Death Run

His suit had soon dried in the heat of the day, and even without the mask he looked gaunt and menacing. “But where would I hide my gun?” He opened the jacket to reveal a shoulder holster.

“You could try a career change,” Jade suggested.

“Get a nice job in an office,” Dad agreed.

The man shrugged. “Then I would have to wear a suit anyway.”

Ralph turned from where he was standing at the front of the boat and shouted over the sound of the engine. “Scevola loves his work.”

“Family business?” Dad wondered.

“Oh, yes,” the skull-faced man – Scevola – said. “And I love my family too.”

The boat turned off the main canal, heading into a narrow, private waterway. At the end, Jade could see an enormous house. It was painted pale yellow and unlike so many of the buildings she had seen by the water, it was clean and dry and in immaculate condition.

Inside, the building was just as impressive. Heavy crystal chandeliers hung from ornately plastered ceilings, and the carpets were so deep it was like walking on a well kept lawn. Ralph led them along a wide hallway to an enormous drawing room. French windows gave on to a wide terrace overlooking the water, and Ralph gestured for them to sit.

It was bizarre, but Jade found she was feeling more relaxed on the terrace of Ralph’s Mafia-supplied house than she had done all holiday. She sipped at iced mineral water and picked at a pasta salad. OK – pasta yet again. But she’d let Ralph off, just this once.

With the exception of skull-faced Scevola, the other men had left. Ralph did most of the talking. He explained again about the Banker and how he had access to a large number of criminal bank accounts.

“Now the Tiger, he is a very different sort of man,” Ralph said. He poured himself more wine, holding the glass up to admire the quality of the pale straw-coloured liquid. “Like the Banker, no one knows who he really is, what his name might be. But the Banker, one gets the impression, has some morals. He never deals with terrorists or gets involved with the businesses he handles. He charges a fair price for his services. Up until now he has been efficient and reliable.”

“And now you want your money back,” Rich said.

Ralph laughed. “It would be nice. But no, that isn’t really an issue. Neither Scevola nor I had very much money involved. Yes, the Banker handled matters for us. Now the Tiger, again, is different.”

“So tell us about the Tiger,” Dad said. “I’ve heard the stories, of course. But what’s the truth?”

“Always a good question,” Ralph conceded. “The Tiger – where to begin? Perhaps if I told you that the most unpleasant, the most violent, the most outrageous stories that you might have heard are the most likely to be true. Or that if you have ever heard anything good or redeeming about the Tiger, then forget it.”

“He’s a gangster?” Rich asked, glancing quickly at Ralph.

Ralph caught the look and laughed. “Nothing so honest.”

“He’s an investor,” Dad said. “He invests money in criminal activity. Organised crime. Blackmail rackets. People trafficking and slavery. Arms sales and mercenaries. And terrorism. Thought to be British or at least European. He started out as an investor, or so it’s said. Came from a business background and applied his knowledge and talent to crime.”

“But you said the Banker kept away from all that,” Jade reminded them.

“The Tiger is the exception.”

“Why?” Rich asked.

“Because he used the Banker right from the start. Didn’t want to dirty his hands, wanted to keep one step removed from the actual business of crime. For this reason, even back then, he kept the Banker at arm’s length. Not even the Banker has ever met the Tiger – he deals always through intermediaries. It was later, when the banker already worked for him, that the Tiger expanded his reach into the less pleasant activities.”

“Even less pleasant,” Jade qualified.

Ralph raised his glass to her, conceding the point. “And having worked for the Tiger, the Banker knew that he couldn’t step away. He knew what would happen to him if he did. The Tiger is probably the only one of his clients who knew who the Banker really was, from the old days when they were both starting out. It may be because of the Tiger that the Banker finally decided to retire.”

“Not an easy job to retire from,” Dad pointed out. “Which is why he made the death run.”

“The what?” Jade asked.

“Disappeared,” Ralph said. “Started a new life. Risky, but if you pull it off it can be worth it. The death run is the closest some of us get to a retirement plan. But somehow the Tiger found out what the Banker was planning and had him brought to Mont Passat.”

“You want to take the story from there, Dad?” Jade raised her eyebrows.

He shrugged. “Not a lot to tell. OK, so I did a bit of business in Mont Passat. That was why Ardman sent us there. I wasn’t going to tell you and spoil our break, but it was fairly clear it was a condition of the holiday that I get the Banker away from Mont Passat.”

“So you went into the casino, all guns blazing,” Rich said.

Dad smiled. “Hardly. I walked him out and put him in a car.”

“And the drinking and gambling?” Jade said.

“Part of my cover. Had to do it.” He grinned. “It was hell, you know.”

“Oh, I know,” said Jade sarcastically. “We saw the security footage.”

“And that,” Ralph said, “is why you are here.”

“Oh?” Dad held out his glass for more wine. “I haven’t seen them, but the images show nothing. I know that. I made sure of it.”

“True,” Ralph agreed. “I have examined them very carefully. There is no sign of the Banker, nothing to show how he escaped or who helped him. But…” He paused to refill his own glass. “But you are there, my friend. That is what I wanted to warn you. The camera footage I have is a copy, an expensive copy. But the original is still with the man who actually owns the casino at Mont Passat.”

“Guess who,” Dad said. “So those rumours are true as well.”

“There are several holding companies and offshore investment banks in between. But yes, behind it all is a hidden Tiger. A Tiger who will also be examining those security pictures. A Tiger who will, sooner or later, recognise you.”

“A Tiger who, like us, does not believe in coincidence.” It was the first time that Scevola had spoken and his tone was still severe. “This is of very little interest to me and my colleagues. As Ralph has told you, we lost relatively little when the Banker went. But you are a friend of Ralph’s and he tells us he owes you a favour.”

“And the Tiger,” Ralph said, “if the rumours are true, has lost rather more. He entrusted the Banker with almost all his funds. The Banker and the Banker alone has the account numbers and access codes that can release those funds. The Tiger will be desperate to find him, to recover the account numbers and codes before he hands them over.”

“His bargaining chips,” Dad said. “That’s what he’ll be offering in return for the death run – access to the money, and the names and details of the people he worked for. A huge coup for Ardman. But the Banker will hold out for the very best deal he can get.”

“As long as he holds out, the Tiger will be after the money.” Ralph sipped at his wine. “Even after the money is gone, the Tiger will want to get his hands on the Banker. And,” he added significantly, “on anyone who helped him get away.”

“Dad,” said Rich quietly.

“You look for trouble, don’t you?” Jade told him.

“It’s my job,” he replied.

Ralph turned so he was face to face with John Chance. “That is the warning, my friend. If I can find out who helped the Banker to escape, then you can be sure that the Tiger can too. And when he does…” Ralph sighed and shook his head. “Now, who wants ice cream?”

6 (#udc61f0fc-478b-5357-808d-801fc1dda3d8)

It was evening by the time they got back to the hotel.