Philip Kerr - Hand of God

‘Why don’t you sort those two out?’ he asked Vik. ‘Speak to your friend, Bekim. They ought to shake hands and make up, don’t you agree? For the sake of the team.’

‘Certainly they should. But I leave that kind of thing to Scott here. He is the manager, after all.’

‘I should have thought the solution to the problem was obvious,’ said Kojo. ‘I mean how you can get them to shake hands.’

‘I’m glad you think so,’ I said. ‘Right now they just want to shake each other by the throat. But I welcome any suggestions you might have for how we might establish diplomatic relations.’

‘Easy. Sell Christoph Bündchen. Buy another striker.’

I smiled and shook my head. ‘I don’t think so, Mr Ironsi. Christoph is a very talented young footballer. One of our best players. With an extremely bright future.’

Kojo was a tall man with a bald head and an easy smile. He shrugged. ‘Well then, can you speak to Bekim Develi? Reason with him so that good sense can prevail.’

‘I’ll reason with Bekim if you can reason with Prometheus. To be honest with you, that’s not so easy. What’s more, the boy’s attitude to gay people is going to make him very unpopular with the media, if it hasn’t done so already. I think it would be best if he was to make some sort of statement expressing regret for any offence caused to the LGBT community.’

‘I agree,’ said Kojo. ‘I’ll call him this afternoon, before I fly to Russia. See what I can do.’

‘I’m very glad to hear it. If all that happens I’m sure I can get those two to shake hands.’

‘I’m glad that’s settled,’ said Kojo.

I wasn’t so sure it was but I was willing to give Kojo’s talents as a fixer the benefit of the doubt.

‘You’re going to Russia?’ asked Vik.

‘Yes. It’s possible that someone there might want to take a stake in King Shark, if you don’t.’

If Kojo thought this was a way of sharpening Vik’s interest, then Vik certainly didn’t show it.

‘If you’re going into partnership with Russians then you’d best be careful,’ was all the Ukrainian said. ‘Some of those redfellas are pretty tough customers.’

‘Not particularly ethical, eh?’

‘That’s right.’

‘Thanks for the tip. I certainly appreciate it.’

‘Since you mentioned ethics,’ said Vik, ‘Scott has got some reservations about the very existence of African football academies. Isn’t that right, Scott?’

I shrugged. ‘I suppose I do, really. I think we both know that there are many unlicensed football academies in Africa.’

‘In Accra alone there are at least five hundred such places,’ said Kojo, ‘most of them run by unscrupulous men with no experience of the game. Nearly all demand fees from the children’s parents who take them out of school to enable them to concentrate on football full time. The idea being that having a professional footballer in the family — at least one who plays in Europe — is the equivalent of winning the lottery. Some even sell their family homes in order to pay these fees. Or to pay for boys to come to Europe for a trial with a big club. Which of course never transpires. Yes, it’s very sad what happens.’

‘I don’t say that yours is one of these unlicensed academies,’ I said carefully. ‘But I do ask myself about the way KSA players are contractually tied to you for life.’

Kojo shook his head. ‘A certain amount of due diligence will satisfy you that the King Shark Academy is one of the best academies in Africa. The Confederation of African Football has described the KSA as a model for all football academies. We take no fees, and we offer a proper education alongside football, which is why we have almost a million applications a year from all over the continent for, perhaps, just twenty-five places. So we can afford to take only the most promising boys. But since we ask no fees it seems only fair that we should expect some return on our investment. And to be fair I don’t think you will hear complaints from anyone in the game today who is a product of KSA. Or for that matter any of the three or four academies like it. In fact, Manchester United has just bought a controlling stake in Fortune FC, one of our rival establishments in South Africa. Dutch clubs like Ajax and Feyenoord are looking to do the same in West Africa. The question is, can London City afford not to own a half share in King Shark? You know my price, Vik, and you know what the opportunity amounts to. The future of professional football is in Africa. Those boys are hungry for success. Hungrier than anyone in Europe. Almost by definition.’

Vik nodded. ‘Thank you for your candour, Kojo. And I’ll certainly think about what you’ve said. Listen, I’ve an idea. We have a Champions League match against Olympiacos in Piraeus on 19 August. Why don’t you and your wife come out to Greece as my guest? You can stay on The Lady Ruslana , in the harbour at Piraeus. I’ll give you my decision then.’

‘Thanks, I’d love to,’ said Kojo.

‘You, too, Cooper.’

‘Thanks, Vik,’ said Cooper. ‘I’d like that, too. I’ve never been to a soccer match.’

Kojo, Phil and I left Vik with Cooper Lybrand to discuss an investment in his hedge fund, which Vik’s company was considering. Like many of the people that Vik knew, Cooper was the sort of man I’d have been happy never to see again, especially since he had used the dread word: ‘soccer’. I love America. I even love Americans. But whenever they call football ‘soccer’ I want to kill them. And Cooper Lybrand was no exception to this rule.

I’d eaten far too much and I was glad to be outside.

It was a beautiful warm afternoon and Phil and I strolled up to the Champs-Élysées where he went into Louis Vuitton and bought a bag for his wife, or perhaps his girlfriend. With Phil you could never tell: he was as smooth as the Hermès silk handkerchief that was spilling out of his pocket.

‘Kojo’s a complete crook, of course,’ said Phil. ‘But he’s quite right. We can’t afford not to take a controlling interest in his academy.’

‘I thought he was only willing to sell enough to make Vik his equal partner.’

‘Maybe, but that’s not the way Vik likes to do business. He likes to own things.’

‘So I’d noticed.’

‘He likes to be in control.’

I let that one go. I was beginning to see just how much control Vik wanted to have, over everything.

‘Kojo’s also right about Christoph,’ said Phil. ‘I’m afraid we shall have to sell him before the end of August, Scott. It’s the quickest way to patch up this stupid disagreement between Bekim and Prometheus.’

‘Sell him? You’re joking, aren’t you, Phil? The boy is a future star.’

‘We both know that the only reason Bekim is so persistent about this matter is because he knows that Christoph is gay. Which is perfectly understandable. It’s the comradely thing to do — stick up for a younger player, like that. Admirable, even. Just not practical. We have to make sure that those two get on at all costs.’

‘Why not sell Prometheus? He’s the one who’s caused all this trouble. He’s the one with the attitude problem. Mark my words, if it’s not this it’ll be something else. You said yourself that he’s a pain in the arse. All that business with the car. It’s just the beginning. There’ll be a lot more of that from Prometheus. He makes Mario Balotelli look like the teacher’s pet from the Vienna Boys’ Choir. Vik should never have bought him.’

‘I, for one, should be very happy never to see him again. But we can’t sell him, Scott. Vik wouldn’t hear of it. And so early on after we bought him people would smell a rat. We’d be lucky to get half of what that boy is worth. Christoph is a different story. After some of the goals he’s scored for us and for Germany we stand a very good chance of selling him for a considerable profit. Don’t forget we paid FC Augsburg just four million for him last summer. If we can make the sale before his homosexuality becomes known we might get twenty million quid for him. Perhaps more. Given the situation in the dressing room I don’t think you’ll have too much problem persuading the boy to put in for a transfer. Good for him, and good business for us. Actually this could work out quite well, really. It gives us a real chance of meeting UEFA’s Financial Fair Play guidelines.’