The dark emerald, satin dress fitted her perfectly. Her matching high heel shoes lifted her almost to Rafi’s height and accentuated her slim figure.
‘Wow, you look stunning. Yep, you’ll do very nicely!’
The dinner was held in a formal dining room. The Embassy had spared no expense. During the pre-dinner drinks Kate and Rafi were introduced to their prospective boss, Jörg Emcke. He was of average build and height, with receding hair - and introduced himself with great enthusiasm.
‘I heard you wanted to know what my English was like. It’s good, but I still find the English sense of humour impossible. But don’t worry; I enjoy a good laugh, particularly when it’s at the expense of those we catch!’
The individuals alongside whom they would be working looked genuinely unimpressive. They could have been having dinner with a team of auditors who were in the middle of a particularly dull company audit. However, Rafi soon found that appearances could be very deceptive.
The French police chief, Stephanie Doucet, looked incredibly businesslike. She was wearing a plain trouser suit and looked to be in her mid- to late forties. Rafi discovered that she had worked for the Parisian police force and then Europol and, like Kate, had specialised in criminal financial activities.
The Italian detective introduced himself as Celso Morassutti and his Polish counterpart was Ludomir Jablonkowski. Both, Rafi learned, had substantial experience of dealing with organised crime. The background of the three other men remained a mystery.
At dinner, Rafi’s suspicions were confirmed. He had had a feeling that the group had met before and were sizing up the two newcomers. There was great interest in the jobs he had done, but he sensed that they had been fully briefed and were only filling in the gaps. On the other side of the table, Kate was also being discreetly quizzed.
After the main course had been cleared away, Jörg stood up. ‘This will not be a long speech. A couple of hours should do!’ He winked at Kate. ‘Probably a lot less! As you know we’ve been tasked with advising the President of the Commission on what should be done to improve financial transparency. He wants there to be a level playing field, so that when EU tax harmonisation comes in, it will be harder for EU companies aviod paying their taxes. The sums involved are immense, as is the political will. Tens, if not hundreds, of billions of Euros per annum are involved. Our formal role is to be the data gatherers. Technically we will be part of the European Court of Auditors. Their offices are just around the corner in rue Alcide De Gasperi. We will therefore have excellent resources at our disposal.’ He paused and then went on. ‘This is the front under which we will be operating. Your real task is to understand how the criminal fraternity use the current opaqueness of the financial markets to assist them in their activities. While the ways of criminals and terrorists are not identical, the atrocity at Stratford has brought home the scale of the problems facing us. Our activities will remain covert - our aim is not to go out there and arrest people or close down bent corporations; it is to gather evidence that others will use to thwart the criminals and terrorists. I trust we shall all keep a low profile.’
Jörg studied Kate and then Rafi. ‘Seven of us have met before on several occasions. This evening we are joined by the last two members of our team. They perhaps look on the young side to us. However, their track record speaks for itself. They bring to the table cutting edge experience of the lengths to which terrorists and criminals will go in order to get their way. Their knowledge will complement our skills-base. You’re a team of equals – if there’s to be any pulling of rank that is my prerogative and my prerogative alone. Unless I hear any dissenting comments, I shall assume that you are all willing and happy to work together as a team.’
He looked around and then continued. ‘In that case, you will be expected to report for duty at our new offices a week on Monday. That, I trust, will give you sufficient time to sort out your affairs at home, to dust off your suitcases and to find suitable accommodation in Luxembourg.’
Jörg sat down, picked up a large cigar, chopped off the end, carefully lit it and started puffing as though he had no cares in the world – and smoking bans didn’t exist.
After dinner things became more informal. They were ushered into a comfortable sitting room where they chatted and bounced ideas around. Rafi looked around the room: there was definitely an esprit de corps. The special task force was up and running.
At just after 1 a.m., Jörg said he was calling it a night and left with a simple parting remark: ‘It has been a good evening. I look forward to seeing you all in our office on Monday week at 9 o’clock for a strategy meeting.’
It was almost 2 a.m. when Kate and Rafi walked back to their hotel.
The wind had a nip to it, but Rafi had a warm feeling inside him; it had been a fascinating and illuminating evening.
Back in the hotel room, Kate flipped off her shoes, sat suggestively on the corner of the bed and looked across at Rafi who had taken off his jacket.
‘What do you think of this situation we’ve got ourselves into?’ She sounded very excited. ‘I am the luckiest girl in the world. My two wishes have come true: a fantastic job where I can do something worthwhile and a man at my side for whom I would do anything…’
‘And what about my wish?’ enquired Rafi.
She smiled and looked into his dark eyes. ‘I wonder what that might be?’ She turned her back to him and said, ‘If you could help me with my zip…’ but let her voice trail off.
Rafi sat next to her, ran his fingers provocatively down her back and felt a small shudder race through her.
Kate stood up; her satin dress slipped silently to the floor, revealing her breasts enticingly covered by a lacy black bra, just inches from Rafi’s face.
Rafi sat still, taking in the sight before him. He was captivated.
‘Do you like…?’
Rafi pulled her forward and kissed her. The question was left unfinished.
He felt his shirt being unbuttoned; as it went over his head, he stood up and moved closer to her. Her body was warm against his. Their lips met again - her tongue danced provocatively between his lips. He could taste a hint of Cointreau.
Rafi felt her hands effortlessly undress him. Her fingertips tenderly caressed his naked body.
Kate was enjoying the effect her teasing was having on him.
Rafi reached over and switched off the light. He lifted the sheet and slid under the crisp cotton, closely followed by Kate.
‘Now where was I?’ Kate asked playfully as she disappeared under the covers.
Rafi tingled all over as she slowly explored his body. She worked her way back up to his lips and kissed him lovingly.
‘I meant what I said: I’d do anything for you,’ she said as she moved on top on him. ‘At the Headland hotel when I saw Dranoff’s eyes latch on to mine and the sawn-off shotgun come out from under his coat, I was completely petrified. I froze. Out of the corner of my eye I glimpsed you flying down the stairs screaming at him, trying to draw his attention away from me. It all happened so fast: me thinking I was about to die, you screaming and firing and Dranoff blasting both barrels at you. I saw the wooden banister rail disintegrate into splinters only centimetres away from your body and when you landed in a gory mess at the bottom of the stairs.’ Kate tenderly kissed his lips. ‘In that split second, I realised how very much I loved you. You offered up your life to save mine. I was filled with amazement. I vowed there and then, I’d do absolutely anything for you.’
She snuggled closer. ‘My fantasy is to make you blissfully happy.’
The next morning, when Rafi woke, Kate was sleeping soundly by his side. He lay still, not wishing to disturb her. He gazed at her elfin-like features and savoured the memories of the previous night.
They had a lazy breakfast, showered together and were several minutes late for their coffee with Jeremy in the hotel lobby.
‘My, you’re looking radiant this morning,’ Jeremy said to Kate. ‘I see that Luxembourg with
a man in tow suits you.’ He smiled at Rafi. ‘Aren’t you the lucky one?’
The question needed no answer.
‘I hear that the dinner went well,’ Jeremy continued. Rafi resisted asking whether they’d been bugged.
‘Jeremy, how much do you know of what Rafi and I are doing?’ asked Kate.
Jeremy smiled. ‘Ewan has briefed me. I’m to be your liaison with MI5 and MI6. I’ll be based at the Embassy and will have a desk next to yours in your offices.’
‘That’s great. Anything else I should know?’
‘Don’t tell Emma and Jack yet, but they’ll be part of your support team.’
‘Fantastic!’ said Kate with a big smile. ‘And is there anything more?’
‘I understand last night you had lengthy conversations with the three police officers, but found their partners less than forthcoming.’
‘Yes. They were rather secretive.’
‘Probably best if they bring you up to speed once you start working with them. Basically, Pierre Simmon works for the DGSE, La Direction Générale de la Sécurité Extérieure, which is France’s equivalent to MI6. Then there is Luca Duilio, who gained an impressive track record with the Italian Anti-mafia Investigative Directorate; he’ll tell you in due course what he’s been up to for the past couple of years. Bernhard Michalak is from Warsaw. And at one time he worked for the Stasi in East Germany and then had a stint with the FSB, the Russian Federal Security Service. He is a specialist on the whys and wherefores of organised crime in those former Russian states that are now part of the EU. Oh, and he’s a close friend of Luca.’
Rafi looked carefully at Jeremy. ‘They are a forbidding team, aren’t they?’
‘Yep, I’m glad that they are on our side. Heaven only knows what all of you will dig up!’
Their coffee was finished and they said their goodbyes. Kate and Rafi went off to explore the shops. After lunch, Jeremy had arranged for them to meet one of the Embassy staff.
The afternoon was spent looking at apartments. The first looked unremarkable from the outside, was comfortable and spacious on the inside, but had poor views. The second flat was smaller. However, it was only a short stroll from the office, overlooked a small square and was conveniently located for easy access to the airport. The main rooms were light and airy and the master bedroom was a good size with an impressive en suite bathroom. In the basement there was secure parking for two cars.
They both liked it. It would make an ideal and comfortable home for a couple doing a fair amount of travel. They decided not to look any further.
‘Is it within our budget?’ Kate enquired.
‘Money will not be a problem,’ came the reply. ‘When you’ve settled in, do let me know if you need any changes and I’ll happily organise them for you.’
Four hours later, Kate and Rafi were back in Clapham, sitting in front of her gas fire. They were tired, but elated by the prospects of their new lives.
Lying on the table amongst the post was a smart envelope with a crest on the back. It was addressed to both of them. Their company was requested at a reception and dinner at Windsor Castle, six weeks later, to celebrate a State visit by the President of the European Commission.
Rafi looked puzzled. ‘I wonder why we have been invited?’ ‘It’s probably to do with our new jobs,’ replied Kate. ‘Or perhaps we have gone up in the world following the capture of the terrorists?’
The day of the dinner at Windsor Castle arrived. Rafi and Kate had taken half a day off.
They arrived at Kate’s flat in the early afternoon. She was dithering. ‘It’s alright for you; a dinner jacket is a dinner jacket, end of problem. What am I going to wear?’
‘I thought you’d already bought an evening dress?’
‘Well, that’s the problem!’
‘You’ve left it a bit late!’
‘No, it’s just that I have a couple of options and then there’s what shoes and jewellery to put on.’
‘How’s about you put your choices on the bed and we go through them?’
‘Would you be willing to sit through me changing in and out of things, dithering while trying to decide what to wear?’
Rafi nodded, trying to look enthusiastic.
‘Give me a moment and I’ll get everything out,’ said Kate heading for the bedroom. What seemed like ages later, Rafi heard a call from the bedroom. He sauntered down the corridor, wondering what he’d let himself in for, and pushed open the door. There, standing in front of him was Kate with her hair up in a sophisticated fashion. Around her neck was a most exquisite gold necklace of blue gemstones with diamonds, pointing down to a lacy bra, panties, suspender belt and sheer silk stockings.
‘Now watch this.’ Kate smiled and walked into the evening sunshine. Rafi let out a quiet whistle. The blue gemstones in the necklace and the matching earrings had turned a fiery amber colour, setting off her hair perfectly.
‘Magic, isn’t it?’ asked Kate with a grin.
‘You look stunning… What are they?’
‘Blue amber. I’ve always wanted to wear them but never had the occasion before. They’ve been hidden away since my granny died a few years back.’
‘She had the same colour hair as you?’
Kate nodded.
‘I can see why she gave them to you. They are fabulous. I love how the amber changes colours. You look ravishing.’
They walked back to the bed. Four long dresses were draped across the duvet cover.
Rafi picked up a pale gold dress which had an almost translucent quality. It shimmered as it moved in the light. He wasn’t certain about the colour, but Kate seemed to like it. He suggested she try it on.
‘Do you think the colour is too much with my hair? A little shop in Milan made it and some matching shoes especially for me. I paid them a visit while I was working there a couple of weeks ago.’
Rafi watched as she slipped it on. He was surprised at how much he liked it; it hugged her figure, enhancing her subtle curves, and the colour actually accentuated the beauty of her skin and hair.
‘It’s perfect. There’s no need to look any further.’
‘In which case we have a some time to kill,’ said Kate suggestively, slipping off the silk dress. ‘It’s a bit cluttered in here. How’s about we try the sitting room?’
The taxi arrived outside Kate’s flat on time. The twenty-mile journey to Windsor Castle was good for the hour of day.
Emma and Aidan had also received official invitations to the dinner. Neither had expected the other to be there. The seating plan had them next to one another near the top table. Kate and Rafi sat opposite each other at the other end of the room, with a European Council member, two immensely wealthy Continental European industrialists and a French newspaper editor, Jean-Michel Coeurs.
Kate and Rafi noticed a lot of famous faces as they mingled during the pre-dinner drinks. The Royal family, senior politicians and the movers and shakers of the British economy were out in force.
At dinner, Rafi’s conversation with those sitting around him ebbed and flowed. It turned to international businesses and whether too many were exploiting accounting and taxation loopholes. Surprisingly, it suddenly got interesting.
The industrialist on Rafi’s left explained, ‘As the chairman of a listed company, I have analysts crawling over practically everything we do. I’ve got to play by the rules.’
‘That’s your choice,’ countered the other industrialist. ‘I find life so much easier running a private business. I have a flexibility that gives me a distinct competitive edge.’
‘What about the Commission and its approach to matters financial?’ Rafi asked.
This sparked off a lively debate.
‘Remind me how many millions - or was it billions? - of the Commission’s budgets were unaccounted for last year?’ asked Jean-Michel, the journalist.
‘I can’t answer that question as the accounts aren’t due out for several months,’ countered the bureaucrat defensively.
<
br /> ‘OK, what was the figure for the year before, approximately?’ asked Jean-Michel.
‘Roughly, in percentage terms, around… one percent’
This seemed to rankle Jean-Michel. ‘That’s over €1 billion. It would be bad enough if that was the correct figure, but I believe the true figure is far, far greater. Didn’t the European Court of Auditors raise serious concerns about where the €80 billion spent on agricultural and structural projects actually went?’
‘Yes, there are undoubtedly a number of grey areas,’ replied the bureaucrat without any hint of embarrassment.
The topic of conversation continued until the speeches, but the disputed figure still hadn’t been resolved.
Rafi mentally missed most of the speeches. His mind was on the recent conversation. Two things struck him: first, the lack of concern that the bureaucrat had about the Commission’s unbalanced books and the system’s opaqueness, and, second, the opportunities to which the private industrialist had alluded, which enabled him to play the system, make easy money and enjoy being accountable to no one. Then there was the journalist, Jean-Michel; he seemed to know his stuff. Rafi made a mental note that he was a man worth talking to.
After the dinner, whilst Kate and Rafi were waiting for their taxi home, Jean-Michel came over and said his goodbyes. He too was on his way back to Central London.
‘Why don’t you join us? We practically go past the front door of your hotel,’ suggested Kate.
‘Thank you,’ he said. ‘That was a truly memorable evening. Your Royal family certainly know how to entertain and make guests feel special.’
During the forty-minute ride into London they chatted about various things. After a lull in the conversation Jean-Michel turned to Kate and said, ‘I believe we have a mutual friend?’
‘Who might that be?’
‘Stephanie Doucet; she and I grew up together. I saw her for dinner a couple of nights ago. Our conversation touched on the terrorist attacks in London. She mentioned you, and that you reminded her of when she was younger. It seems you made quite an impression!’
LATENT HAZARD: On the Edge Page 45
