‘I can check up on that,’ said Luís.
‘I’ll ask my police contacts,’ said Nelson. ‘If he is close to these guys, they will know.’
‘And what about the kid who stabbed me?’ I asked. ‘If that was organized by a drug gang, might there be rumours in the favelas?’
‘Possibly,’ said Nelson. ‘I can ask about that as well.’
‘So can I,’ Cordelia said. ‘My kids run all over the city. Normally I’d hate to ask them those kinds of questions, but in this case...’
Luís looked at us over his glasses, his face finely balanced between desperation and hope. ‘Well, at least we can do something now.’
Luís and I sat out on the balcony overlooking the bay. I was drinking a beer, he was drinking water.
‘I shouldn’t have lost my temper this morning,’ he said.
‘It’s understandable.’
He sighed. ‘It’s been a hard six weeks.’ His deep voice was heavy with the fatigue of waiting and hoping. ‘I always believed she was alive, but it was fantastic to hear from Zico again. I’m just worried that if we don’t get her out by next Wednesday...’
‘We’ll find her.’
‘That soon?’
I cleared my throat. Now was the time to try out my idea. ‘There is a way that we might be able to buy ourselves more time.’
‘Oh, yes?’
‘You remember that you said Banco Horizonte was beginning to think about expanding overseas?’
‘Did I say that?’
‘Yes, I think so. Is it true?’
‘Well, yes. We’re thinking about setting up operations in the other Mercosul countries, perhaps Argentina or Uruguay.’
‘What about Dekker?’
‘Buying Dekker Ward, you mean?’
‘Yes.’
Luís creased his forehead. ‘It’s an idea. But no Brazilian bank has bought a major European firm before.’
‘You could probably afford it. Bloomfield Weiss are only offering Kerton ten million pounds.’
‘Yes, we could afford it,’ he said carefully. ‘And it would be a great strategic fit. We’d become the premier investment bank in South America. But the problem is the bond portfolio. From what you’ve told me, it’s huge and it’s heavily underwater. You’d need to be a Bloomfield Weiss to trade your way out of that. We just don’t have the capital.’
I was disappointed. ‘So you couldn’t make a bid just to delay things?’
Luís hesitated. ‘We could, but I don’t think Lord Kerton would listen. It wouldn’t be credible. He’d know we couldn’t take on the bond positions. He’d think we were just playing for time, and accept the Bloomfield Weiss bid instead.’
My heart sank. ‘Well, anyway, let me get some of the information on Dekker, and see what you think.’
I disappeared inside, and returned with my copies of the Bloomfield Weiss documents on Dekker.
‘I’m not sure you should be letting me see these,’ Luís said.
‘Why not? If there’s any way they can help to save Isabel, I’ll use them. And I’m not impressed by rules made up by one shark to help it swallow another.’
Luís grinned and studied the papers. I looked out over the bay. It was almost the middle of the Brazilian winter, and there was a soft, cool thickness to the air as it blew in from the sea. The temperature was cold by Rio standards, but pleasant by mine. So although it was a Saturday, the beach wasn’t crowded, but there were still the games of volleyball, beach football, and that skilful hybrid of the two that so fascinated me. Towards the horizon the familiar cluster of half-domed islands lurked low in the sea, which shimmered in the weakening late-afternoon sunlight.
‘You know, there is a way,’ he said at last.
‘What’s that?’
‘KBN, the big Dutch bank. They’re the people who I introduced to Humberto Alves to resurrect the favela deal. They’re one of the biggest players in the emerging bond markets. They could handle the Dekker bond portfolio.’
‘So you’d suggest that they buy Dekker Ward.’
Luís smiled. ‘Oh, no. I want to buy Dekker Ward. But they can take on the bond portfolio.’
‘Would they do that?’
‘We could structure it to make it worth their while.’
I smiled. ‘Well, then?’
Luís stood up, tucking the papers I had given him under his arm. ‘I have a few telephone calls to make.’
Luís spent Sunday on the phone, interrupting the weekends of his partners at Banco Horizonte and some senior people at KBN. Cordelia spent much of her weekend in the shelter in the favela. And Nelson called in favours with his former police colleagues. I stalked impatiently around Luís’s apartment, occasionally providing him with information on Dekker Ward.
In one of the brief moments when Luís was off the phone, I decided to ring Kate, to let her know what progress, or lack of it, I had made. I dialled her number, praying that Jamie wouldn’t answer. Kate was usually first to the phone in their house.
But not this time.
‘Hallo,’ Jamie said.
For a moment I considered simply hanging up. But that was silly. If I wanted to speak to Kate, I should just ask.
‘Hallo?’ Jamie sounded irritated.
‘Jamie? It’s Nick. I’m ringing from Brazil.’
‘Oh.’
‘Can I speak to Kate?’
Silence. Oh, come on, he couldn’t forbid me from speaking to her.
‘She’s not here.’ His voice sounded strained.
‘When will she be back?’
‘I wish I knew.’
‘What’s wrong? Is she all right?’
Another pause. ‘She left me. Last night. She took Oliver. She’s gone to her sister’s.’
‘Why did she leave?’
‘Why don’t you ask her yourself?’ The venom sped down the phone line, and then the receiver went dead.
I stared at it a moment. Jesus, Kate had left. I should have seen it coming, I supposed, but I still couldn’t believe it. Oh, God, was it my fault? I’d persuaded her to help me against Jamie. Except it wasn’t Jamie I was conspiring against, it was Ricardo. And I was only trying to save Isabel. Without Kate’s help she’d be dead by now. But, of course, Jamie wouldn’t see it that way.
I remembered their wedding. It was of the traditional English variety, in the large fifteenth-century church in the Sussex village where her father was a doctor. It was a glorious June day. Jamie looked dashing in his morning suit, and Kate gorgeous in her wedding dress. Both sets of parents beamed. I can’t remember the details too well. For most of it, I was worried about my best-man duties, but I held on to the ring, and my speech was short and even raised a couple of laughs. After that the champagne flowed, and with it a warm glow of pleasure that two people I liked so much had decided to live their lives together. At some weddings, the couple seem right for each other, and at others they don’t. At this one they seemed perfect.
I still believed they had been then. But things had changed, or they had changed, or something.
I had Kate’s sister Liz’s number in my address book. I dug it out and dialled it. Liz answered. She put me through to Kate right away.
‘Kate, it’s Nick. What happened?’
She sighed. ‘I’ve moved out.’
‘So Jamie told me. Are you all right? You must feel awful.’
‘I do,’ she said flatly. ‘But it’s good to be out of the house. I need a few days to think it over.’
‘It’s not because of me, is it?’
‘Oh, no, Nick. Not really. Although I didn’t like the way he threw you out with nowhere to go. He’s changed, Nick. And I don’t like what he’s changed into.’ Kate’s voice was quiet. ‘Has he ever... you know, with other women?’