The Marketmaker

by Michael Ridpath

After the meeting had finished, I crept back to my desk. Paper had accumulated on it in the three weeks I had been away. I glanced over to Isabel’s desk. Empty. Tidy. Waiting for its next occupant.

  Ricardo drifted over, pulled up a chair and sat next to me. It was quiet here, away from the square of traders and salesmen who were already hitting the phones.

  ‘How are you feeling?’

  I just shrugged.

  ‘It shook us all badly here,’ Ricardo went on. ‘It’s been tense this last couple of weeks. And then, just as things were going so well, suddenly everything fell apart.’

  I nodded.

  ‘It must be tough for her father. He meant a lot to her.’ Of course. Isabel must have told Ricardo all about herself and her family, much the same as she had told me. I wasn’t sure I liked that idea.

  ‘It is hard for him. Not knowing whether she’s alive or dead.’

  ‘And this man Nelson Zarur thinks there’s no chance that she’s still alive?’

  ‘There’s always a chance. But he’s not optimistic. Neither are the police.’

  We sat in silence. I didn’t want to talk to Ricardo about all this. But, once again, there was something beguiling about his frankness. ‘I liked her,’ he said. ‘And, if I’m not mistaken, you did too.’

  ‘I did,’ I said quietly. ‘I mean, I do.’ I hated to talk about Isabel in the past tense. To me she was still alive. She had to be alive.

  ‘Sorry,’ said Ricardo. ‘You’re right. I can’t accept that she’s … not alive either.’ His voice held a gentleness I had never heard before. ‘People respond to this kind of thing in all sorts of different ways. I don’t know how you feel about it. Take it easy if you like for a bit. Or maybe you want to get stuck into the work to take your mind off it. You do whatever you think is best. We can be patient here.’

  Until you read the Brazilian newspapers, I thought. Luís had said the story would come out at the beginning of this week. I began to feel second thoughts about that. In Luís’s sitting room, in front of the fire, thinking about Isabel, it had seemed a good idea. Now, I wasn’t so sure. I had to make sure I wasn’t around when the story broke.

  ‘Ricardo?’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘There’s something I want to tell you.’

  He waited.

  ‘I resign.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘I said I resign.’

  Ricardo was about to say something, but saw the expression on my face, and kept quiet. He settled himself, and his eyes sought mine. I held them.

  ‘Why?’ he said quietly.

  ‘I was thinking about it when I went down to Brazil. And after what happened to Isabel… I just don’t want to work here any more.’

  ‘Nick, it’s natural you’re upset. Take some time off –’

  ‘No, it’s not just Isabel.’ I took a deep breath. ‘I don’t think I can do things the Dekker way.’

  Ricardo frowned. ‘What things? What do you mean?’

  I paused to collect my thoughts. I knew that, if I wasn’t careful, Ricardo would talk me out of this. ‘We talked about it on the plane back from Brazil. And there are other things I’ve seen since then that have made me more concerned.’

  ‘You saw the Brady battle against Bloomfield Weiss, didn’t you? Of course you did. You played an important part in it.’

  ‘Yes, I saw it.’

  ‘Didn’t you enjoy that?’

  ‘Yes, I did.’

  Ricardo paused and looked at me. ‘Do you know how much money you’ll make this year, if you do as well as I think you will?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Guess.’

  ‘Well, nine months’ work, that’s a bit over twenty thousand pounds’ salary. And a bonus.’

  ‘Of how much?’

  Damn him! I should just ignore his question. But it intrigued me. He was clever. I’d joined Dekker for the money. How much money had been left vague. Now I would find out.

  ‘I don’t know. Ten thousand pounds, maybe?’

  ‘I would be surprised if you didn’t get a bonus of a hundred thousand dollars this year.’

  Jesus! I tried hard not to look excited or greedy. I could feel a smile creeping across my face, but I suppressed it. ‘Oh,’ I said, my voice strained.

  ‘And, of course, we’ll start making investments for you in the employee trusts. In three years you’ll be worth at least half a million. In five, a million. Now, do you still want to resign?’

  He was telling the truth, I could see. He wasn’t bullshitting me. With a million quid I could give up and do what I really wanted to do for the rest of my life. If I left now, the boiler still wouldn’t get fixed.

  But I would lose myself. I would become a different person, a rich person, but a person I wouldn’t like. A person Isabel wouldn’t like.

  ‘Yes,’ I said.

  Ricardo’s face flushed. He looked angry. ‘You really should take some time to think about it. Take a week.’

  ‘No. I’d like to leave today.’

  ‘If you’re not with me, you’re against me. I told you that before, didn’t I?’ There was a real edge to Ricardo’s voice.

  I held up my hands. ‘Hey, I don’t want to become Dekker’s enemy. I’m just in the wrong job, that’s all.’

  ‘No, Nick. I have personally put a lot of trust in you. You have let me down. I won’t forget that.’

  His eyes looked straight into my soul, blue and piercing. I felt very uncomfortable. I wanted to bow my head, to say, ‘Yes, of course, Ricardo, I’d be happy to stay.’ But I held his eyes, and kept silent.

  ‘All right. There’s no need for you to go right away. It’s not like you’re going to a competitor or anything. Are you?’ He glared at me.

  I shook my head. There was no way I was going to make the same mistake twice.

  ‘Good. Well, clear your desk and be out by this evening. Talk to Eduardo about your P45, and your loan.’

  With that, he stood up, turned his back on me, and walked off.

  I hung my head and sighed. I felt like shit. I felt disloyal, dishonest, cowardly. How did he do it? How could he make me feel like this?

  A few minutes before he had treated me with genuine sympathy. And then … It was his single-mindedness, I supposed. Anything that threatened his beloved Dekker Ward threatened him personally, even if it was only the resignation of one of his most junior people.

  His words returned to me. ‘If you’re not with me, you’re against me.’ No compromises.

  I knew I had taken the right decision. While I had been in Brazil my doubts about the money-laundering, the way I had deceived Wójtek, and what had happened to Dave had all receded into the background. But they would come back. I had discussed my resignation with Isabel, and she had thought it a good idea. Besides, with the press story Luís had concocted, it was best to get out now. The whole Dekker experience had been a big mistake. The sooner it was behind me the better.

  Slowly and deliberately I began to gather my things together.

  I felt a presence beside me. It was Eduardo. He looked angry.

  ‘Ricardo tells me you have resigned.’

  ‘That’s right,’ I said.

  ‘Well, I think you should leave now.’

  ‘But Ricardo said I had until this evening,’ I protested.

  ‘And I say you leave now,’ Eduardo repeated firmly. ‘The security guards will be up in a couple of minutes.’

  I shrugged my shoulders. Actually, that suited me. I had collected all my stuff in a cardboard box, there wasn’t that much of it.

  Eduardo’s dark eyes bored into me. ‘When you go I want you to forget Dekker, and forget all you saw here. But I won’t forget you. I’ll be watching you. And if I see you try anything, any tiny little thing, which might harm this firm, I will take the appropriate steps.’ His voice was low, almost a whisper. It made my skin prickle, a physical reaction to the danger that loaded his words. ‘Do you understand?’

  My throat was dry. I knew Ed
uardo didn’t make empty threats. But I didn’t want him to see me swallow.

  ‘What I do with my life is my own affair,’ I said.

  ‘Oh, no, it’s not,’ said Eduardo, leaning forward. ‘It’s mine now, too.’

  I picked up my jacket from the back of my chair and put it on. Eduardo was right to be concerned about me, of course. As he would realize when he saw the stories in the Rio papers.

  Two security guards arrived at my desk. They searched me, turning out my pockets, and patting my chest, arms and legs. Eduardo seemed disappointed when they didn’t find anything.

  The dealing room went quiet, as everyone watched me, jaws open. Jamie saw me from the square. ‘What the hell?’ he mouthed. He still didn’t know I had resigned. I sought out Ricardo. His eyes met mine, emotionless. I felt the stares burning into me. Still, I thought, if they could turn Dave into a non-person so quickly, they’d have no trouble with me. The guards led me through the unnatural silence, out of the trading room to the lifts.

  I plummeted forty floors down to the real world.

  22

  I felt elated as I pedalled rapidly back to Primrose Hill, leaving the Tower further and further behind me. No more worrying about Ricardo and Eduardo. I could forget money-laundering and murder. I had escaped!

  By the time I reached home it was one o’clock, and I was hungry. As soon as I was through the door I checked the fridge for something for lunch. Nothing. There was a pint of milk, though, so I made myself a bowl of cornflakes. There were also a couple of cans of beer. I don’t drink during the day. I took one. It turned out that beer and cornflakes don’t go well together.

  I was glad about leaving Dekker, although I felt a fool for going there in the first place. It would be a difficult mistake to unravel. I would have to go cap in hand to Russell Church at the School of Russian Studies, admit I was wrong, and ask if he knew of any jobs anywhere. I shuddered as I thought of applications, interviews, explanations of why I hadn’t any formal Russian qualifications, if I even got far enough to be allowed to explain. My father would think I was crazy.

  And money. I had received one pay cheque from Dekker, which helped a lot. But I still had the mortgage on my flat. Mr K. R. bloody Norris would be on my back again in no time. And I owed Ricardo his five grand, three of which I still had in the bank. Well, that would come in useful to tide me through the next few months. One day I’d pay him back. Maybe.

  Sharp hammering started up somewhere above me, followed by the muffled crash of plaster pulled away from a wall. I remembered that the old lady upstairs had warned me that she was having some work done. I was never home during the day so I hadn’t noticed before.

  I finished the bowl, and prowled through to the tiny bedroom, stepping over my bag of rugby kit, which I still hadn’t had time to wash after the last match of the season. My euphoria at escaping Dekker was swiftly evaporating as I faced the realities of life without a salary. The bed beckoned and I flopped on to it. I lay face down, eyes open, thoughts rushing through my mind.

  I missed Isabel. The eagerness with which my brain had tried to deal with her kidnapping, the scrambling for memories, for causes, for culprits, had been replaced by a tiring, chronic despair. The uncertainty was hard to cope with. Most of the time I told myself she was alive. But in dark moments, like now, I felt she was dead, that I would never see her again. The question was always there. If she was dead, why hadn’t they found her body? If she was alive, why hadn’t Zico called back with the proof of life? Why would he want to kill her, when he was on the edge of making a fortune out of her? Why should he keep her alive, when it looked as though the police were on his trail? I needed to know one way or the other. And yet… At least there was still hope.

  The phone rang. It was Jamie. The noise and chatter of the Dekker trading room came through strongly in the background.

  ‘What the hell have you done?’

  ‘Resigned.’

  ‘I know you’ve resigned. But why? It’s put Ricardo in a hell of a bad mood. He rated you, you know. And why didn’t you tell me?’

  I should have told Jamie, but I hadn’t. I just couldn’t face explaining it to him, and then having to explain it to Ricardo. I hadn’t seen him at all since I had returned from Brazil.

  ‘I’m sorry, Jamie, but you know I’ve had questions about Dekker ever since I joined. It’s not for me.’

  ‘Are you all right? The theory here is that you’ve lost it since Isabel’s kidnap. Are you sure you know what you’re doing?’

  ‘I’m sure. I am upset about her, but I’d planned to resign before I went out to Brazil in any case.’

  ‘Well, we’re busy doing a Dave on you here. Although it’s a bit easier in your case.’

  ‘Yeah, well. I’m not surprised.’ But I was a little hurt. I liked the other guys. I didn’t want to be erased from their consciousness.

  ‘You must feel awful, mate. Shall I pop round for a drink? I can’t make it this evening, but tomorrow?’

  ‘Yes, Jamie. That would be good.’

  I had never doubted that Jamie’s friendship would survive my resignation. He had stuck his neck out for me with Ricardo, and I had made him look a fool, something Jamie never liked. But I knew he would stick with me. It would be good to see him tomorrow.

  I drank the other can of beer, then went out to the off-licence and bought some more. I put on some of Joanna’s old CDs. I suppose I hoped that they would remind me of her, and push Isabel to the back of my mind for a moment. They didn’t. I ordered a pizza and ate it. Then I rang Luís and told him I had resigned. No news of Isabel. At some point, as the day dragged to an end, I went to sleep.

  I went to sleep thinking of Isabel, and I woke up thinking of her. But I also woke up determined to pull myself together. I cleared up the debris of the day before, bought some real food from the supermarket, and made myself a proper breakfast: bacon, sausages, fried eggs, fried bread, the works. And I made a pot of fresh coffee.

  Feeling fat and a little happier, I sipped my coffee and stared out of the window at my small garden. It was a mess, with weeds bursting upwards, overwhelming the few perennials that had survived the winter. The grass was looking more like a miniature hayfield than a lawn. Perhaps I would get stuck into that after breakfast.

  I should call Russell Church at the School of Russian Studies. But not today. Tomorrow.

  The phone rang.

  ‘Hallo.’ It was the first word I had said all day. It came out thick and hoarse.

  ‘Nick. It’s Father.’

  ‘Oh, hallo.’

  ‘Are you all right?’

  ‘Yes, sorry, I’m fine, Father. What’s up?’ My father never phoned me. Never. My mother rang very occasionally, on my birthday, perhaps, or when she hadn’t heard from me for a couple of months, but not my father.

  ‘I telephoned you at the office last week, but they said you were in Brazil on a business trip. Sounded interesting. Then when I rang this morning, a nice chap said I could find you here.’

  ‘Well, here I am.’

  ‘Listen, Nick. I thought I’d come down to London for the day next week. Catch up with a few old pals. I wondered if I could drop in and see you?’

  Oh, God. Just what I needed.

  ‘Fine,’ I said.

  ‘I think I can remember where Dekker’s offices are. They haven’t moved, have they?’

  ‘I don’t work there any more.’

  ‘What?’ He sounded shocked.

  ‘I resigned. Yesterday.’

  ‘Whatever for?’

  I groaned inwardly. How could I explain this?

  ‘The City is just not for me, Father.’

  There was silence. ‘OK. I see.’ His voice blew cold down the phone line from Norfolk. ‘It was a terrific opportunity for you to make something of yourself, Nick.’

  ‘It’s not a good place, Father. Honestly. I’m better off out of it.’

  ‘Well, your mother will be most disappointed,’ he said. Actually I thought
she’d be quite pleased.

  ‘I’d still like to see you,’ I said, almost to my surprise.

  ‘Um, yes, well. Maybe another time. I was hoping to see you in situ, as it were. But if you’re not working, then there’s not much point, is there?’

  ‘I suppose not.’

  ‘Goodbye, then.’

  ‘’Bye.’

  I put the phone down. Despite myself, I felt guilty and angry. Guilty that I had disappointed him, angry that he hadn’t wanted to see me.

  I felt alone.

  My thoughts turned back to Dekker. Jamie had said they were doing a Dave on me. I wondered what had happened to Dave. I hadn’t had time to get to know him very well, but I had liked what I had seen of him. And now I felt some kindred spirit with him. A fellow ex-Dekker non-person.

  I dug out the phone list I had been given when I had joined Dekker. It listed all home numbers, Dave’s included. Dekker employees were expected to be able to deal round the clock.

  He answered the phone. ‘Nick! All right, mate? That’s a blast from the past. I thought I’d never speak to another Dekker man again.’

  I explained my situation, and I asked if I could come round and see him.

  ‘Course you can. Come round this afternoon, if you like. It’s not like I’ve got anything to do. Have you got wheels?’

  ‘Only two.’

  ‘Motor- or pushbike?’

  ‘Pushbike, I’m afraid.’

  ‘Well, never mind. Take the tube to Theydon Bois, and give me a ring from the station. I’ll pick you up.’

  Dave met me in an old Ford Escort. We drove through a succession of well-kept suburban roads to a large modern house at the end of a private road. Two ‘For Sale’ signs guarded the short driveway. He fiddled with a remote control to open the doors of a huge empty garage, and then drove the Escort into the middle of it.

  ‘Lots of room for this little car, isn’t there?’

  ‘Don’t,’ said Dave. ‘I had a Porsche 911 I parked just there, and a four-wheel drive just there. And the missus had a little MR2. All gone now.’

  He led me through a door in the garage into the house. ‘Have you met my wife, Teresa?’

  She was big, like Dave, with dyed blonde hair and a wide smile. ‘Hi,’ she said. ‘Do you want a cup of tea?’