‘I see.’ Ricardo had woven a compliance web that it was nobody’s job to untangle.
‘So, they keep a watching brief. As long as money isn’t being laundered in London, which it isn’t strictly speaking, there’s not much more they’ll do.’
‘And what about the police?’
‘Not much better. If I can come up with a “suspicious transaction”, they’ll bung it on a computer somewhere. Apparently they have banks reporting hundreds of dodgy transactions all the time.’
I thought all this over. ‘Last month I came across a fax for Martin Beldecos from the United Bank of Canada. It said that the US DEA are investigating Francisco Aragão and that they’d traced a payment from him to Dekker Trust. Maybe they’ll tie him in with Dekker. He is Ricardo’s brother-in-law, after all.’
‘Francisco Aragão, eh?’ Dave rubbed his chin. ‘Well, that would make sense. He sounds very dodgy.’ He sighed. ‘You could try telling them, I suppose, but don’t hold your breath.’ Dave saw my frown. ‘The best thing to do is to forget it, Nick. There’s nothing you or I can do to get back at Dekker. Look, when I get my pub, will you come in for a drink?’
‘Of course,’ I said. ‘If you let me know where it is.’
‘I’ll do that.’
I stood up to leave. Dave gave me a lift to the station. As I was getting out of the car, he called to me. ‘Nick?’
‘Yes.’
‘Be careful. When Dekker Ward have it in for you, they can get nasty.’
‘I will.’ I smiled grimly, shut the door, and turned into the station.
Despite Dave’s scepticism about the DEA, I thought it worth trying them. Now I had left Dekker there was nothing to lose. So, doing my best to ignore the damage it would do to my phone bill, I asked International Directory Enquiries for the number of United Bank of Canada in the Bahamas, and dialled it. I soon got through to Donald Winters.
‘Good morning. It’s Nick Elliot here, from Dekker Ward in London. I’m a colleague of Martin Beldecos’s.’
‘Oh, yes. What can I do to help you, Mr Elliot?’
Luckily, it seemed that Winters hadn’t heard about Martin’s death.
‘You sent a fax to Martin last month mentioning that you had linked a payment to our Caymans affiliate with Francisco Aragão.’
‘That’s right. That was something to do with a lawyer called Tony Hempel, wasn’t it?’
‘I think so. You said something about Francisco Aragão being under investigation by the US Drugs Enforcement Agency?’
‘Yeah. I’m not sure what became of that. We haven’t heard anything more from them. But I can give you the number of my contact there if you’re interested.’
I wrote down the name and number, thanked Winters, and hung up.
I dialled the new number. It was somewhere in the United States, but I wasn’t familiar with the city code so I didn’t know exactly where.
The phone was picked up on the first ring. ‘Donnelly.’
‘Good morning. This is Nicholas Elliot from Dekker Ward in London. Donald Winters at United Bank of Canada gave me your name.’
‘Oh, yeah.’
‘I have some information relating to Francisco Aragão, who I believe you’re investigating.’
‘Shoot.’
So I told him about Martin’s fax, Martin’s death, and my own attack. I could hear the scribbling on the other end of the line.
‘Do you have a copy of this fax?’ Donnelly asked.
‘No, but you can get the information from Donald Winters if you need it.’
‘OK.’ More scribbling. ‘Have you reported your suspicions about this Martin Beldecos’s murder, or the assault on you?’
‘No,’ I said. ‘I’m not sure who to talk to about it.’
‘I understand. Well, thank you very much for the information Mr, ah, Elliot. Can you give me a number where I can reach you?’
I gave him my home number. But I didn’t want him to disappear without telling me what he was going to do.
‘Are you going to investigate this?’ I asked.
There was a moment’s pause, a pause of impatience.
‘This may be useful intelligence, Mr Elliot. We are pursuing a number of investigations at the present time, and this might help us.’
‘But will you investigate Dekker?’ I asked, unable to keep the exasperation from my voice.
‘I’m sorry, I can’t disclose who or what we’re investigating. But thank you for the information, Mr Elliot, and we know where we can reach you. Now, goodbye.’
I put down the phone. I was disappointed. I supposed I had hoped that squads of agents would fly out to London immediately to question Ricardo and Eduardo. But that obviously wasn’t going to happen.
I tried to think of it from the DEA’s point of view. They probably had a target in mind. Perhaps it was Francisco Aragão. Presumably they would use any information they could to help them nail that target, but they wouldn’t necessarily allow themselves to be sidetracked by suspicions that were, I had to admit, unsubstantiated.
In some ways I felt better, though. I had done my duty, I had reported what I knew to the proper authority. Maybe now I could forget Dekker.
But I couldn’t forget Isabel.
‘Well, you have caused a stir, haven’t you?’
We were in my local, the Pembroke Castle. Jamie had dropped by for a quick pint, as he had promised.
‘Tell me.’
‘There’s the story in the Rio papers. But you know about that, presumably.’
‘I knew it was coming. What did it say?’
‘It said that last month’s finance scandal involving Humberto Alves and narco-traffickers in the favelas was entirely fabricated by Dekker Ward. That Oswaldo Bocci agreed to publish the story in return for finance to expand his empire.’
‘Sounds accurate to me,’ I said.
‘Well, it certainly touched a nerve. Ricardo is disturbed. Seriously disturbed. And Eduardo is positively raving. He’s not a happy bunny.’
I smiled. I liked the idea of niggling Eduardo.
‘You’ve got to watch it, Nick,’ Jamie went on. ‘These are powerful enemies you’re making.’
‘I don’t care,’ I said. ‘The way Ricardo torpedoed the favela deal was outrageous, you know that. All Luís is doing is setting the record straight.’
‘Well, Ricardo holds you responsible.’
‘That’s absurd.’
‘You tell him that.’
I sipped my pint. ‘I saw Dave today,’ I said.
‘How is he?’
‘Pissed off. Ricardo has dumped on him. He hasn’t been able to get another job in the City.’
‘So what’s he going to do?’
‘He’s got some mates of his to buy a pub somewhere. He plans to manage it with Teresa.’
‘Not a bad job for him.’
‘Yes.’ I paused a moment. ‘You know, he thinks there’s something going on at Dekker. That Martin Beldecos was murdered because he stumbled across something at Dekker Trust.’
‘Does he have any proof?’ asked Jamie.
‘No. He spoke to the police, but they weren’t interested. And I spoke to the DEA in America today.’
‘You did?’
‘Yeah. They took down the details, but they didn’t seem that interested either.’
‘Ricardo doesn’t know you’ve been talking to Dave and the DEA, does he?’