Sometimes evidence too. Why do you think Interpol keeps coming to us unofficially?”

“Evidence?” Brucknell stuttered it out.

“In this case it seems one crime syndicate saw another one about to make a significant advantage over them and they knew they couldn't get in on the action. Their rival would have been making ground in virgin territory. There were potentially billions of dollars in the offing. If the deal went ahead it would have shifted the balance of power. So since they couldn't get in on the deal they decided instead to make sure that their rivals couldn't prosper. So they gave everything they had to an American company they knew could make use of the information.”

“I see.”

He did see James thought. He saw that he was being blackmailed. But he still hadn't asked to see the proof. Only asked about it. Something was very wrong there.

“I thought you might. However what you might not be aware of is that we have a number of subsidiary companies that specialise in making things go away. It's necessary when you deal overseas with so many authorities and organisations, many of whom don't like Americans. A lot of them blame us unfairly for all sorts of things.”

“If you were interested we could perhaps offer some services to make this go away? But only if you're interested of course. And we'd have to be convinced that these were all just scandalous rumours of course.”

Brucknell nodded. He was interested, presumably because he thought he had no choice but to be. He was being blackmailed after all.

Still, why wasn't he asking to see these recordings James wondered? Surely it had to be some sort of magic at work? It didn't seem likely when Yasmin's magic was meta and there was no one else with magic in the room. But he couldn't think what else was happening. She uttered a few quiet hints of danger and the man turned into a frightened rabbit. Then she dangled a carrot in front of him and he seemed to almost leap for it like a drowning man for a lifeline. Did she perhaps have a charm on her?

“Well then that's something that perhaps one of our subsidiary companies would be happy to arrange for you. We have one that would be just perfect for putting the right spin on things. Finding the right documentation. You know – the stuff that accidentally seems to get misfiled and lost. It happens so often. But they're very good at recovering it. Correcting any little factual errors that can make things so embarrassing. Making the awkwardness go away. In return for a little consideration of course.”

Had she just said that James wondered? Openly? Was he sitting in the same room as her? Had she just extorted a politician's aide in front of him? Or was he misunderstanding what she meant? Because it could mean anything. Except that judging by the look on the aide's face it meant only one thing. The same thing James thought it did.

“Consideration?”

“Oh nothing like that. We're loyal, upright and honest citizens. We'd be happy to offer our services for free. We'd be happy just to have your boss' gratitude. And maybe from time to time his ear. Purely so we can talk informally about things. For example about business opportunities in the state. There are certain drilling rights we might be interested in. A few untapped reserves that could be profitable. And there's always a few pesky rules and regulations that need updating to make them suitable for the modern oil exploration business. I'm sure he'd appreciate the opinion of an industry expert. And of course if this rumour does turn out to be true it might be nice to get a little advance warning. Purely so we can advise of course. And perhaps put in a counter bid.”

They didn't want any of that of course. It was just a ruse to make him think they were corrupt, in the hope that he wouldn't realise that the one thing they did want was a name. A name he would give them without thinking.

“Of course.” Brucknell looked decidedly sick as he said it. Probably because he realised he had no choice. He was being hit with both the carrot and the stick. If he refused, everything went public and he was screwed. He would probably go to jail for the rest of his life. If he agreed, everything went away and he was in heaven, as long as he gave up the casino and everything else they wanted to his new friends.

“Well I can see that we've taken up enough of your valuable time.” Yasmin stood up unexpectedly and James belatedly followed suit. Was the meeting over? They hadn't got the answers they wanted yet.

“Here's a card for that company I mentioned. They really are brilliant at making these little upsets in the PR world go away. In fact you could say they're wizards. Problems just disappear like magic.” She dropped a gold embossed card on the aide's coffee table beside them.

“And I do look forward to hearing from you soon. In fact given how precipitous things are, very soon.”

“Precipitous?” Brucknell suddenly looked like a man who knew he was in the hairs of a sniper's scope.

“Well the rival organisations can be handled. But with Interpol all around, things become trickier. Already they have people sitting in interrogation rooms answering questions. It won't be long before they start obtaining warrants. Once that happens what can be done becomes far more limited. Documents in our possession have to be handled correctly. Those which have been misplaced need to be found quickly. Our people need to start work immediately. I would suggest that this time tomorrow might even be too late.”

“But we'll need more time!”

“You don't have more time I'm afraid. Unless we act very quickly everything will be out in the open. Though of course since none of this has anything to do with you and it's all just lies and rumours I'm sure that you have nothing to worry about. The recordings will all be shown to be fakes. Embarrassing of course, but no more than that. The scandal will simply blow away and you'll be exonerated. Who knows, your boss might even be re-elected.”