Layers of Deception

by Leo James

  Glen shook his head and breathed out deeply. 'Boy, does he love the sound of his own voice. Mad, eh?'

  'Yes, and he has left me with the bloody bill.' Steve unclenched his fists.

  But who cares.

  'We've got the deal.'

  'Yes.' Steve lurched to his feet and thrust his fists in the air. 'Another beer.'

  Two beers later, Steve relaxed for the first time in many months.

  Glen beamed. 'Let's go celebrate. Hanky Panky.'

  'I'm shattered. Let's get the contract signed and then we can celebrate.' Steve clasped his hands behind his neck and leaned back.

  'I'm going to the Beach Bar to meet up with Lloyd Dodd. Come along, you deserve a good time. No brainer.'

  'No, Glen. You go, but don't forget we meet at Q7 at noon tomorrow. Let’s meet in the lobby at ten-thirty. We can grab a coffee and prep before we head over.’ Steve yawned.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Wednesday 11th February

  THE FOLLOWING MORNING, GLEN snapped awake. 'What's the time? I don't remember coming back to my room,’ he said aloud.

  A petite oriental woman lay on her back next to him in the bed, still asleep, with the absolute relaxation of a small child. Her long, jet-black hair rested on the pillow. Her features were small: tiny ears, dainty nose, and sharp glossy cheekbones. The white bedsheet revealed delicate shoulders and one small breast, its pastel pink nipple in view.

  The woman opened her eyes, squinted at her surroundings and stretched. 'Mr Glen, did you sleep OK?'

  'Who are you?' he said in a crocked voice.

  'Do you want to go to breakfast?' She rested her head on his shoulder and moved her hand across his bare chest.

  'Who are you?’ Bug-eyed, he rubbed the sleep from his face.

  She smiled and drew nearer.

  'Oh yes, I remember. Ah, at the Beach Club Bar last night. Great stuff.' Glen hopped out of the bed, stepped back, and stood naked whilst pulling the sheet to cover his crown jewels.

  She slipped out of the bed and walked towards him, naked other than a lotus flower clipped to her hair. 'I am Mai which means “Angel” in English. Lovely time together, Mr Glen. You want me to shower you?'

  'Shit. No, No! Get dressed, please. I must go. Right now.' His voice spiked. He was in a rush to make the pre-meeting with Steve to discuss the signing of the Q7 contracts.

  'OK, Mr Glen. You want me to come back later?'

  Her pale blue silk dress and white panties lay in a heap on the carpet. She walked over to retrieve her clothes, dressed and pulled on her white knee high patent leather boots.

  'Yes. I'll call you. Cushty. Got to run to an important meeting.'

  'I love to meet you later, Mr Glen.'

  He fiddled with his trousers. 'Here, take this to buy breakfast and something. I'll meet you tonight. What about the Cuban Bar? No brainer.' He handed her a five-hundred-ringgit note retrieved from the wallet in his trouser pocket. As he pulled on the first leg he almost fell over trying to put his trousers on.

  Mai accepted the note, bowed, opened her bag and handed Glen a piece of paper. 'I give you my number. You call me.'

  He ushered her out of his hotel room and grabbed his iPhone to facetime Steve. 'Hi mate,' Glen said with a hoarse voice.

  'Where are you?' Steve barked.

  'Sorry, delayed. I'll take a quick shower and meet you downstairs. I won’t be long. Cushty. Say fifteen minutes?'

  'Mark and David are here with me in the hotel lobby.'

  'OK, meet you downstairs.'

  ######

  Steve remained pensive, desperate to get the contract agreed and start the money flow.

  'Come into my office. Take a seat.' Farid beckoned the Seguro team. They sat opposite Farid. Anthony Suppiah from finance sat alongside the large desk.

  'Help yourself to drinks,' Farid instructed as he swivelled around in his plush leather chair. His office window afforded a superb frame around the iconic Petronas Towers with a good view towards the SkyBridge which spanned the forty-first floor between the Petronas Twin Towers.

  He pressed a speed dial on his desk phone. 'Hi Anil, can you bring the specification and the Seguro order to my office? Steve and his team are here.' Farid stood up, then paced back and forth from his desk to the large office window opposite. 'OK. We are under a non-disclosure agreement so what we discuss and agree today is confidential. As a leading electronic payment service for online goods and services in Asia, we serve over one hundred thousand retail locations across six countries, with mobile payment and electronic delivery channels which accept major credit cards. Now, this feature is important. We plan to extend our services to grow into a global technology leader for smartphone and PC transactions. Users will send amounts to anyone anywhere in the world, with their smartphone. We want to launch mobile top-up, a wallet for fund transfers within and across foreign borders to mobile operators, banks and retailers. We are aiming for two hundred and fifty million subscribers using Q7 and to develop into the world leader in mobile online payments. Can you implement and handle the volume required, using your solution, within the next two months?' He stopped pacing, turned and looked straight at Steve.

  Holy shit, WOW!

  'Yes, we can roll this out within two months. David, OK?' Steve looked for support.

  After a short silence David lifted his hand. 'As long as we receive maximum cooperation from the Q7 team, and our full in-house team to implement the system and process. Yes.'

  Right answer. Thank God David is at the meeting. Relieved, Steve wanted to jump up, shout “Yes!”, and phone Beth, but instead he tried to stay calm and collected. Steve shot a look across towards Glen, David and Mark, who remained very calm under the circumstances.

  Anil entered the room, shook hands with each member of the Seguro team, and handed the documents to Farid. 'I guess the specification is for you David?’ he said as he handed him the implementation document.

  'Yes. Mark and I discussed the specification with Anil and his team. We can complete the programme requirements with minor modifications to our standard solution,' David responded.

  Anil and Mark nodded in agreement.

  'Now for the commercial terms.' Farid's eyes squeezed into thin slits. 'Q7's responsibility for the project includes computer hardware, network, resources, and roll out of the solution across our infrastructure. Your responsibilities include delivery and installation of the payment software, configured to our requirements and twenty-four by seven support. Are you in agreement?'

  'Yes.' Steve nodded.

  'Our proposal is to share the revenue between us. You get zero-point-two-five of a percent per transaction. Are you OK with shared revenue?' Farid bowed and smiled.

  Steve shuffled in his seat. 'Our standard contract terms include a licence to use our software, but we are open to share the revenue as we grow. In addition, detailed timelines, modification and implementation costs for the project.'

  Farid leaned forward and set his hands on the table, palms up. 'No, no, Steve, you misunderstand me. This is a shared risk venture. We are a success and you are a success. You offer the software and the support. Q7's infrastructure and resources are in place, and we share the risk.'

  Although the air conditioning boomed out cold air, perspiration caused Steve to reach for his handkerchief to mop his forehead and neck. They needed money now to help keep the company in business. 'Can we agree on a basic cost of modifications paid by Q7 for the work completed?'

  'If we cannot partner in the way I described, we cannot move forward. I am taking a huge risk on you. Our financial credit checks show problems with Seguro finances. I overruled our financial director because I like you, and I believe in you. Our plan is to grow to over one billion transactions per month by the end-of-year three. You can do the maths. I am sure we will buy your company before you reach this target.' Farid paused. 'Show commitment, Steve. Show backbone. I like you.'

  Anil leaned back in his chair, crossed his legs and pointed his pen tow
ards Steve. 'Even if transactions average only one US dollar, you will receive two and a half million dollars per month, and transactions should be much higher.'

  That’s thirty million dollars a year. It would value us at over three hundred million dollars based on the price-earnings ratio for the IT industry. Fucking hell! Q7 would pay half a billion for us. Roger will kill me, but we must complete the deal.

  He wanted to phone Beth – now. 'Deal. We are looking forward to making this an international success.' He tried to stay as calm as possible.

  'Excellent, my friend.' Farid grinned. 'Anthony will draw up a basic contract.' Anthony nodded. He continued, 'I am sure our trust in you will make us successful together. Now the real work starts. Two months to get this show on the road, as you say in England.'

  Farid shook hands with each of the Seguro team as they followed Anil out of Farid's office to the elevators and down to the lobby. They handed over their badges to security and exchanged pleasantries with Anil before leaving the building.

  'Over here.' Steve motioned as a taxi pulled up alongside. They jumped in and he instructed the driver, 'Concorde please, Concorde Hotel.' He sat back in the seat, laid the back of his head on the headrest, raised his arms, took a deep breath in and out, then said, 'We did it! We did it! Q7, eh? We did it!'

  ######

  Once they got back to the hotel, Steve returned to his room to call Roger Slater, Seguro's Financial Director, Company Secretary and first significant investor. Roger retired in his early fifties after selling his engineering business. Successful over the years in various industries, he was happy to come out of early retirement to embark on the adventure of making one last attempt to impact the world. He was overjoyed to hear they had won the deal.

  A relieved Steve continued, 'Yes, they want to share the revenue. We get zero-point-two-five of a percent per transaction.'

  Roger paused for a moment and said, 'So, we get paid for the software licence and a revenue share on top?'

  Steve drew in a long breath. 'No, pure revenue share, using Q7's hardware and resources for the implementation and roll out of the solution across their infrastructure.'

  Roger paused again. 'We need to negotiate this further. We must get money up front. What are the timescales for revenue?'

  Steve hesitated, his breath quickened. 'No, this deal or nothing. Farid has put his neck on the line for us. We should generate revenue within two months, or sooner if Mark and David can work their magic. Q7 want to increase to one billion transactions per month, two and a half million dollars per month to Seguro.'

  Roger sounded concerned. 'The overheads and loan repayments are over ninety grand per month. And don't forget expenses. Are we going to ship part of the team to Malaysia? Another twenty grand at least for flights, hotels, and keeping them fed. If we take two months before launch, and another month to generate revenue, we are looking at a further two hundred and ninety grand needed for the three months before we get any revenue.'

  'Yes, but the revenue opportunity is huge.' Steve twitched his right eye.

  'But not guaranteed? We must get extra funding from Antonio Zefron and Cliff Lin.' Roger groaned.

  Steve shook his head. 'If we’d funded the company in the first place, we wouldn't keep diluting the hell out of our shares to keep the business going. We win a contract which will ramp up to two point five million dollars per month, and we are disappointed.'

  'Not guaranteed, Steven.'

  'Don't call me Steven. You sound like a headmaster.'

  'I'm concerned.'

  'You didn't deliver. Your investment ended up going pear-shaped, so you didn't invest what you promised.' Steve rubbed his forehead.

  Roger raised his voice. 'Nobody predicted the investment would get tied up in US lawsuits and corruption by a few bastards.'

  'We found new investors who made crazy demands and didn't give us a fraction of the money pledged. And now you're putting pressure on me. Big time,’ Steve shouted.

  'We've been over this many times, Steve. I got Antonio's investment. No excuses.'

  'This is a concrete signed contract.' Steve raked his fingers through his hair.

  'You can guarantee nothing. I need to sell this to Antonio and Cliff. Meanwhile, we need the staff in the UK and Malaysia to be behind this push.'

  'I'll scan and email the order over to you. Farid is producing a simple contract which he will send over for review,' Steve said.

  'OK, I’ll ask the solicitor to review it and we’ll get it signed.'

  'I'll send out an announcement to the staff on email today. It’s positive and timely. Listen… sorry, I’ve got to go. I'm meeting with Mark and David. Talk later.’ Steve ended the call before Roger replied.

  Fuck you, Roger!

  Steve stripped naked, switched the air conditioning to maximum setting and jumped into the shower. He needed to calm down.

  Refreshed, he slipped his shorts on, sat back in the black leather lounge chair and called Beth on FaceTime from his iPad.

  'Hi,' Steve smiled.

  'Hello love, everything OK?'

  'Yes, my darling. Great news. We've won the deal with Q7,' Steve announced wearing a huge grin on his face as he puffed out his chest.

  'Oh, that's great for you.' Her voice broke lower.

  Beth looked tired. 'You OK?' Steve could see her hair was untidy. Her gaze seemed unfocussed, perhaps preoccupied by something.

  'I'm OK love. Things are getting me down. I can’t wait to relax on a sun-lounger. Just tired. I’m fine. Oh…I’ve painted the old charm dining table.’

  ‘Painted it?’ Steve smiled.

  ‘Yes, I’ve upcycled it using chalk paint. A lovely creamy grey. I’m pleased. Just need to paint the chairs.’

  ‘No wonder you’re tired, love. You amaze me,’ Steve said,’ Can you ping me over a picture?’

  ‘OK. It transforms the table. I’m really pleased with the new look,’ Beth said.

  'We’ll be on that beach soon. Only need a few months to get money rolling in and we can pay everything off and more.' Steve smiled.

  'Oh OK, so not yet. A few more hurdles?'

  'Have I ever let you down?' He tried to make light of the conversation.

  'Yes! Do you want a list?' she said in a mocking voice.

  'We can send a copy of the order to the bank and I'm sure they'll hold off on the house and let us delay the mortgage until the money comes in from the deal.'

  'Oh, good. Hope so.'

  'I'll sort out everything. Miss you and the kids. Oh, and Millie. How's Kate?'

  'She has asthma.' Beth wore a sad and tired expression.

  'Asthma. Is she OK? What did Doctor Harris say?'

  'Inhalers and he referred her to a consultant.'

  'How long is the wait?'

  'National Health Service list. Pity. Remember when we took private health cover for granted? Not now.' Beth slouched.

  'I'll get the money. We'll go private.' Steve tried to sound as positive as possible.

  'Doctor said the inhalers should help.'

  'Is Kate OK using them? What if she gets an attack?' Worry lined his forehead.

  ‘She knows what to do if she gets chest tightness or shortness of breath.'

  'Will she carry an inhaler at school?'

  'Yes, and the office store them for emergencies.’

  'Poor love. Give her a big kiss for me. Can't wait to get back home on Friday. I don't enjoy travelling alone and waking up in a strange hotel bed without you.' Steve lowered his head.

  'Well done on the new deal.'

  'Thanks, Beth. I hope you can get some rest and feel a lot better. I'll ring tomorrow and talk to the kids. Love you.'

  'Love you,' Beth said before Steve ended the FaceTime call.

  ######

  Steve met David, Mark and Glen in the hotel bar. They gathered around the complementary buffet and devoured a few beers, except for David who sipped Pepsi. Steve thrust his arms into the air. 'We should celebrate. We're heroes! Where s
hall we go?'

  'I'm meeting Lloyd at the Cuban Bar tonight and going on a date. You know what I mean?' Glen had a mischievous look plastered on his face.

  Mark winked. 'You and Lloyd, I would never have guessed.’

  Glen smiled. 'Yes funny, mate. He's more your type.' He scoffed.

  Mark smirked. 'Yes, he is. For sure. Just my type.'

  Steve persuaded Glen to go and eat first. They agreed to go to Chinatown.

  David looked bemused. 'We've eaten.'

  Glen stood up, put his two mobiles, cigarettes and lighter in his pockets. ‘That was only a snack. Come on David, let your hair down. Cushty.'

  When outside the hotel, Glen gestured to the bellboy to order a taxi that dropped them outside Hutong on Petaling Street. Steve loved the allure of the night market, as they wandered along enjoying its sights, sounds and energy. Not an easy task, given the humidity and local passion for cars and motorbikes. They strolled along the busy street in Kuala Lumpur's Chinatown, pavements covered with ubiquitous plastic tables and chairs, the illuminated Chinese lanterns overhead and the road filled with stalls selling every type off Malaysian cuisine imaginable. As they passed the Sri Maha Mariamman Temple, the stalls selling garlands of sweet smelling jasmine, and the strong aroma of Chinese traditional herbs wafted through the air from across the street. All this was at odds with the backdrop of modern skyscrapers dominating the capital's skyline.

  They arrived at Wong Ah Wah, a restaurant covering five shop fronts along Jalan Alor, a short walk from the shiny heart of the city's shopping district. In one corner, a man presided over a charcoal-heated grill, preparing Wong Ah Wah's celebrated chicken wings. Nearby, a young woman produced lamb, chicken and beef satay. Glen ordered for the group: a meze of roast stingray; tangy, sour chilli sambal; chicken wings; dry mutton; peratal curry; tangy, citric fish curry and a round of beers.

  After several beers Steve was a little light-headed, but comforted himself that the large quantity of food consumed would soak up the beers. And anyway, he deserved to celebrate the big win at last.