Death Count: A Kat Munro Thriller (The Kat Munro Thrillers Book 1)

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Death Count: A Kat Munro Thriller (The Kat Munro Thrillers Book 1) Page 12

by SL Beaumont


  Adam cursed and braked hard. He jumped from the car before it had come to a complete stop.

  “Roger, no,” he shouted.

  Roger turned to look at him. “They will kill me too,” he said and stepped off the railing and tumbled into the murky Thames below. He hit the water on his back and sank from view.

  Adam tore off his jacket, throwing it at Kat, and ran for the steps at the end of the bridge. He raced down the stairs, kicked off his shoes and dived into the river, swimming towards the point where Roger had entered the water.

  A police car screeched to a stop behind Kat and two officers joined her on the bridge, looking down into the water. There was no sign of either Roger Chen or Adam in the dark swirling river.

  “Who’s the jumper?” one of the officers asked.

  “An investment fund manager – DS Jackson has gone in after him,” Kat said.

  The officer nodded. “I’ve radioed; the police launch is coming.”

  “They won’t get here soon enough,” Kat said, looking back at the water as Adam surfaced and turned in a circle, treading the water. Across the river, the shining glass structure of The Shard rose to a dramatic pointed peak dominating the surroundings. There was no sign of Roger Chen, only a mass of ripples breaking the water’s surface. Adam dived again, until finally, as Kat was beginning to worry, he re-emerged. He swam back towards the river bank. She ran along the footpath and down the steps to meet him.

  An officer helped Adam over the low wall beside a boat-tethering pylon. He collapsed on the river path, shivering and panting. A second officer arrived with a silver hypothermia blanket and wrapped it around Adam’s shoulders.

  Kat crouched down beside him. “You did all you could,” she said, resting her hand on his arm.

  “I couldn’t see anything below the surface. I didn’t even know if I was looking in the right place,” Adam said, shaking his head. “Why did he have to go and do that? We could have protected him.”

  ***

  Adam had changed into a dry police tracksuit, and after lengthy discussions with the river police, followed by a long telephone conversation with DI Greenwood, he and Kat were free to go. A police launch continued scouring the river around the bridge and put divers down, but there was no sign of Roger Chen’s body.

  “My flat is just across the river from here,” Adam said. “I need to get out of these attractive borrowed clothes. Do you want to come, and I’ll update you on what Greenwood said.”

  Kat nodded. “Okay. I hope you’ve got something hot to drink. I’m frozen.”

  “I think I can manage that. Come on.”

  Adam’s flat was in an apartment building off Pickford’s Lane.

  “It’s not actually my flat,” he said as they climbed the stairs. “I’m house-sitting for a while.”

  Adam unlocked a door on the third floor.

  “Excuse the mess. I don’t often have company,” he said, scooping newspapers into a pile and moving them from one of two armchairs to the coffee table. “Have a seat while I get changed.” He disappeared through a doorway on the far side of the room. Kat heard the sound of running water as Adam turned on the shower.

  The flat was tiny and dark. Kat walked over to the small window in the lounge and looked out. The view was of the brick wall of the apartment block opposite. She could just make out a sliver of the Thames through a gap in the buildings. The real estate advertisements would probably advertise this flat with a river view, she thought. Turning her back, she wandered into the little kitchen. A window above the sink looked down into a courtyard. The rain had begun to fall in earnest. Kat filled the kettle with water and switched it on. She opened up the cupboards above the bench until she found two mugs and popped a tea bag in each from a canister on the counter.

  “That’s better,” Adam said, walking back into the room dressed in clean jeans and a white t-shirt. His hair was damp and combed back off his forehead. “Here, let me make that. How do you have it?”

  “Black,” Kat replied, acutely aware of his proximity in the small space.

  “I can’t believe he did that. Chen, I mean,” Adam said, pouring the boiling water into the cups and jiggling the tea bags up and down with a spoon, before tossing them in the sink and handing Kat a cup. Their fingertips touched, and Kat jerked her hand away.

  “I know. That was a fairly extreme response when he didn’t even know what we’d found,” Kat replied.

  “Oh, I think he knew what we would eventually find,” Adam said. “But I don’t think it was us he was concerned about; he was terrified of someone else. You saw the look on his face. He figured he was dead already.”

  “Then why not let us help him?”

  “I dunno.”

  Adam took a sip and sighed. “Tea was a good idea; that water was cold.”

  “You were very brave to go in after him. The Thames is a dangerous stretch of water,” Kat said.

  “I was stupid. I couldn’t believe that Chen had been pushed to that point so quickly, and I didn’t stop to think,” Adam said.

  “That’s honest.”

  Adam shrugged as his phone rang. Kat leaned against the bench and listened as Adam spoke with DI Greenwood again. Ending the call, he put the phone back in his pocket.

  “They’ve secured the CIP office for tonight. Nathan is still there with our team trawling through the data. You and I are to go straight there in the morning.”

  “What about Mary McFarlane and Eduardo Diaz?”

  “Greenwood is trying to locate them.”

  “It’ll be interesting to hear what they have to say.”

  Adam nodded in agreement. They were silent for a few moments sipping their drinks.

  “Kat.”

  “Adam.”

  They spoke over one another.

  Kat blushed. “You go.”

  “I was going to ask if you were okay after last night. I didn’t get a chance to ask today,” Adam said. “Have you talked with anyone about your accident?”

  Kat took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “I’m so sorry that you had to see that. My life is complicated, Adam. I’m good at my job, and that’s all that should matter to you.” She put her cup on the bench.

  Adam studied her. “We all have complications, Kat.”

  “We’re not doing this,” Kat said. “I’m fine, really.”

  “Except, when you’re not,” he said.

  Kat pushed off the bench and took a step towards the door. “We’re not having this conversation. I should go.”

  Adam straightened to let her past. She made the mistake of looking into his face. Beyond his steely gaze, she could see care and concern.

  “Do you always run away when someone tries to help you?” he asked.

  Kat cleared her throat. “I don’t need any help.” She lifted her chin defiantly and was met with his lips on hers in a brief tender kiss.

  “Okay, then.” Adam gazed at her for a moment before cupping her face with his hands and kissing her again. Kat moved closer to him and slipped one hand behind his head, resting the other on his chest. They kissed for a long moment before Kat pulled back.

  “No,” she said, pushing away from him and bolting towards the door. She pulled it open and glanced back. Adam was leaning against the bench, his expression blank.

  Kat slammed the door behind her and raced down the stairs to the street. The word ‘no’ pounded through her head with every step.

  Chapter 19

  Adam didn’t look up when Kat arrived at the CIP conference room on the eighth floor the next morning. He was standing next to Nathan, Charles Stephenson, and DI Greenwood, reviewing a series of printouts spread across the boardroom table.

  “Hey, Kat,” Nathan said. He looked tired but elated.

  “Good morning. How’s it going?” she replied.

  “Okay. It’s going to take days to unravel this, but you were right, it has all the hallmarks of a Ponzi scheme,” Nathan replied.

  “What’s a Ponzi scheme?” a
young uniformed officer asked, looking up from the paper files that he was recording on an evidence log.

  All heads turned in his direction, and he blushed scarlet. “Sorry, I’m new to this.”

  Kat smiled at him as she dropped her bag on a chair and removed her raincoat. “It’s a good question. Frauds such as this are named after an American called Charles Ponzi. He ran an investment scheme in the United States early in the twentieth century, where he paid spectacular profits to early investors using the funds invested by later investors. The later investors, attracted by the returns that the previous investors were getting, flocked to the scheme. It’s all okay, so long as people keep investing. But if they all want their money back at the same time, it collapses. Hence the name Ponzi scheme, although you also hear them called pyramid schemes.

  “The problem is that they are difficult to spot until things start to go wrong. In the early stages, everyone is happy, since they are getting good returns. It is only when the scheme struggles to bring in new investors that the cracks start to show.”

  “A house of cards, then?” the young man said.

  “Exactly, there have been a number over the years. More recently, during the global financial crisis, a highly successful American financier called Bernie Madoff had a similar fraud exposed.”

  The young officer looked blank.

  “Before your time, perhaps,” Kat said.

  “So, did you manage to get hold of the other two partners?” she asked the others.

  DI Greenwood nodded. “Yes, they’re with their lawyers now. We’re meeting with them at eleven a.m. They’re claiming to be as surprised as we were about the discovery. Apparently, according to them, this is something that Smyth and Chen dreamed up.”

  “Really? I find it hard to believe that the other partners wouldn’t know,” Kat said.

  “Me too, but we will find out more when we meet them.”

  “Has Chen’s body turned up?”

  DI Greenwood shook his head.

  Stephenson stepped away from the table and took Kat’s arm, moving her to one side of the room.

  “I know that your father has investments mixed up in this,” he said.

  Kat nodded.

  “I hope you haven’t said anything to him?” Stephenson looked at her over his glasses. “This has to be of the highest confidentiality until we can confirm our suspicions.”

  Kat shook her head. “No, of course not, I understand the implications, better than most. Although I admit, I am concerned for him.”

  Stephenson stroked his chin. “Are you going to be able to remain impartial working on this?”

  “Yes, I think I have a strong incentive to help get to the bottom of this.”

  Stephenson studied her. “Okay, but if you feel compromised, you must let me know.”

  ***

  It was a long day, trawling through documents, computer networks, and bank accounts. Still, a pattern began to emerge that proved their suspicions. The team had lunch delivered to the boardroom and kept working, being careful to document everything.

  After a lengthy discussion with the remaining CIP partners and their legal team, DI Greenwood and Stephenson returned to the meeting room mid-afternoon.

  “McFarlane and Diaz maintain their shock at the discovery of this scheme. It does appear that Chen held most of the client liaison responsibilities in the business. This perhaps goes some way to support their assertions that they did not know that some new clients were onboarded into a Ponzi scheme,” DI Greenwood said. “They’re offering whatever assistance we need.”

  “I don’t think I need to reiterate the absolute requirement that this is kept out of the public domain until we can establish the facts of what went on here. For the moment, the police presence is down to the untimely deaths of two of the firm’s principals.” DI Greenwood looked around the assembled team. “Is that clear?”

  Murmurs of ‘yes, sir,’ echoed around the room.

  “Right. I believe that we’ve quarantined the Fund 4 part of CIPs network from the rest of their systems, so we can continue our investigations without disrupting the firm’s legitimate business.” Greenwood looked to one of the Financial Crimes Unit technical analysts, who nodded his agreement.

  “We’ve also isolated the bank account that Fund 4 is using,” the analyst added.

  “Has it been frozen?” Kat asked.

  “No, we’ve taken the call to leave it alone for a day or two and monitor any activity,” Greenwood said. “As the two partners purportedly running the scheme are dead, I expect there will be no activity.”

  “I think that’s wise,” Kat agreed. “The source of several large deposits going back over the last three years is unclear. They appear to be from clients investing in the scheme. Still, there’s no corresponding investment portfolio matching either the amounts or the dates. We'll need to dig deeper.”

  “Let me know as soon as you find anything,” Greenwood said. “I’m going to check in with Adam. His team is now looking into Chen’s death too.”

  “We’ll move the files and documents relating to Fund 4 to the Forensic Accounting Associates office at the end of today, and we’ll continue to build the case from there,” Stevenson said.

  ***

  The King’s Arms had been serving patrons for two hundred years, according to the legend above the door. They found an empty wooden table by the front window and sat down. Nathan returned from the bar with a pint of beer and two bottles of cider. He had three laminated menus tucked under his arm.

  “Cheers, Nate,” Shamira said, taking a long swallow from her bottle. Nate tapped his pint glass against the side of Kat’s bottle.

  “They’ve got blackboard specials too,” he said. “I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.”

  “You’re always starving,” Shamira said, laughing.

  “What can I say? I’m a growing lad,” Nate replied.

  “I don’t know where you put it all. If I ate like you, I’d have to go to the gym every single day,” Kat said.

  “Speaking of gyms, I hear Adam met Marco the other night. You didn’t tell us that,” Nate said.

  “Nothing to tell,” she replied.

  “Really? So what was so important that Adam had to rush to see you after hours?” Shamira gave her a sly look.

  Kat leaned forward. The other two followed suit, their expressions expectant. “I thought we weren’t talking shop tonight,” she said.

  Shamira’s sly look morphed into an exasperated one. “When your love life gets tied up with work, it’s hard not to.”

  “When did we start talking about my love life? I don’t have a love life, remember?”

  “Oh come on. We’ve seen the way you two dance around one another. You hardly looked at each other today. Something’s happened,” Nate said.

  “Nothing’s happened, so please let’s change the subject,” Kat pleaded. “You’re beginning to sound like my mother, who is forever trying to set me up with eligible dates.”

  “She’s right about one thing; you really should date more,” Shamira said. “Not all guys are like Gabe.”

  “Honestly, most are only interested until they see my hand, or they want to tell their mates that they’ve slept with a freak,” she said, her voice laced with bitterness.

  “Oh, I didn’t realise that this was a pity party. Look at me, I’m so unlovable with my missing hand,” Nate said.

  Kat raised her eyes and glared at him.

  “He does have a point. You’re smart, funny, and gorgeous,” Shamira said. “You just don’t give any guy a chance to get close to you.”

  “Yeah, well, the last time I did, it didn’t go so well for me,” Kat replied, waving her prosthetic hand.

  “That was more than two years ago. It’s time to move on, sweetie,” Shamira said.

  “I have.” Kat was indignant. “I’ve accomplished so much. I can do almost anything again. I’m working in my chosen field, I have a great flat and awesome friends, well, w
hen they’re not being arses.”

  “Friends who don’t care about your missing hand,” Nate said. “Everyone has their issues, look at me, I’m twenty-eight, gay and I still haven’t told my dad. You think you’ve got problems?”

  Kat felt the corners of her mouth twitch. “Okay, point taken.”

  “So no more of that poor me, okay?” Nate reached across the sticky bar table and squeezed her prosthetic hand.

  Kat nodded and squeezed back. “It’s fine, really. Besides, I have my fit Italian gym instructor to scratch any itch without the usual annoying complications,” she said with a laugh.

  “Mmm…” Shamira sounded unconvinced.

  “Now, enough about me. What about you, Nate? How are things going with that guy from the Bank of England?” Kat asked.

  Nathan waved his hand in the air. “Moved on from him. Too boring, only interested in working.”

  “So you’re single again?”

  “Yup.”

  Shamira raised her bottle. “A toast then, to the joys of being single.” They tapped their glasses.

  Kat watched as Shamira’s bottle paused halfway to her mouth, and her eyes widened, looking over Kat’s shoulder.

  “What?” she asked, starting to turn, following her friend’s gaze.

  “Don’t look now, but our resident detective has just walked in with a stunning blonde in tow,” Shamira said.

  Kat swivelled in her seat. Her eyes met Adam’s as he scanned the room. Nate was right, they had avoided each other all day, and it was a jolt to see his unguarded gaze directed at her. He held her eyes for several seconds before steering his companion to the opposite end of the pub. Kat’s eyes followed them. Adam’s friend was tall and willowy, dressed in a tight summer dress and white stilettos. She had an expensive-looking handbag draped over her arm.

  Kat turned back to find her friends watching her with undisguised interest.

  “And what exactly was that look?” Nate asked

  “And why didn’t he come over and say hello?” Shamira said.

  “Who knows? The next round is on me. Are you ready to order dinner?” Kat asked, pushing her chair back and standing.

 

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