by Wilbur Smith
During the flight home they discussed what had to be done with the contents of Adam Tippoo Tip’s attaché case. Finally they agreed that if the funds could be recovered from the bank accounts using the passwords and usernames they had acquired, then they would have to be returned to their rightful owners. As soon as they were back in Texas they made the first attempt at recovery. First they opened a numbered account in Switzerland. Then Hector went online and used his fluent Arabic to type in the username and password of Adam’s account at the Central Bank of the Islamic Republic of Iran.
‘Shit! It works!’ he breathed as the files opened on the screen with miraculous rapidity.
‘Don’t swear, darling,’ Hazel told him primly, ‘it’ll bring us bad luck.’
Hector pointed to the balance on the bank account. ‘Do you think eight hundred and fifty-seven million US dollars is bad luck?’
‘It will be, unless you can transfer it into the Swiss numbered account.’
‘Hold your breath and pray,’ he told her, and typed in the instructions. ‘Here we go!’ He hit the ‘Submit’ button, then let out a whoop of triumph. ‘It has accepted the instruction! The money has been transferred!’
‘Check that it’s gone in,’ Hazel suggested. Quickly he opened their Swiss account.
‘It’s there!’ he gloated. ‘Look at it! Eight hundred and fifty-seven million dollars!’ He took her in his arms and waltzed her twice around the room.
‘Now, let’s be serious.’ She stopped him at last. ‘Let’s get the rest of the lolly.’ They sat down in from of the computer again, and worked away for the next three hours. At the end of that time they stared in awe at the screen.
‘We’ve scooped the pot!’ Hector said in sepulchrous tones. ‘We’ve got the lot. Every last bloody dollar. A smidgen over two billion dollars.’
‘Okay! Go ahead and swear. I was wrong. It does seem to bring us good luck.’
‘There is a magnum of Roederer Cristal champagne in the fridge. What d’you think? Shall we?’
‘I think it’s obligatory,’ she agreed. They toasted each other and absent friends, and then got down to the next item of business.
‘Right!’ said Hazel. ‘Can we establish who paid the money into Adam’s accounts?’
‘Yes, of course. We just open Adam’s bank statements. It’s all there.’
‘And we have their account numbers to return all the money to?’ she asked.
‘Not all of it. We have to reimburse Bannock Oil for all the expenditure of equipping and mounting the expedition to Gandanga Bay.’
‘Yes, of course. But we must keep all of this at arm’s length. We can never admit that we had any part in the raid on the pirates. We broke nearly every law in the book when we did that.’
‘As for the refund of expenses to Bannock Oil, I will talk to Prince Mohammed in Abu Zara. We can route the money through him as oil royalties.’
‘Will he do that for us?’
‘Not for us, but for a nice little commission,’ Hector said with a shrug. ‘Apart from being the Prime Minister and Minister of Mines, he is also head of both the army and police force, and governor of the Central Bank of Abu Zara. People tend to do what Princey says without kicking up a fuss.’
Hazel laughed. ‘He sounds like my kind of guy. But how do we get the money to the others that Adam Tippoo Tip robbed?’
‘Have you got a really reliable lawyer?’
‘A whole platoon of them,’ she agreed.
‘Your chosen lawyer will contact each of them separately under a confidentiality agreement. He will explain that his anonymous client has negotiated with the pirates and received a substantial refund of the extorted funds. If they sign a guarantee of secrecy, then they are in line for a distribution of a portion of this amount. You can bet that they will jump at the offer.’
Hector was right; Prince Mohammed channelled the money into the Bannock coffers, and the ship owners and insurance companies who had suffered losses performed like Olympic athletes jumping at their offer.
While all of this was in process Hector and Hazel found the time to fly to Moscow for the wedding of Nastiya Voronova and Paddy. On the way they picked up Cyril Stamford in Taiwan, where the Golden Goose was being refitted. Cyril was now officially employed as the full-time captain of the vessel, and Nastiya had particularly asked Hazel to see to it that he was present at the wedding. Hector could not see the reason why Cyril’s presence was planned so carefully by the two girls. It was only when Nastiya introduced Cyril to her mother that matters became clearer. Galina Voronova was a tall and stately lady of fifty-seven years whose long hair had turned silver blonde. Looking at her it was obvious from whom Nastiya had inherited her own spectacular beauty.
Cyril and Galina shook hands and she said in excellent English, ‘You are a sea captain. That is very romantic!’
Cyril stammered something unintelligible and paled beneath his tan. He seemed actually to sway on his feet as he stared at her. Hazel squeezed Hector’s arm and murmured just loudly enough for only him to hear, ‘Bingo!’ Then she and Nastiya exchanged self-satisfied glances.
After the wedding ceremony in the Cathedral of Christ the Saviour, Hazel handed Nastiya her contract with Cross Bow Security. She had appointed Nastiya the new assistant chief director of the company. When Hector and Hazel flew back to Houston Cyril Stamford was not on board the jet. It would be at least another three months before the Golden Goose was ready for sea and he had that time to spare. For reasons which he fondly believed were known only to himself, Cyril had decided to stay over in Moscow for a while.
Hector and Hazel had a mountain of work awaiting their attention in Houston, including the Bannock Oil AGM and a Japanese delegation anxious to discuss deepwater drilling in the Mariana Trench in the Pacific Ocean, so it was almost a month after their return before they had the opportunity to fly to the ranch in Colorado. After breakfast on the first morning they walked up to the mausoleum on top of Spy Glass Mountain. Old Tom greeted them at the door.
‘They told me you was coming, Miss Hazel and Mister Hector,’ he said, ‘so I got in the flowers. Arum lilies for Mister Henry and roses for Miss Cayla, like always.’
‘You are a good man, Tom.’ Hector watched from the doorway as Hazel arranged the flowers, and when it was done she called him. They knelt side by side on the purple velvet cushions that Tom had placed at the head of Cayla’s marble sarcophagus.
‘I’m not very good at this prayer business,’ Hector warned her gently.
‘I know. Leave this part to me,’ she replied. She was very good at it. The tears welled up in Hector’s eyes as he listened to her.
It was just a little short of two hours before they went out onto the lawn again. The sky was grey with dense snow clouds. They sat together on the stone bench. A snowflake settled lightly on Hazel’s nose. It tickled, so she wiped it away.
‘Winter’s coming early this year,’ she said. ‘Dickie tells me that the geese have already flown south.’
‘Cayla and Henry have gone with them,’ Hector agreed. ‘They weren’t there today.’ He looked back at the mausoleum.
‘You also sensed that?’
‘They won’t be coming back, Hazel. They have gone for ever. Only the memory of them will remain with us.’
‘I know.’
‘Don’t be sad, my darling.’
‘I’m not sad. I’m happy for them. We’ve set them free at last.’ She moved closer to him and he put his arm around her. The evening was coming on apace and it had turned very cold.
‘Hector?’ she said.
‘I am still here,’ he replied. ‘No plans to go anywhere without you.’
‘I stopped taking the pill this month.’
‘Good God, what did you do that for?’ He was astonished.
‘I want another baby. This is my last chance. I am over forty years of age. Very soon it will be too late. I must have a baby. I must have a piece of you inside me. That will be the ultimate affirmation
of our love. Oh! my darling, don’t you understand? I need to have a baby to take the place of Cayla. Don’t you want one also?’
‘Hell! Yes! Of course I do,’ he said.
‘So you really aren’t mad at me?’
‘Hell! No!’ He stood up and took both her hands in his and lifted her to her feet.
‘Come along, woman!’ he said.
‘Where are we going?’
‘Back to the Fatherland, where else? You and I have some important business to take care of.’ Hand in hand they ran down Spy Glass Mountain, laughing all the way back to the house on Guitar Lake.
THE NOVELS OF WILBUR SMITH
THE COURTNEYS
When the Lion Feeds
The Sound of Thunder
A Sparrow Falls
Birds of Prey
Monsoon
Blue Horizon
The Triumph of the Sun
THE COURTNEYS OF AFRICA
The Burning Shore
Power of the Sword
Rage
A Time to Die
Golden Fox
Assegai
THE BALLANTYNE NOVELS
A Falcon Flies
Men of Men
The Angels Weep
The Leopard Hunts in Darkness
THE EGYPTIAN NOVELS
River God
The Seventh Scroll
Warlock
The Quest
Also
The Dark of the Sun
Shout at the Devil
Gold Mine
The Diamond Hunters
The Sunbird
Eagle in the Sky
The Eye of the Tiger
Cry Wolf
Hungry as the Sea
Wild Justice
Elephant Song
Those in Peril
First published 2011 by Macmillan
This electronic edition published 2011 by Macmillan
an imprint of Pan Macmillan, a division of Macmillan Publishers Limited
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ISBN 978-0-230-75767-7 PDF
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Copyright © Wilbur Smith 2011
The right of Wilbur Smith to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
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A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
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