by Nick Elliott
We were getting wet as the wind blew the rain into the veranda. Stark stood up with some difficulty and stretched. ‘Ah Ming,’ he shouted. She came trotting through.
‘We’re moving inside. Get us more drinks will you? Come on,’ he said to me. ‘This’ll last for an hour or so. I love it. Cools the place down and it’s a great Son et Lumière.’
We moved into the living room but the doors to the veranda were left open. Ah Ming brought us drinks. I joined Stark and had a whisky.
‘Let me try and join some dots for you,’ I said, as much to try and make sense of it all myself as anything. Right now Stark was my best route to resolving the whole business. I told him of the Med Runner case, mentioning the involvement of Boris Kaliyagin, of the frauds, and the tenuous links I suspected proved a nexus between each case. Finally I told him of the speech Dougal had got hold of, of the Revival group and how the speech seemed to link the frauds to their quest for mineral riches.
‘Jesus Christ, are they mad?’ Stark exploded. ‘What are they trying to do? Take over the fucking world?’
‘Not quite,’ I said. ‘They’re selective in their choice of targets. And Mindanao is just the kind of chaotic hotbed of separatism, criminal violence and confrontation that suits their purpose well. In fact, it fits their strategic aims to the letter.
‘I believe they’re behind the Astro Maria attack, and agree they sank the ship to destroy your mining equipment. As you say, Coreminex was the target. They’re seeking to thwart your legitimate plans on Buwan Bundok so they can profit from the area’s mineral wealth themselves. And whether at sea or in failed states like Mindanao, where jurisdictions are also opaque, they can act with impunity.’
‘Unless the crazy bastards are stopped,’ Stark added.
‘Unless they’re stopped, yes.’
‘Listen, McKinnon. We might have different agendas, but if you can get these people off our case, permanently, so we may proceed with our legitimate business, then we will pay you that million bucks, no questions asked. We haven’t the resources, the mandate or the will to fight this outside of the judicial process. Neither do your Kyriakou friends or their insurers. If you’re as resourceful as they say, and with our support, what do you reckon? I’m not expecting you to walk in like Rambo and overthrow these guys, but if you can find a way to hoodwink them?’ He paused. ‘But I doubt you’ll reason with them. We tried that.’
‘I’ll go and take a look,’ I said, ‘but tell me about the value of this mine. What are the stakes?’
‘Hah! How do you want it? Depending on the price of gold you’re looking at somewhere between eighteen and twenty billion dollars US. Say a billion bucks a year for the twenty-year life of the mine. And I’m not counting the copper. That enough for you?’
‘Well I can understand why the local mafia are making a grab for it,’ I said, ‘and why they would need outside help.’
Stark said, ‘Listen. I’m not saying Coreminex is an aid agency, but I guarantee you this: more good will come to the local communities with us mining it than with Malatan and whoever the hell he’s in bed with, this Revival crew.
‘The locals know that the project is their passport to a better quality of life for themselves, their children and future generations. We’ve already ploughed over a million bucks into community development programmes in the area: health, education, social services. I told you, we’re for real. We’re committed. I spend almost half the year over there myself. I know the elected local government people, the tribal chiefs. And I’ll get our people there to assist you. We have resources in place. They can help us formulate a plan for you. You’ll need vehicles, and back-up.’
‘Best if I do this my way,’ I said. ‘I have a contact in Davao. I trust him.’
He shook his head. ‘I had a hunch you’d say that. You’re a loner not a team player aren’t you, McKinnon. Yvonne told me that. You’d never fit into our organisation that’s for sure.’ I didn’t contradict him.
CHAPTER 22
‘Welcome back.’ Grant Douglas’s tone didn’t sound welcoming and neither were the faces of the executive board members gathered round the boardroom table.
It was December. Snow had fallen during the night. Now a watery sunlight was seeping through the windows. Only Grant, sitting at the head of the table, was in his shirt sleeves. He was wearing a red bow tie and matching braces over a blue shirt. The rest sat there in their corporate black suits like crows eyeing a carcase.
‘I’ll cut to the chase, old buddy.’ Grant looked uncomfortable. I noticed Phyllis was absent so no minutes would be taken. Claire wasn’t there either.
‘We’re right-sizing this organisation and we’ve had to review some of our outsourcing contracts, including our arrangement with your good-self.’ He looked around the table at the others as if seeking their validation to what he was saying. ‘So what we’re going to do is this: going forward you’ll be placed on somewhat amended contract terms.’
‘Oh, really?’ I said; I could tell from the inquisitorial atmosphere in the room that this wasn’t about rewarding my outstanding performance.
‘Yes, really,’ he said removing his glasses as if to add dramatic impact. ‘Here’s the thing. We’ve listened to you over these past months, Angus, you can’t deny that. But I’m not sure we fully understand what you’re up to nowadays, exactly what your agenda is.’
‘Well, I thought I’d kept you pretty well informed,’ I said. I was about to continue but he raised his hand.
‘To be frank with you, we feel you’ve been a little disingenuous, a little economical with the truth let’s say, in particular in your pursuit of those fraud cases, and more recently your conduct on the Geo Venturer.’
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about, Grant. Make yourself clear will you?’
‘Just hear me out. I’ll get to the whys and wherefores of it all. And it won’t do you any good getting agitated.’
I took a deep breath. ‘I’m not getting agitated,’ I said irritably.
‘So here’s the plan.’ He got up from his chair and started pacing up and down the room, his head bowed as if in deep thought. ‘You’ll continue to work on your existing case load with a view to bringing them to their earliest possible conclusion on the best possible terms, and under the close supervision of the relevant claims manager back here at HQ. This arrangement will continue for a maximum period of six months, after which we will be pleased to engage your services on a case-by-case basis – as and when required.’
‘You’re firing me,’ I said.
‘No. That’s not a term I recognise in this context. Remember, you were never on staff. It’s simply an adjustment to your terms. Meanwhile, we have decided to transfer young Roy Lawson from Syndicate Two out to Piraeus. In fact, he’s out there now scouting for office space and somewhere to live. He’ll be looking to employ a couple of locals to assist him. And he’ll be handling all new casework as and when it comes in, with immediate effect. He’ll also look to develop the market out there, which we feel hasn’t been exploited to its full potential hitherto.’
I looked around the room. Some of them were staring down at the table. One or two started fiddling with papers in front of them. One even started writing something on his notepad. Whether to hide his discomfort or because he’d suddenly thought of something more important than watching me get fired, I couldn’t tell.
Grant continued. ‘I’ll be straight with you, old buddy. You don’t fit into our culture here. We’ve moved on these past years and you’ve ignored that. Someone said to me recently, McKinnon thinks corporate compliance means expecting the office receptionist to sleep with him. Okay, they were kidding, but that’s the image you’ve got around here. Health and safety’s another one. When did you last wear a hard hat, or hi-vis clothing when you’re in the port or on board? As a contractor you are expected to undergo appraisals and audits, which you steadfastly refuse. You’re a maverick. You don’t conform with the new direction the Club’s going
in, or with the brand image we’re trying to project.’
Grant was well into his tirade now. ‘And now these crackpot theories. What kind of reputational blowback do you think that costs the Club? You’re a loose cannon. You go chasing round the world leaving a trail of destruction behind you. I’m not saying you cause it, you just seem to attract it. You’re not a cop. These are police matters. You should have backed off. You’re a goddamn liability to be honest.
‘And another thing.’ He stopped pacing and looked at me accusingly. ‘There are those who believe you took the Astro Maria job because you were planning to jump ship and join Kyriakou’s Scandinavian Club by seeking to impress them with your investigative skills.’
‘That’s not very convincing, Grant,’ I interrupted. ‘On the contrary, and as you well know, Andrew Kershope and I were hoping to attract Kyriakou’s fleet over to us, to you I should say. Anyway, since you’ve got everyone’s attention, perhaps you can tell us all about my conduct on the Geo Venturer. What’s all that about?’
‘Okay,’ said Grant. ‘For starters you argued with Sidney Waterson, then you beat him up. He’s a respected P&I lawyer for Christ’s sake. Secondly, you were conducting an affair with the charterer’s representative on board the goddamned ship. I mean, how inappropriate can you get? You’re bringing the Club into disrepute.’
I’d had enough. ‘Well, just for the record, old buddy, neither of those little tales are remotely true. Sidney Waterson was drunk. We argued, and I helped him back to his cabin. And I was not having an affair with Yvonne Grey of Coreminex either, not that it would have been anyone’s business if I had been. I wasn’t even on CMM business.
‘But that’s not what this is all about is it, Grant. This is just a good old-fashioned witch hunt and you’ve rigged this kangaroo court for reasons of your own, which I don’t begin to understand. Maybe one day I will but in the meantime I’ll keep running the cases I’ve been assigned because, as I recall it, if I’m the case officer, that gives me full decision-making powers until such time as I close the file or hand it over, which can only happen if and when I decide the time is right. I thought that’s the way things worked here. Or do I need to put all this to the directors?’
As a mutual association, overall control of the Club lay with the directors, who were elected by the members from amongst themselves. In the CMM’s case, over half the board were Greek. Everyone round that table knew I had clout on account of my personal relations with many of them, including my old friend, Christos Mavritis.
‘You can’t just dictate to us like this. The Club isn’t run for your benefit,’ Grant blustered.
‘I’ll dictate as I need to,’ I said. And with that I walked out. I knew this was about more than me flirting with the female office staff, or not following their rule books, or having spent the past few weeks away from Club business. Grant knew of and had approved my absence and anyway, as he’d reminded me, I was not a staff member. And that was the rub. The terms of my contract made it easy for them to do as they wished. The market would not be surprised to see CMM opening up their own office in Piraeus. Most of the International Group of P&I Clubs already had established offices there, why not the CMM? As for Roy Lawson, he was a young lawyer who was obviously going places. I remembered Joe Ellis telling me he was a rising star, not least on account of his being a nephew of one of the British directors.
But what about these stories from the Geo Venturer? Who had stuck the knife in there? I could understand shipboard gossips insinuating that Yvonne and I were having an affair even if it was untrue, but the altercation with Sidney? I must have missed something.
People in this situation always ask themselves why. Sometimes they find out the real reason, sometimes they don’t. I didn’t represent a huge overhead for the Club. For sure, putting Lawson in on expatriate terms with local staff and office rent too would cost them a hell of a lot more than my retainer. I did good work for them, as everyone round that table knew. So this was political. Someone had shafted me and I wasn’t about to ask who at that meeting. I would find out in my own good time.
It had begun to snow again. I walked across Leith Links with brisk resolve. It was more than likely, I thought in my paranoid state of mind, that they’d be clustered round the boardroom window watching. But I was all right, I told myself. I wasn’t short of work. I had the prospect of windfalls from both Kyriakou and Coreminex, if I could sort this whole mess out. And that’s what gave me the sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. Just how the hell was I going to do that?
CHAPTER 23
Once off the Links I turned right into Great Junction Street, then along the Water of Leith towards The Shore. I was about to call Dougal when my phone rang. It was Claire. ‘Where are you?’ Her voice sounded anxious.
‘I’m on top of the building. Just taking a last look around.’
‘How can you be so flippant, Angus? I need to see you.’
‘Why, when and where?’
‘I’m at home. Can you come to the Botanic Gardens, the glasshouses? I can meet you at the entrance in half an hour. I’ll explain when we meet.’
‘That urgent?’
‘Yes, it is. Can you make it?’
‘Sure, half an hour then.’ I started looking around for a cab.
She was wearing black boots, a snug-fitting black coat and a white fur Ushanka hat. We hugged. She smelled good. I wanted to kiss her.
‘It’s freezing. Let’s get inside,’ she said, grabbing my arm as we entered the old iron and glass structure.
‘I love it here in the winter,’ she said. ‘We live just across the road you know, but I often bring the children here just for the atmosphere.’ It had that all right. We walked through into the octagonal Victorian Palm Houses, where the temperature was always twenty-four degrees and the humidity kept above eighty per cent.
‘This part was built in 1834 you know.’ She unbuttoned her coat and took off her hat, her dark hair falling to her shoulders. ‘But it always reminds me of my childhood.’
‘Where was that?’
‘Hong Kong. I grew up there.’
‘I didn’t know that.’ I was surprised.
‘I was born in the Matilda Hospital, Angus.’ There was a pause. ‘Like you.’
‘How did you know where I was born?’
‘Ah, well now,’ she said cryptically.
We walked on but she hadn’t got to the point of our meeting and I was beginning to feel claustrophobic. Here inside, the atmosphere was cloying; the palms, bamboos, the rope-like rattan creepers were all around us, dripping with the humidity. We arrived at a lily pond. Outside the snow was heavier now and lying. Seagulls, seeking shelter from the bitter north-easterly wind, were screeching and swooping about, an incongruous sight from our tropical environment.
‘Can we move on?’ I said.
‘Sure, I’m sorry I brought it up.’ She was hesitating, looking down at her feet.
‘What is it?’
‘I know what happened to you in Hong Kong. I know about the landslide.’
Christ! What was she saying? She looked up at me. ‘I know it’s not easy for you to talk about it but I care for you, Angus. I worry that you’ve never really reconciled yourself to what happened, just swept it under the carpet.’
She’d caught me off-guard. ‘How did you know?’
‘It wasn’t hard. It’s all there on record. It was the biggest disaster to hit Hong Kong for years. And half the victims were expats, which gave it an even higher profile. It shouldn’t have but it did.
‘Forget I mentioned it, Angus. I didn’t mean to. I remember seeing your picture in the South China Morning Post. It was on the tenth anniversary of it; a school photo with a circle round your face. Even then you were taller than the rest of the class, and your hair was longer than everyone else’s.’
‘I’m over it - a long time ago. I don’t think about it now.’
‘Sometimes these things are better out than in.’
I to
ok a deep breath. The putrid smell of the tropical vegetation was suffocating.
‘I was eight years old. I barely remember it.’ I wasn’t sure I welcomed her sudden role change to psychotherapist. But I did remember. A fortnight of torrential rains. In those days our amah would normally have taken us down to the bus stop for the ride up the Peak to school. Only that day school was cancelled. My father was at home too, which was unusual. Did he suspect something dreadful was going to happen and wanted to stay with us? My mother, my father, my sister, our amah, and me. There was a great rumbling sound. Our world tilted. We began to slide across the floor towards the open balcony doors. There was screaming. I remember seeing the furniture tumbling over the balcony.
Then nothing. I remembered nothing more. Only long afterwards, when I was in my late teens, did I press my uncle for more details and begin to remember fragments of the aftermath. The whole apartment block had fallen down the hillside burying everyone in the mud and rubble. The rescue operation went on for days and in the end sixteen of us were pulled out alive. Eighty-seven died, including my parents, my sister, and our amah.
‘I’m out of here,’ I said, unable to take the confined atmosphere any longer. She followed me. Outside I breathed in the cold air. I scooped up a handful of snow and buried my face in it trying to wipe away the memory of the darkness, of the mud in my nostrils and the fear. And after that, a long time after, the sorrow and the guilt. Had they suffered? Why were they cheated out of life? Why did I live and they die? The lifelong burden of guilt carried by a lone survivor.
I said these things to Claire now. I’d not spoken of them to anyone since my uncle and aunt brought me back to Scotland thirty-five years ago as a traumatised child. Not even Eleni knew of it.
‘Angus, I’m sorry. This wasn’t planned, believe me. I don’t know why I brought it up. I wanted to help.’ I put my arm around her.
