by Terry Morgan
CHAPTER 24
Midnight in London and Jonathan Walton had been reminding himself for an hour that he had a home to go to an hour's drive away and a wife who was prone to get upset if he stayed out late. The later it was the more upset she got. But getting away from the Nigerian, Mr Johnson, was proving difficult. The man had changed dramatically from the vague, uncertain individual of their first phone conversation into a talkative, enthusiastic man with only one real interest in life - fraud.
Jonathan's private thoughts as the Nigerian talked on and on were that, during the preceding hour he had done far too good a job on Mr Johnson. Two minutes of a story, invented as he went along, had seemingly convinced the Nigerian that Walton Associates - or a secretive, somewhat unofficial subsidiary of it that had its registered address somewhere offshore like the Cayman Islands - was the key to successfully defrauding the international development aid system. But it had been his deliberate use of jargon that had been so convincing.
"We'll need to describe frameworks that clearly explain our goals and ambitions," Jonathan had said with all seriousness. "We'll need to demonstrate the economic outcomes and economic drivers.......show the benefits to the community at large.........provide evidence of our past experience of achieving alignments with the overall strategy.....we'll need to demonstrate co-ordinated approaches using cross cutting themes..........."
It all smacked of just the sort of public sector bureaucracy that he, Jim Smith and Jan Kerkman had discussed - language written by officials that, it was argued, reduced the likelihood of fraud but only succeeded in making genuinely sophisticated fraud far more difficult to detect. Sophisticated fraud, Jonathan decided, was precisely what Mr Johnson seemed to have in mind..
"And you can do all this, Jon?"
Johnson was smiling enthusiastically at Jonathan's explanation that evidence of delivering other similar projects would be required, but not to worry as a set of falsified company trading accounts and other fictitious or forged pieces of paper were easily the quickest solution. "Of course, that is our business," Jonathan replied, embarrassed but smiling nevertheless.
Mr Johnson - Jacob as he was now required to call him - was still smiling and interrupting throughout. "And we can do all this as well - anything - with your help, of course........We can ensure many cutting schemes...........The benefits to the community are very clear......the people can use the facilities........."
"So are you really going to build this energy efficient leisure complex in Sierra Leone? I was under the impression that....."
"Ha, ha, ha.......no, probably not. But it is up to you to help us and together, well........you know.....this is West Africa. We are used to this sort of thing. Ha Ha."
At that point Jonathan had had his knee loudly slapped by the Nigerian who was, it seemed, enthusiastic enough to sign up with Walton Associates before the night was finished. But he was still talking and Jonathan was still looking at his watch.
"So you will deal with the bid, the paperwork ......the English are so good at this......my friends will deal with the local situation........the letters of support from the Ministry signed by the Minister.....that sort of thing.....no problem......the architects plans, the technical things, anything you need to go with the bid........we will see to that.....we are very good at that.....just ask. Yessah, my brother is a close friend to a big chief in Sokoto. The chief has a wife in Sierra Leone - it is his fourth wife but he is willing to help us. His wife, the one from Sierra Leone, is a Minister and she can pull strings. We may need some cash to start it off ...... just a bit of dash here and there you know...... but my other brother will have a small stake in the project...... my other brother will pay some money to oil the wheels.......we need the bank involved.......but this is also already sorted.....the manager is a friend of....."
Jonathan had already lost the plot, but finally Mr Johnson edged his bulk to the back of his chair and sighed. Is that it? Jonathan thought. Has he finished at last? If so, it was his, Jonathan's, turn again and he'd now have to perform even better. Jonathan needed to show he was not a pushover and that the mysterious subsidiary of Walton Associates would not be taken for a ride by a bunch of African rogues. There had to be a show of toughness to suggest there was, despite everything, a need for at least an ounce of respect.
"So," Jonathan said before Johnson had time to start again. "Shall we wrap this up, Mr Johnson - Jacob? I need to get home or my wife will think I've been out in Soho not sat in Gloucester Road......."
He was interrupted almost before he had begun. "Ha, ha. Yes, there will be time for that Jonathan," - his knee was slapped again - "We'll have a good time when it is finished. It is my promise. My girl friend in Brixton......"
"Yes, of course," Jonathan interrupted, but intrigued by the word promise. "So to summarise. You will provide me with the details of your consultant in Freetown and the other details I asked for. We have agreed to bid for thirty five million Euros under the so called EAWA Economic Aid funding which I am familiar with. Don't forget that this must include a written promise of three point five million Euros from your friends in the Ministry to demonstrate the Ministry's own commitment to the project. No money will ever need to be transferred of course - it is just for the paperwork, you understand - to demonstrate the project has received official Government recognition and support."
"Yes, yes, good, good." said Jacob Johnson, smiling broadly.
It was no surprise to Jonathan that he was not asked for details of the fictitious subsidiary that he was proposing to use as part of the fraud, but he was pleased with the name he had invented on the spur of the moment. He might sort that out first thing in the morning but only after he'd slept on the night's events.
"My subsidiary, JWS Projects," Jonathan went on, "will act as your advisers, prepare the bid and deal with all the questions and requests for further information that are bound to arise. They always do. For this, you have agreed to pay JWS Projects two hundred thousand Euros when the bid goes in and a further two hundred thousand Euros when the funds are transferred and are in safe hands in Sierra Leone. These amounts can be added to the total bid - it is quite legitimate to show these sorts of expenses, although we may disguise them a little. Are we both agreed?"
"That is it - exactly. That is it."
Johnson's reply was hardly a sign that official agreements, signed, witnessed and legalised, were to form any part of this relationship but Jonathan let it pass.
It was one thirty by the time he slipped into the warm bed alongside his wife, Claire, and put his cold arm around her. There was no reaction, but Jonathan's mind was on other things. Despite the hour, he was still wide awake. Something had happened tonight that might add another dimension to what Jan Kerkman was already doing and the idea growing in his mind would need Jan's help. But he also desperately wanted to speak to Jim.
At 5am he could wait no longer. He got up and emailed Jim to suggest another meeting.
