Geneva Connection, The (26 page)

Kent lowered his gaze. “That makes no sense.”

“All of Tritona’s money comes from the Caruana cartel. None of it is legit, in spite of what they may have told you.”

“That’s impossible.” Where the hell was this conversation going? Was he about to be arrested? Did they think he’d been colluding with these gangsters all along? Would they even care he was being blackmailed? Every impulse in Kent’s body told him to get out of there.

Merriman remained silent.

“Do you think we’re a bunch of amateurs?” asked Kent, his face full of incredulity. “We carried out comprehensive compliance checks before we took Tritona on as an investor, and they all came out clean.” They did everything by the book when Tritona first emerged as a potential investor. Kent didn’t know about their criminal backers back then. He wanted, no needed, to get this on the record. He was not a criminal.

Merriman stood and walked over to the large window, with his back to Kent. “I’m sure you checked them out, John. We know you’re a professional. We know you’ve nothing to do with their illicit activities.” Whitlock and Young shook their heads no, as if to confirm he couldn’t possibly be involved.

Kent couldn’t tell whether or not they were mocking him, so said nothing.

Merriman turned to face Kent. “But we need your help.”

“I can’t see how I can help you. I don’t know anything about this.”

“We know where the cartel’s money comes from. We even know how it ends up in Geneva under Tritona’s control. From there, however, the trail goes cold. We know who the key players are, which is how we found you. You’re in a great position to provide the documentary evidence we need.”

“You think I’m a key player? You guys need to do your homework.”

“CBC manages most of Tritona’s investment assets.” Merriman pointed his right index finger at Kent. “That makes you a key player as far as we’re concerned.”

“You’re wasting your time with me. I can’t tell you anything.”

“Don’t play games with us. We need evidence linking those investments back to Tritona. You can access the documents we need. We both know that.”

“I can’t help you.”

“You’ve gotta be shitting me, right? You can’t believe you can continue to operate as usual? I’ve just told you where your investment funds are coming from and that your investors are the biggest source of illicit narcotics entering the US market. CBC no longer has a business. It’s finished.”

Kent had known his business was finished the moment he’d discovered Tritona’s criminal involvement. That was not news to him. “Of course, you can prove all of this?”

Merriman looked over to his colleagues. “Is this guy serious?” Whitlock and Young laughed and shook their heads.

“How do I even know you’re who you say you are?”

“College boy here thinks we’re the amateurs.” Merriman took out his DEA badge, walked over to Kent, and thrust it under his nose. “Does this make you feel any better?”

Kent didn’t bother to look at it.

“I didn’t think so,” said Merriman, with increasing venom. “Don’t fucking pretend you think we’re making this all up,” he shouted. “We’ve been tracking the cartel for years. This is a massive investigation. We haven’t come all this way to play games with you. We’re here to finish the job, and you’re going to help us.”

“I can’t help you. I’m sorry.”
Go find some other idiot to put his life on the line.

Merriman sat next to Kent again. This time, he pulled his chair closer, his face just a few inches from Kent’s. He lowered his voice. “John, if you don’t help us then we’ll have to assume you’re part of Caruana’s criminal network. We’ll assume you’re in it for the money, because that’s how it looks. You see where this is going, don’t you? Losing your business is not the worst it gets. Think it through for a moment.”

“I have nothing to fear. I’ve done nothing wrong.”

For a split second, Kent thought about cooperating with the DEA, but it made no sense. It was clear they’d done a lot of work on this, but without access to CBC’s files they didn’t have enough to put him away. Not yet, at least. He was certain the Caruana cartel would think nothing of killing anyone found helping Merriman. Right now, there was no contest.

Merriman thumped the table hard. Kent jolted back in his seat. “When we get the evidence we need, and make no mistake, sooner or later, we’ll get it, you’ll go down with everyone else. We’re offering you the chance to walk away from this, in exchange for saving us a lot of time and unnecessary effort.”

“If you want to be difficult,” added Whitlock, “we’ll have your ass extradited to the US. Forget the fourteen-year sentence for money laundering here in the UK. Conspiracy, wire fraud, tax evasion, you name it. We’ll have you locked up for the rest of your life.”

“Have you finished?” Kent wanted to tell them all to go to hell.

“You’re making a very big mistake,” said Merriman. “This is the biggest decision you’re ever going to make. Don’t get it wrong. Think of Sarah and what this means for her. How will she cope on her own if you’re growing old in some US prison?”

“Growing old will be a luxury,” said Young. “The cartel’s likely to get to you first. We got plenty of their boys behind bars.” “Someone like you’d fit in real well.”

“I assume I’m free to go?” Kent stood, grabbed his briefcase, and started making his way to the door.

Merriman got off his chair and blocked Kent’s path.

Kent stopped.
Move out of my way, little man.
If it wasn’t for the two bouncers, he would have pushed his way past. “I’m leaving.”

“For the moment, you’re okay to leave, but you need to think this through, John.” Merriman handed Kent a card. “Contact me on that number when you see sense.” He stood aside and opened the door.

Kent breathed in the rush of fresh air as he left the room.

“But don’t leave it too long,” shouted Merriman as Kent hurried along the corridor. “Pretty soon, we’ll find the evidence we need elsewhere, and then you won’t have a choice.”

Kent raced out of the building and made his way back along Old Broad Street, looking for a cab. He had no idea what his next move would be, but he was certain Merriman was not the type to give up.

Chapter 39

T
HE
F
AST
C
ATAMARAN
took just over an hour and a half to make the crossing from Naples to the island of Capri. The water-level views of Mount Vesuvius across the Bay of Naples were a magnet for the tourists aboard the vessel.

Kent and his wife first visited the island as university students. Back then, all they could afford was a week’s camping under canvas, living off beer and pizza and falling in love. Since that time, they’d returned to the island too many times to remember. It was their favorite getaway in the Mediterranean.

When he suggested to Sarah that they spend a few days on Capri, she didn’t need persuading. She needed only a couple of days to make arrangements for colleagues to cover her patient workload at the hospital, and they were off. They booked themselves into the best hotel on the island, in a suite overlooking Tragara Point, a rocky outcrop just off the coast. Most days, they spent their time relaxing at the hotel then, around six p.m., they’d take a walk into the main square to mingle with the locals. They liked the quieter feel of the island in the evenings, when all the day-trip tourists had returned to the mainland. Each night they chose another of their regular restaurants for dinner, but always after enjoying apple martini cocktails at their favorite bar on Via Certosa.

It had been a week since Kent’s shock meeting with Merriman in London, and he was in need of a break. The last few months had been chaotic, and he was still struggling to comprehend how things had ended up in such a mess. However it happened, he only had himself to blame—his stupid, overarching ambition had blinded him to the risk he’d been running. Now, his life was a disaster; he was alone, in a dangerous trap with no obvious way out.

After three or four days, Kent began to release some of the pressure. He’d even enjoyed a couple of good nights’ sleep. If he could have given it all up, and gone back to his simpler student days with Sarah, he’d have done so. They were broke back then, but no less happy.

On the fourth evening, the Kents had dinner on the terrace at La Capannina.

“It’s good to see you relaxing for a change,” Sarah said. “I’ve been worried about you, John.”

Kent feigned surprise. “Worried?”

“You haven’t been yourself for weeks.”

“I’m fine. I’m under a lot of pressure at the office. That’s all.”

“You need to learn how to switch off more. Push some of the workload onto your partners.”

“I delegate as much as I can.”

“You don’t know the meaning of the word. You’re such a control freak.”

The wine waiter brought over a bottle of Brunello. Kent welcomed the interruption while he poured them both a large glass.

“I love you, Sarah,” he said as they clinked glasses.

“So are you going to tell me what’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong.”

“Something’s bothering you. I can see it in your face.” She reached out to touch his hand.

Kent thought for a moment. Sarah was in almost as much danger as he was, so he had to tell her something. But how, without frightening her?

“It’s complicated.”

“We have all evening.”

They were briefly interrupted by the waiter as he brought over their starter of grilled gamberoni—Sarah’s favorite. Kent waited until he had gone to speak again.

“I don’t really know how to tell you this.” He reached across and squeezed her hand.

“It can’t be that bad.”

“You know we signed up Tritona a while back?”

“Yes. The people in Geneva?”

Kent nodded. “They were keen to back us and, after Grampian failed, we were desperate to find new investment capital.”

“Don’t tell me Tritona are about to fail.”

“No. It’s much worse than that.”

Sarah shot him a concerned look, and Kent wondered whether or not to continue.

“You have me worried now.” She put down her wine glass. “What is it?”

“I’m sorry, Sarah, but there’s no way to dress this up.”

“Go on.”

Kent looked into her large brown eyes. She had such an angelic face. One of the reasons he loved Sarah so much was because she always saw the best in people. He’d always done his best to shield her from the hard realities of his business life. This was way beyond that. What he was about to tell her would change their lives forever, and it would certainly terrify her. He wanted to stop right there and rewind the conversation.
I can’t do this to her.

“Come on, John.”

“I feel so bloody stupid.” He paused, searching for the right words. He cleared his throat and looked back into her eyes again. “Tritona is a front for organized crime, and the money we’ve been investing on their behalf is all illegal drug money.”

“Oh my God!” she said, clasping her hands to her mouth. “Oh my God!”

There was no going back now. “I’m so sorry. We were deceived into thinking they were a legitimate organization. They told us a pack of lies and, in my desperation to replace Grampian, I failed to ask enough questions. By the time I found out, it was too late.”

“You’ve got to give the money back. Just give it back.”

“It’s not that simple. The money has been invested.”

“Drugs! Have you reported all this to the police?”

“No.” Kent recognized the incredulity in Sarah’s eyes. How could he tell her he was being blackmailed, without telling her the reason why?

“Why not? You’ve got to speak to them. You’ve no idea what the hell you’re dealing with.”

“I don’t believe Anton’s death was an accident.”

“What do you mean? What’s Anton got to do with this?”

“He and I were discussing Tritona in my office. He was raising questions about where their money came from and telling me how he’d discovered something about their backers. The next morning he was dead.”

“But that could be a coincidence. He was killed riding his bike on his way to the office.”

Kent knew Sarah needed to believe his business partner’s death was a straightforward road accident, but he had to be honest with her. “I don’t think so. I think he was murdered.”

“This can’t be happening. You’ve got to be wrong.”

“Somehow, they knew Anton and I were concerned. They must have thought we were onto them or something.”

“But how could they know?”

“I think they were listening to our conversations.”

The waiter came over to ask if they were enjoying their meal, and Kent waved him away.

“You think they’re monitoring your offices?” Sarah’s hands were trembling, and all color had drained from her face.

“That’s exactly what I think.” Kent knew from the timing of the blackmail note that his offices were bugged, but he couldn’t share that with her.