Robert Young - Gatecrasher

‘Don’t start getting clever son.’

‘Look, George. I don’t want this fucking thing alright?’ he snapped. ‘I don’t want any of this to be happening but you aren’t the only person after this are you? And it seems to me that if I just hand it over to you then I might end up upsetting somebody else instead. So humour me.’

There was a pause on the line and Campbell started to sweat. This was a dangerous man he was annoying. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.

‘OK. Listen up. Since I can’t fucking find you I can hardly threaten you. It looks like you have the advantage, so I’ll ask nice.’ His tone had actually softened much to Campbell’s surprise. ‘That memory stick is worth a fair bit of money. I owe a fair bit of money to a very unpleasant man called Frank Walker who has decided that to make sure I pay him back, he has kidnapped my daughter.’

Campbell wasn’t sure what to make of this. There was no reason to trust the man and every reason to assume that this was some new ruse to get his hands on what he wanted. But there was something in his voice that made Campbell wonder.

‘You’ve met her actually,’ Gresham continued. ‘Just before we met, she lent Slater a bit of a hand convincing you to come along and see me.’

The pretty girl on his doorstep when Slater had first appeared. Angie he’d called her.

‘Family business George. Heart warming,’ he said.

‘Mmmn,’ the response sounded distant, distracted. Perhaps he wasn’t making this up. Certainly if Gresham was just the courier, just moving the stick from one place to another it made a little more sense.

‘Look George, that may be true or you may be spinning me a line. I don’t really care so long as I can back out of this mess without anybody getting hurt and just forget about the whole thing. Tell me what you know. I mean, even if you get off my back I still have whoever it was tried to off me the other night to contend with and at the moment that’s more scary than you are.’

A pause. ‘I didn’t have anything to do with that. Frankly, I’m not about to go chucking my weight around like that on someone like you.’

‘My ribs would disagree.’

‘Shut up. You’ve had worse than that in the playground. Now this is what I know. We did some job a week or so ago, which is what that memory stick is all about. Not usually our thing but the money was good — and like I said, I have a debt to pay off. The job was easy and we had pretty clear directions about what to collect. Problem was, one of the boys got his boat clocked by the cameras and it all started looking a lot nastier than we expected. So we took steps.’

‘I think you may have mentioned my gatecrasher before.’

‘Right. Not particularly proud of it but self defence really. Anyway, seems that the stick has something on it that should be kept quiet and we weren’t the only ones worried about getting caught with our pants down. Which explains this other guy trying to off you.’

‘I’m not seeing any great reason to trust you yet George.’

‘I guess not. But believe me, I didn’t want that to happen. I need the stick and to be honest, it’s a fucking shame you’ve got caught up in this. You seem like a decent enough lad but this whole thing has got way, way out of control.’

‘Thanks a lot,’ Campbell replied, unable to check his sarcasm.

‘Bottom line is, I just need the stick to get Angie back. That’s all I give a shit about now.’

‘This chap you were working for, he sent someone after me, right?

‘Yes.’

‘He still after me? I mean is he planning to send someone else?’

A pause before he spoke. ‘I think you can assume he won’t be happy to hear that you’re still around.’

‘If I let you have this memory stick George, can you call him off?’

Silence.

‘George?’

‘Yes. Yes sure.’

It was a lie and Campbell knew it immediately.

‘I’ll call you back.’

Monday. 4pm.

Sitting at the table with the two ministers from the DfID Geoffrey Asquith was finding it increasingly hard to concentrate on the task at hand.

As they examined the dossiers and tender documents from the various companies vying for the construction contracts, it was becoming ever more clear just how much weaker the ones he had been instructed to choose were than the others.

Having had so little time to really chew over the proposition that had been put to him he was trying to continue his work as if nothing were wrong. But every time one of the other men highlighted a particular feature or benefit of one of the stronger tenders it felt as if they were just rubbing it in. He wanted to shout; Yes, I get it! I understand!

‘Are you OK Minister?’ one of them asked. He must look distracted.

‘Sorry? Oh, yes. Fine. Lots on, you know.’

‘I hope you don’t mind me saying but you don’t look at all well.’

Asquith was a little taken aback hearing this from the younger man. He looked at the other whose expression told him he agreed.

‘Can I get you a glass of water?’ said the first man helpfully.

‘No, no. That’s…’ He was about to say it was quite alright but stopped and then excused himself. In the bathroom he stood at the sink and gazed in the mirror. They had been quite correct; he looked dreadful. His skin was pallid and his eyes dark and a thin sheen of sweat glistened along his hairline and lip.

That telephone call had hit him harder than he thought.

Shortly he was back in his office alone again. His effusive apologies had been waved away by the junior men as they left, insistent that it was no problem and they just hoped he felt better soon. He was a busy man and shouldn’t overdo it. His secretary had dutifully, if a little reluctantly, cleared his diary for the afternoon and he had told her that he would be leaving shortly because he was feeling unwell and should she wish to leave early she was welcome to do so.

When he was sitting in traffic on his way out of town he made a brief call and then told the cab driver to make a detour and pick someone up. They both got out at Asquith’s home in Hampstead and began to walk the quiet streets near the Heath.

‘Has something happened?’ said Horner. The effort of remaining silent throughout the entire journey seemed to have taken its toll on him.

‘You might say that. You have put me in an extremely awkward position Michael. Extremely awkward.’

‘I’m sorry Geoffrey, I never wanted to involve you.’

‘Well you have! I had a call this afternoon. It’s an insider-trading scam, Michael. Whoever they are, they are trying to set up an insider-trading scam.’

‘What? That’s insane.’

‘Not really. I am currently in charge of a Hydroelectric Dam project that our overseas aid department is part-funding. As is usual, these contracts will probably go to British contractors to build the thing. I’m sure you’re familiar with this type of deal.’

‘Well construction is not my area and nor is Asia but I have an idea.’

‘Yes, well they have kindly informed me exactly which firms they want the contracts to be awarded to.’

‘Incredible!’ Horner looked surprised. ‘How can they ever imagine they’ll get away with it?’

‘Michael please. That seems plain enough.’

‘Well perhaps it’s the firms themselves. I mean, maybe they all have ties to one another? Organised crime, front-companies, that sort of thing?’

‘I’m not really interested Michael to be perfectly honest with you. I don’t really give a shit,’ Asquith hissed, momentarily losing his cool. ‘The point is it’s extremely corrupt and illegal and will probably mean my job, my reputation and my livelihood.’