Chapter Fifty-Nine
CBC was like a funeral home in the days that followed the DEA’s seizure of assets. Kent’s partners spent their time resigning from the boards of the portfolio companies and helping the US authorities with the transfer of the management of the many investments. It was depressing work, and all for no reward. Various US government agencies took over responsibility for the investments and once they understood the background to each deal, there was no longer a role for CBC. Gradually, the portfolio was disappearing, and there was less and less to do.
Kent started turning up at the office around midmorning. He hated witnessing the slow death of his creation and spent as little time at CBC as he could. It was not the successful end of the firm he’d once hoped for. He’d always imagined handing over an investment powerhouse upon his eventual retirement, but now his firm was coming to a sad end.
He had the difficult task of making staff redundant as the workload diminished. Many of them had been with him since he’d founded the firm. They were friends as much as colleagues, and he’d let them down. He knew how hard it would be for them to find work in the private equity industry now that CBC’s reputation was in tatters. In recent weeks, the newspapers had been filled with stories of CBC’s connection to organized crime. Most of them didn’t care that CBC had been deceived into dealing with the cartel. It was a more interesting story, and sold more papers, covering in sensational terms how one of the world’s leading private equity firms had become a front for drug money. Some of the tabloids had more lurid stories with headlines such as “CBC Partners get Headhunted” as they went on to describe the cartel leader and his extraordinary violence in every gory detail. Kent knew it would be impossible for anyone at CBC to maintain a professional reputation after all this.
Kent was planning to leave the industry when the firm was wound up. Like the others, he had no choice. He knew he’d be unable to work in financial services again. The FSA would never give him license to operate in another regulated firm. They’d look stupid authorizing the CEO of a firm with proven links to the biggest organized crime outfit in the world.
He had no idea what he was going to do with his time. He was almost fifty and he’d gone from being a master of the universe to nothing in a matter of months. Whatever it was he decided to do, he could never let it show that he remained one of the wealthiest people on the planet. He’d worked out that Merriman, for whatever reason, wanted to transfer HS1 to the cartel. Kent’s last-minute plan to invalidate the transfer documentation with a fictitious signature had worked. Merriman would simply assume he’d been cooperative; after all, he’d completed the transfer documents exactly as requested. The cartel would assume the DEA had kept the asset along with all the others. He’d have to be vigilant, taking care to hide the income coming from the investment, at least in the early years.
Two weeks after the asset seizure, Kent was at home reading his Sunday newspaper. He picked up the international section and began to read an article about rising Mexican drug cartel violence. It went on to describe the recent kidnap and murder of the daughter of a senior DEA official by the Caruana cartel. He stopped breathing. The official was a Mark Merriman, the DEA’s Head of Intelligence. It was not clear as to whether or not there had been any ransom demands. A few days after the kidnapping, a body part from the young girl had been sent by the cartel, indicating she’d been killed.
Kent’s heart felt as though it was about to explode in his chest. That’s what Merriman must have meant when he said his child’s life was at risk. Did the cartel demand the return of HS1 as a ransom? Oh, Jesus! Have I caused the murder of this young girl? He dropped the newspaper and stared at the middle of the room.
“Are you okay, John?” asked Sarah. Kent didn’t answer. “John.”
“I don’t feel well,” he said as he got up and ran to the bathroom.
He threw up into the toilet and then sat on the floor, leaning against the bathroom radiator. How long will it take Merriman to discover what I did to the documents and that I still have the asset? He’ll hold me responsible for his daughter’s death. Christ, he’ll tell the cartel I’ve stolen their investment. What a fucking mess.
Sarah knocked on the bathroom door. “Are you all right, John?”
“I’m okay. I think I ate something that didn’t agree with me. Give me a few minutes.”
Kent stayed seated on the floor, trying to work out what he should do. He knew he and Sarah had to disappear and quickly. I can’t have more than a few days before Merriman discovers what I’ve done.
Later that afternoon, Kent drove to his squash club for a scheduled league match. He didn’t feel like playing, but he needed something to take his mind away from the horrific situation he was in.
While he was out, Sarah heard Kent’s mobile phone ringing; he’d forgotten to take it with him. The phone rang several times, but she couldn’t find it. Eventually, she heard the ringing coming from Kent’s briefcase in the study. She opened it and grabbed the phone, just missing the call. As she placed the phone back in the briefcase, she saw a DVD tucked into a side-pocket. She took it out. No label. Can’t do any harm to look.
Sarah placed the DVD into the drive of the iMac on the study desk and waited for it to start. The video played out in high resolution on the wide screen. Kent and Tara in the Geneva hotel suite. The bastard.
Chapter Sixty
Two days later, Kent had to let go ten more staff and three partners. They all knew it was coming, but it still didn’t soften the blow. By late afternoon, he was shattered having had to deal with the emotion of the redundancies while knowing Merriman or the cartel would be coming for him. He knew he only had days to figure out what to do.
How am I going to persuade Sarah to disappear and leave behind family, friends, work, everything? How can I tell her I stole the cartel’s investment and this probably led to the murder of an innocent young girl? I’ll have to tell her we’ll be on the run for the rest of our lives, pursued by the DEA and the Caruana cartel. How else can I explain why we can’t leave any connections with our current lives? I can’t do this to her. Maybe I should hand myself in.
An e-mail popped up on Kent’s screen. It was from Sarah, so he opened it immediately.
“John
I know about you and Tara. Saw the video and every ugly detail. You bastard!
I told you what would happen if you ever did this again. Don’t bother to come looking for me. I’ve moved out. Also in your briefcase was a set of documents relating to something called HS1. They seemed to be in my name, so I’ve kept them.
Goodbye, John.”
Kent closed his eyes and exhaled. I’ve lost everything.
“Can I ask you a favor, John?” asked Tara, from outside his office door.
Kent jumped in his chair. “I’m sorry. I didn’t see you stood there. I was in a world of my own. What is it?”
“Would you mind dropping me off on your way home? My car’s in for a service and they’ve just called to say they need to keep it in overnight.”
Tara lived in the village of Oundle, which was not much of a detour for Kent on his regular route home. He looked at his watch. “Okay, but I’m leaving now. Something urgent’s just cropped up.”
“Great. Thanks. Sorry to be a pain.”
Kent turned off his PC, stood, and grabbed his briefcase. He hovered around Tara’s desk while she packed her things. “We really need to get going,” he said.
Kent raced along the A14 to Thrapston then headed north on the A605. On their way back, Tara tried to make smalltalk about the events of the past year and how sad it was that the firm had been brought to its knees. Kent’s mind was on Sarah and where she might be.
“I’ve lined up another position with an insurance company in Peterborough,” said Tara.
“I’m pleased for you,” said Kent. “I’m sorry we won’t be working together.”
“Take the left here. It’s much quicker,” she said, as they drove past Oundle Golf
Club.
Kent turned left onto a single-lane road called Harley Way. They drove about a mile along the quiet country lane.
“Pull in here, John.”
“Here? Why here?” he asked, slowing down the BMW near a gated entrance to a wood. The footpath sign said: “Lyveden New Bield.”
“Just do as I say.” She’d taken out a pistol from her handbag and had it pointed at him.
“What the hell are you doing? Are you mad?”
“Shut up and get out of the car.”
“What?”
“Get out of the fucking car.”
Kent climbed out of the vehicle. Tara did the same, keeping the gun pointed at him.
“Throw me the keys,” she said.
“Have you lost your mind? What are you playing at?”
Tara released the safety catch and shot the ground close to Kent’s feet. He jumped out of the way. “Okay, okay,” he said, holding up his hands.
“The next one won’t miss. Now throw me the keys.” He threw them to her.
She pointed with the pistol to the gate leading to the wood. “Follow the footpath.”
Kent did what he was told. Tara followed him with the gun pointing at his back. After five hundred yards, they reached the Elizabethan ruin of Lyveden New Bield, a dilapidated aristocratic manor house. Tara ordered Kent into the building. It was getting dark, and no one was about.
“Get on your knees.”
Kent knelt on the ground. “Tara, please, what’s going on?”
She walked around to face him, holding the pistol two feet away from his head. “This is about the documents you provided to the DEA,” she said.
“What documents? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t play games with me, John. I know all about the documents you provided to Mark Merriman.”
“I swear, Tara, I don’t know what you’re talking about. I had no contact with the DEA before they called me to say they’d seized Tritona’s assets. I haven’t given them any documents.”
“There’s no point denying it. The cartel has a mole inside the DEA.”
“What do you know about the cartel?”
“Everything.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I work for the cartel. I always have.”
“That’s not possible.”
“Do you really think Tritona just stumbled across CBC?”
“What do you mean?”
“I introduced Tritona once I knew how desperate you were to find another major investor to replace Grampian Capital.”
“You’re making this up.”
“The cartel has a number of sleepers, like me, who’ve been placed in key financial firms. Our job is to introduce them when a firm like CBC is desperate for money and isn’t likely to ask too many questions. They need significant firms to acquire assets with their laundered drug monies. It’s a big business.”
“I don’t believe you, Tara. What are you really up to?” Somehow, she must have found out about HS1. She’s always had access to my private files. Now CBC is over, she wants to be cut into the deal. That’s what this is all about. “You know about High Speed 1, don’t you?”
“What are you talking about?”
“You want a slice of it. Am I right?”
“A slice of what?”
“You know I’ve stolen that investment and you want in on it. Drop the pretense.”
“You’re really stupid. I’ve just told you I work for the cartel and now you tell me you’ve stolen a cartel asset.”
“I just don’t believe you, Tara. I know what you really want. I’ll cut you in. It’s big enough for both of us.”
“How do you think Tritona knew to step in to CBC’s shoes on the Henderson Wright deal?”
“Coincidence.” Did she really bring them in?
“Don’t be an idiot. Do you think it was a coincidence that the DVD of us in the hotel room in Geneva turned up just as you were planning to write to SOCA? Of course not. We had the DVD ready in case we needed leverage over you, in case you failed to cooperate. You can’t really believe I found you attractive?” She raised an eyebrow and snorted. “You’re pathetic.”
“You knew about the DVD?”
Tara laughed. “We set you up. The whole evening in Geneva was a setup.”
“You bastard.” The bitch has played me from the start. I’ve lost everything because of her.
“Finally, you’re getting it. Surely, you don’t think Anton’s death was a cycling accident?”
“You didn’t kill him. Please, tell me that you had nothing to do with that.”
“It was no accident. He was in our way, asking too many questions, so I had to deal with him. Doug Wright was another one.”
“Oh, Jesus!”
Tara walked closer to Kent. The pistol was now only six inches from his head.
“Tara, please. I beg you. Think of your mother. What would she say if she saw you now?”
“My mother’s been dead for years.” She smiled. “You really don’t get it, do you? You should’ve stuck to investing, John. If you’d played the game, you’d have been rich. The moment you agreed to help the DEA, your future was written.”
She released the safety catch once more. Kent closed his eyes. He thought of Sarah and of the life they would never live together. He thought how much he loved her. I’m so sorry, Sarah. Forgive me, my darling.
“Please, Tara.” He braced himself.
The sound of the single shot reverberated around the old ruin. Tara fell to the floor. She was dead before she hit the ground. Kent opened his eyes. Am I still alive? He jumped to his feet and looked around. Tara’s contorted body was facedown, blood spurting from her head.
“How did it all come to this?” he mumbled.
There was movement in the shadows some fifty feet away. The light was fading fast; it was difficult to see anything.
“Who’s there?” he shouted.
The red dot of the rifle’s laser sight appeared in the middle of Kent’s chest. He was dead before the sound of the shot reached his ears.
Merriman was sat at his desk when the call came in on his phone.
“Merriman,” he said.
“It’s done.”
END
Glossary of Terms
DEA: Drug Enforcement Administration. This US government agency is responsible for investigating and assisting in the prosecution of criminals involved in the illegal narcotics trade.
FSA: The Financial Services Authority. This is the government body responsible for the regulation of financial services firms in the UK.
Leveraged buyout: The acquisition of a company assisted by debt finance. A leveraged buyout firm is a private equity company that specializes in undertaking leveraged buyouts.
SEC: The Securities and Exchange Commission. Among other things, this is the body responsible for the regulation of public companies in the US.
SOCA: The Serious Organised Crime Agency. This UK law enforcement body is responsible for tackling serious organized crime, including class A drugs, people smuggling, fraud and major gun crime.
SPV: Special purpose vehicle. These are corporate and other legal structures used to acquire investments and other assets.
Acknowledgments
I’d like to thank the following for their patience and assistance in reviewing the various drafts of my novel:
Erica Mills, Chris Gilliat, Ally Butler, Jon Glesinger, Michael and Victoria Klincke, Rita Camplejohn, Bruce Westbrook and my friends at Litopia.com.
Martin Bodenham
Rutland, England
December 2011
About the Author
I was born in Leicester, England in 1959. My American father was in the US Air Force while my British mother sterilized telephone handsets. I was educated at the Duke of York’s Royal Military School in Kent and at the University of Leicester, where I read economics.
After university, I trained as a chartered accountant, work
ing in the UK and USA. I have spent the last twenty-five years in private equity, working either as an investor or advisor. Today, I am the CEO of Advantage Capital, a London-based private equity firm. Along the way, I have been an investor at 3i and Close Brothers, and a corporate finance partner at both KPMG and Ernst & Young.
I am married to Jules. She is a psychotherapist and keeps me in check. We live in Rutland, England’s smallest county.
More details are available on my website:
www.martinbodenham.com
Table of Contents
Cover
title page
Copyright Information
Warning
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
The Geneva Connection Page 26
