Piers Venmore-Rowland - Latent Hazard

The stark overhead light gave no warmth and just provided glare. It was getting to him. Its rays penetrated remorselessly into his eyes. He closed them. The illumination did not go away. It was as if the bulb had been doctored to give maximum discomfort. He was tired, but he had to keep his brain working. He had to think carefully. The only logical conclusion he could reach was that somebody had set him up. But what might he have done to make someone go to all that trouble? Nothing in his life, neither private nor professional, sprang to mind as being particularly unusual. At work things had been pretty normal… Except for the research Callum and he had been pursuing. So by process of elimination that had to be at the top of the list.

The thud of the cell door opening caught him by surprise.

‘You’re wanted again,’ growled the guard.

‘Jump to it you little oik! Time to be on parade!’ he shouted when he noticed that Rafi wasn’t in a hurry to follow him.

The guard wore irritability in his brutal face and didn’t try to hide his hatred for Rafi.

‘Get up you little sod. I bet they want your balls for dinner.’

Rafi winced as he was pulled forcefully to his feet and pushed back down the corridor. He was stuck in a nightmare.

‘You said that you didn’t know the Bishopsgate bomber, Imaad Wafeeq. So why did he have one of your?20 notes in his pocket when he died? Let’s see you wriggle your way out of this one!’ barked Mike.

‘Yes, go on!’ said Andy. ‘And remember, we have proof that the?20 note was from the sequence you took from the cashpoint… Three policemen so far have lost their lives and two others are in intensive care.’

Rafi did not answer.

‘Speak up! You knew the bomber, didn’t you?’

Rafi remained silent.

‘Playing the innocent, are we?’ interjected Mike.

‘Do you think that we are stupid or something?’ asked Andy. ‘I am waiting for a reply.’

‘Can I have a lawyer?’

‘No you frigging well can’t!’ came the retort from Mike. ‘The likes of you forfeit all their rights. You don’t get a lawyer until you’ve been charged, and that could be weeks away.’

The questions rained down… ‘Who else? Why? and What are you planning next?’ Rafi’s lack of helpful answers was seriously annoying Mike and Andy.

‘We haven’t got all bloody day. Start talking or we will get real mean.’ Mike’s dark eyes narrowed and stared threateningly, just inches away from Rafi.

Rafi’s brain was in turmoil.

‘Talk!’ ordered Mike threateningly.

‘We have two cast-iron pieces of evidence against you. The CCTV footage and the?20 note. Case closed! We keep you here for weeks, break you, get your confession, have the courts lock you up and then throw away the keys,’ said Andy.

‘With the evidence we’ve got on you, you’ve become invisible and the system doesn’t give a bloody monkeys!’ added Mike.

‘But I’m innocent, I tell you. All I can think of is I stumbled on something at work, which upset some people,’ said Rafi.

‘Like what?’ snapped Mike.

‘Breaking the City rules on takeovers,’ replied Rafi.

‘What?’ burst out Andy.

‘Bullshit!’ Mike’s manner was becoming increasingly intolerant.

‘We want to know about the bomber and what his colleagues are planning next. Not about some poncey City insider dealing scam,’ said Andy.

‘Be very clear there’ll be no respite. We’ll hound you night and day. We will win and you will lose,’jeered Mike.

Rafi felt sick with fear. His stomach churned. What was he caught up in? The evidence against him was impressive and the only explanation he could find was that someone had gone to a significant amount of trouble to implicate him. But why? All he could think of was the research that Callum and he had been working on, but what the hell was the link?

‘Are you going to talk?’ asked Andy.

‘Or do we let you rot forever?’ added Mike.

How long would it be before they started getting really rough? Soon, thought Rafi. He sensed their physical aggression bubbling just below the surface.

‘Make a start and tell us how you were financing the bomber, Imaad Wafeeq,’ said Andy.

‘I wasn’t.’

‘Get real!’ shouted Mike.

‘I think I’ve been set up,’ replied Rafi. ‘At least hear me out.’

There was silence. ‘OK,’ said Andy finally, ‘But it had better be good.’

‘I stumbled upon some information that suggested my employers, Prima Terra, and a group of Luxembourg investors were in serious breach of the City takeover code.’

‘Go on,’ said Andy, looking nonplussed.

‘Thursday before last, I received a phone call from, Callum Burns, a financials analyst at Landin Young. He’s fantastically good at his job and I’ve been one of his best clients. He wanted to talk about Renshaw Smithers, a niche finance business in which my company, Prima Terra, is a major investor, but he didn’t want to have the discussion over the phone, so we met for a drink at a local bar that evening.’

‘And?’ asked Mike.

‘How much do you know about fund managers?’

‘They look after other peoples’ money,’ replied Andy.

‘At Prima Terra we have?30 billion of funds under management, of which I manage?4 billion of equities. It was quite a bit more, but we too got caught by the 2008 stock market crash. Have you heard of the Stock Exchange Blue Book?’ asked Rafi.

Both Andy and Mike shook their heads.

‘It’s the rule book governing company shareholdings and takeovers, by which as fund managers we have to abide.’

‘Obviously,’ said Mike sarcastically, ‘But damn it! Why is this relevant?’

‘Callum thought Prima Terra had possibly broken the rules. He said he’d found something very dubious that was being hushed up.’

‘I still do not see how this relates to the bombing,’ said Mike, thrusting his jaw forward at Rafi. ‘If you’re taking us for a ride, remember we can make life seriously uncomfortable for you.’

‘Callum suspected that Renshaw Smithers and another listed company Dewoodson were being controlled by unknown offshore investors and thought there might be a connection to Prima Terra – the largest investor in these two companies.’

Mike raised his arms and was about to cut Rafi off.

‘Before you throw the keys away, what’s the harm in hearing me out?’ pleaded Rafi. ‘Callum and I couldn’t come up with any reasons why these companies might be worth controlling. They are unexciting and hardly takeover candidates,’ replied Rafi. ‘But there has to be something, otherwise why incriminate me?’

‘You’re not making any sense and why are you pissing around wasting our time?’ Mike thumped his fist on the table centimetres away from Rafi.

‘So this is a red herring,’ interrupted Andy.

No, I don’t think so. These shareholdings when added together break all the rules. And there has to be a reason why I was set up.’

‘You’re taking the piss,’ said Mike. ‘Sounds to me as if you’re just trying to distract us from your links to the bomber. Bullshit isn’t what we need.’

Rafi looked at Mike’s frustrated eyes. ‘Whatever I say, you are not interested, are you?’

‘Sod off back to your cell. We’ll deal with you shortly,’ growled Mike irritably. ‘Your time is running out. We’ll break you and you will want to talk to us very soon.’

Their lack of interest in his story and Mike glowering inches away from him made the knots in Rafi’s guts clench even tighter.

Fifteen or so minutes later, Rafi’s cell door swung open. A man in catering uniform entered. ‘I’ve got some food for you. Where d’you want it?’

To Rafi’s surprise, the tray fell to the floor. He bent down to help pick it up. With the speed and strength of a black belt, the man let fly a kick. It struck Rafi just below his left shoulder blade and was followed by a punch to the kidneys. Doubled up, Rafi slumped to the floor.