Майкл Ридпат - The Marketmaker

‘What did you expect?’ muttered Isabel.

‘I suppose that’s what I expected. It just takes getting used to.’

‘It’s a dirty business,’ Isabel said. ‘I hoped with this one deal I would finally be able to do something good as well as make money for the House of Dekker. Stupid of me.’ She sighed. ‘Still, there’s no point getting depressed about it. We’ve just got to go on to the next deal. It’s a mistake to question what we do too closely, Nick. You’ll never like the answers.’

I knew she was right. In a perverse way it encouraged me that someone like Isabel, who seemed to share some of my misgivings about the money business, should have found a way to come to terms with it. I found the work at Dekker Ward fascinating, and I was determined to succeed. If Isabel could deal with her conscience, so could I.

But there was still one thing I wanted to ask her.

‘Do you think Dekker is involved in money-laundering?’

She thought for a moment before replying. ‘No, I don’t,’ she said. ‘Ricardo sails very close to the wind, but he knows when to stop. Money-laundering is illegal. It can get you into too much trouble if you’re caught. Ricardo has worked hard to maintain a reputation for being aggressive but always legal, and I don’t think he would jeopardize that.’

I listened to her words closely. She seemed convinced of what she was saying, and I trusted her judgement.

‘Why do you ask? That article in IFR? ’

‘Yes. And there was Jack Langton’s comment about Dekker and the Rio drug gangs,’ I said.

‘I know there’s nothing in that,’ said Isabel. ‘I know everything we do in Brazil.’

‘Well, it’s not just that,’ I said. ‘Do you know Luciana’s maiden name?’

It was a question I had been meaning to ask someone ever since I had spoken to her at Ricardo’s party. With all that had happened over the last week, I hadn’t quite got round to it. Now I wanted to know the answer.

Isabel was puzzled, but she answered my question. ‘Aragão. Luciana Pinto Aragão.’

‘I thought so,’ I said. ‘So her brother is Francisco Aragão?’

‘Yes. That’s right.’

I had guessed as much. The Brazilian financier who had been mentioned in Martin’s fax. The one under investigation by the DEA for drug-related money-laundering activities.

‘What is it, Nick?’ Isabel asked.

I told her about the second fax for Martin Beldecos, and about my suspicion that it had been taken from my desk while I was in Brazil. I also mentioned Eduardo’s insistence that I tell him and only him if I received any more messages for Beldecos.

Isabel listened closely to every word.

‘So what do you think?’ I asked her, when I had finished.

‘I don’t know what to think.’

‘Well, is something going on?’

‘From what you’ve said, yes, there must be. But I still can’t believe Ricardo is involved. It’s not like him.’

‘Francisco Aragão is his brother-in-law.’

‘That’s true. But Ricardo goes to great lengths not to deal with him. It’s a policy I have no trouble with. Francisco has a bad reputation in Brazil. My father told me he’s rumoured to be dealing with the narco-traffickers. Dekker have always steered well clear of him.’

‘In public, yes. But couldn’t Ricardo have set up an account at Dekker Trust in secret?’

Isabel looked doubtful. ‘It would certainly be possible for him to do that easily enough. But I still don’t believe he would. It would be against the way he does business. I know it sounds ridiculous, but Ricardo has his own set of rules, and he never breaks them.’

‘What about Eduardo?’

Isabel thought for a moment. ‘That’s more likely. Eduardo doesn’t believe in any rules.’

‘And he’s responsible for Dekker Trust, isn’t he?’

‘True. It would be easy for him to set something up. There’s just one thing not quite right with that, though.’

‘What’s that?’

‘He and Luciana don’t get on at all.’

‘Hm,’ I said. ‘But this could be a strictly business arrangement. I can imagine Eduardo getting over his dislike of someone for money.’

‘Maybe,’ said Isabel. ‘But he’d know his brother wouldn’t approve.’

‘If he ever found out.’ Our beers were empty. ‘Another?’ I asked.

Isabel nodded distractedly. She was deep in thought over what I had said.

I procured two more Budvars from the bar, and returned. ‘So what should I do?’ I asked, as I took my seat. ‘I haven’t told Eduardo. Jamie says I should just forget the whole thing.’

‘Difficult,’ said Isabel. ‘I think Jamie’s right that you shouldn’t tell Eduardo. There’s too big a chance he’s involved, and then you might get yourself into quite a dangerous situation.’

‘You mean if he knew I suspected him of money-laundering?’ I was concerned I had already got myself into that position already.

‘Yes. But I think I would speak to Ricardo.’

‘Wouldn’t he just tell his brother?’ I protested.

‘He might. But I’d trust him on this. I don’t think he’s involved, and I think he’d want to know.’

Trust Ricardo? I wasn’t quite ready to do that.

‘What about going to the authorities?’ I suggested.

Isabel inhaled through her teeth. ‘Now that’s something Ricardo would never forgive. If you spoke to them without speaking to him first, he’d feel betrayed. And he’d be right. No, I think you should talk to him.’

‘Hm.’

‘What will you do?’ Isabel asked.

‘I’ll think about it,’ I said. And I would. But I was pretty sure now that the wisest thing would be to keep quiet, at least for the time being.

My fears about Martin Beldecos’s death and my own stabbing seemed more grounded. But I didn’t want to discuss them with Isabel. She might think it all a bit melodramatic, and while I could live with looking silly in front of Jamie, I didn’t want to appear paranoid in front of her.

But I did want to ask her about the man whom I was increasingly thinking of as my predecessor.

‘What was Martin Beldecos like?’

‘He was nice enough,’ said Isabel. ‘He was quiet, almost shy. Very dedicated to his work.’

‘He was American, wasn’t he?’

‘That’s right. From Miami. He had worked for one of the branches of the big US banks there, which deal with Latin American private clients.’

‘And do you know what he actually did?’

‘Not precisely. I think technically he was employed by Dekker Trust. He spent half his time here, and half his time in the Caymans. He was working on some project for Eduardo, which he tried to keep confidential, but it obviously had something to do with Dekker Trust. He asked us all about clients of ours who had accounts there.’ Isabel paused. ‘It’s terrible what happened to him. He was only thirty.’

‘Any family?’ I asked.

‘Parents. And a brother and a sister, I think. They’re all in Miami. He wasn’t married or anything.’ She looked at me sharply. ‘And the same thing nearly happened to you.’

I nodded. Now she knew what I was thinking.

‘I’ve left the School of Russian Studies.’

A piece of overdone pork hovered on my fork. I shoved it in my mouth and chewed. And chewed. My mother was not a good cook.

‘Really, dear?’ she said, raising her eyebrows.

‘Good God! When was this?’ thundered my father.

‘About a month ago.’

The obvious question for most families would have been ‘Why didn’t you tell us sooner?’ But not in our family. I had long since stopped discussing anything important with them, and they had stopped expecting it.