Gatecrasher

  Griffin thanked her and walked to the lift trying to remain composed, trying to fight the rising unease. He had no idea what he would be told or asked. Was there more to discover that he did not yet know or had he found out everything of relevance about his predecessors?

  Griffin was nervous that things seemed to have gone quiet since the break-in. Though that did mean at least that nothing bad had yet happened that might threaten him or his company, neither did it rule such things out. He would rather have something tangible to deal with, a challenge to tackle. Waiting was pure frustration for Griffin but now perhaps he was finally going to find something out.

  He hit the button for the fifth floor and loosened his coat and scarf. Already he was getting warm.

  62

  Wednesday. 6.15pm.

  Campbell sat in the chair near the window and watched the evening gather over London. He wore a navy suit; the only one he owned that was tailored. It was an indulgence but he had decided to spend a little of his bonus a year before on getting a tailored suit so he could look good in important meetings and at the summer wedding of his boss.

  In a clean, crisp white shirt and red silk tie Campbell had looked at himself in the mirror and was surprised at the little boost of confidence that it gave him. A simple thing but effective to look well dressed and professional. Campbell wanted to make an instant impression and jeans and a sweatshirt was not the first thing he wanted the other man to notice about him. The black eye he could not hide but he could at least take the focus from it.

  After a moment Campbell stood again, conscious that he might be creasing the suit or the shirt beneath, scared that the slightest detail might wreck his carefully laid plans. He was unable to sit still for more than a few minutes. He knew that his wait was almost over now but it did not ease his tension.

  He ran through what he would say again, rehearsed his opening line quietly to himself but every time he spoke it was different; now strong and confident, now nervous and pleading, now challenging and with an edge of aggression. The wealth of information that he had taken in over the past two weeks and in the previous twenty-four hours fought for priority in his mind. Facts and figures were piled on top of each other and he was starting to feel that he didn't know which was most important, what might be irrelevant. He worried that in his haste he would simply spew out the information in a stream rather than building the coherent and definite argument that he wanted to present.

  He looked for a moment at the mini bar in the corner, wondered whether a stiff drink might bolster his shaking nerves but thought better of it. He needed a clear head and the smell of alcohol on his breath would hardly help his credibility.

  There was subdued noise from beyond the hotel suite and the sounds of other guests opening and closing doors, of a television turned up too high in the next room. Campbell heard voices in the corridor, which caught his attention although he was not expecting more than one person. Perhaps his guest had not come alone, he thought with alarm, but the voices passed and it was quiet again.

  Campbell was not expecting a knock at the door - had in fact left instructions at the front desk to avoid that - but it came nonetheless. Campbell froze. He was here.

 

  *

 

  This was the door. Griffin looked along the corridor as two suited gentlemen talking noisily appeared and hurried past him toward the elevators.

  He pulled the white plastic keycard from the envelope and checked the room number again, more of apprehension than uncertainty. He pushed the keycard into the slot and the light blinked green.

  'Hello?' he said as he walked in and closed the door behind him. The narrow hallway into the room impeded his view and Griffin walked cautiously forward.

  A smart looking man sat in an armchair near the window. At first Griffin did not recognise him in the subdued lighting of the room and he squinted as the man turned to him and stood.

  'Andrew. Thank you for coming.'

  Griffin took the proffered hand and shook it.

  'Michael. How are you?'

  'Very well. And yourself? The family?'

  Griffin simply nodded in response. 'Is this all necessary?' he said and gestured around the hotel room. 'What is this about?'

  'I thought it better to keep things discreet. This is a sensitive matter.'

  Griffin said nothing but simply waited for Horner to continue. His impatience was obvious.

  'Do take a seat Andrew. Can I get you a drink? I took the liberty of having a very good bottle of Bordeaux brought up.'

  'Mineral water please.'

  'Of course. Perhaps later.'

  Griffin sat himself in the chair opposite the one that Horner had been sat in and waited for his drink. Horner appeared to be in no rush and Griffin felt his irritation climb. Pouring them a glass of water each Horner took care to position the glasses on the coasters that were set out on the table between the two chairs. He smoothed the fabric of his suit down across his lower back and eased himself down into the chair and then reached forward and sipped from his own glass.

  Griffin thought he was deliberately delaying whatever it was he had to say but resisted the urge to prompt him.

  'I think I owe you an apology.' Horner's opening gambit was not what Andrew Griffin had expected to hear.

  Griffin regarded the other man blankly for a moment. 'I think at the very least you owe me an apology Michael. Others too.'

  'It was a very long time ago Andrew, my drives and ambitions were unfettered then by the wisdom and ethics one tends to develop with age. I was young, hungry and yes, ruthless too. I can admit that. I'm not especially proud of it Andrew but let he who is without sin cast the first, erm?'

  The thought flashed through Griffin's mind as Horner's unfinished sentence hung in the air that the words had been carefully chosen. That he had failed to say the word 'stone' out loud not because he had thought better of what might be considered a reference to his shameful behaviour with the diamonds, but precisely because he wanted to put the thought in Griffin's head. That he was mocking him.

  'Now might not be a good time to plead your innocence based on the collective guilt of mankind Michael. It insults us both and my sense of Christian charity is in rather short supply just now.'

  Horner held up his hands in deference to Griffin's simmering anger. 'Of course I'm not suggesting that my own behaviour is in some way assuaged because others might too have strayed. I know that most people have not and would not do what I did given the opportunity. Indeed, if I had the choice to make again Andrew, I wouldn't be so foolhardy as to repeat it.'

  'What an inspiration you are to us all. Even rats learn their lessons Michael. Now, would you mind explaining your purpose? Are you so vain as to drag me all the way here merely to attempt to convince me that you are somehow the erring child made good? That your ill-judged transgression needs only to be understood to be forgiven? Because I have to tell you Michael, I'm not in the mood to understand, let alone forgive when the future of my company, my livelihood and those of many valued and loyal staff hangs in the balance. What will you do then? When you have ruined all of us? Will you be cashing in those diamonds to help soften the financial impact on those that you showed so little regard for years ago?'

  Horner barely seemed to register any response to the vitriol of Griffin's speech. He sat in the chair with a thin smile, as if allowing the outlet of an indignant but foolish child who could not be expected to understand such matters. Griffin did not react.

  'I seek neither understanding nor pardon. It is too late for that now and in any event it's irrelevant. Any decision you make upon which moral stance to adopt is unlikely to have any impact on the bearing of events. As you may or may not know, the real point of the break-in was the acquisition of incriminating evidence to be used as leverage in blackmailing my former partner Geoffrey Asquith, who, though innocent, would be considered guilty by association and ruined.'

  'What then Michael? You think I might be able to h
elp? To rescue yourself and your precious wealth and reputation? You should know that that would be purely a by-product of my own self-preservation.'

  'And you Mr Griffin would be well advised to realise that this has nothing to do with your influence or your employees, both of which are negligible factors in this situation. You should not presume that Griffin Holdings is anything but a prop in this particular play. Scenery. Certain groups or individuals have decreed that they will manipulate Geoffrey through the results of some ill-judged folly of my youth and they will not be deterred. Do you really think they would have made such an audacious attempt at blackmailing a man in Geoffrey's position unless they were certain of its success? I think you afford yourself a little too much credit Andrew.'

  Griffin's cheeks burned but he held his tongue. 'Your remarkable self-regard is always a spectacle to behold but I am growing a little tired of repeating the question Michael. Perhaps you could get to the point?'

  63

  Wednesday. 6.20pm.

  Campbell's voice failed him and his legs refused to function. Force of habit compelled him to call out and invite the man in, to go to the door. Instead he stood stiff at the back of the suite and stared across toward the door.

  There was a sliding sound and a click and then he heard the handle turn and light spill in from the hallway, silhouetting the figure of the man who stepped inside.

  'Is there anyone here?' he called out.

  'Come in,' Campbell said finally but still he did not move.

  The other man let the door close behind him and stepped cautiously into the room, glancing around for any signs of company.

  'It's just me,' Campbell said.

  'And you are?'

  This was it. Everything he had been building up to, each agonising second, minute, hour of the past few days had arrived in this moment.

  'Two weeks ago, a man by the name of Tony Cooper, a man with a record of criminal activity and associations, came uninvited into my home. He had been wounded fatally and he passed me something of a highly sensitive nature before I helped him into an ambulance. All of which has involved me in what I believe to be a very personal dilemma involving yourself and your old business associates.'

  Campbell fell silent, unsure whether to maintain his momentum, to continue making his pitch or let the other man respond.

  'That doesn't tell me who you are,' the man said. 'Nor what you want.'

  'Mr Asquith,' Campbell addressed him directly, 'I am familiar with Griffin Holdings Ltd and its previous incarnation, founded and run by yourself and a Mr Michael Horner. Mr Horner became involved in the smuggling of guns into Sierra Leone during the period of its civil war and involved in the smuggling of uncut diamonds out of the same country by way of payment for his services. Whether you had any involvement in that- '

  'I had nothing to do with that!' Asquith interrupted sharply. 'Michael acted entirely in secret and of his own volition.'

  'As you say. Even so, the mere association is enough, for a conviction, as they say, in the court of public opinion. You know this perfectly well and you know that this would ruin you, your ex-partner, and the existing company and every one of its staff.'

  Campbell paused for a moment, to let his words sink in. He needed the other man to realise what he knew, how far this went and that he was to be taken seriously. Asquith didn't respond this time, his quick temper apparently replaced now by apprehension, as if he couldn't figure out Campbell's role in this or his intentions.

  'I am aware of the attempt to blackmail you Mr Asquith though I can assure you, I am in no way involved, if that is what you are thinking.'

  'I think you should tell me who you are before I call the police,' Asquith replied with a hard edge to his voice, clearly short of patience now. Time to play your hand Campbell.

  'I can tell you who your blackmailer is Mr Asquith, and why.'

 

  *

 

  'I saw what I thought to be an opportunity to make a significant sum of money many years ago and that is exactly what I achieved. Did my small actions prolong the civil war? Did they sway the war in any particular or decisive direction? Could I have stopped it by abstaining from what I did?' Horner shook his head at Griffin, his expression dismissing any objections the other man might seek to make. 'My actions represented a tiny fraction in a far wider situation. There were larger institutions with vested interests in the conflict, getting paid vastly more than I received and involved in ways that dwarfed my own. But those actions were despicable and shameful nonetheless. I profited from the misery of other people. Yes. I was ruthlessly opportunistic and those actions have come full circle to haunt and threaten me and other people. Yes. I do not want you to understand this Andrew and I do not ask for such hollow luxuries as forgiveness. But what I would like from you is discretion.'

  The silence that followed was thick with tension as Griffin took in the weight of Horner's words. He reached for the glass of water and took a sip, then another, set the glass down.

  'Silence?' Griffin said, his tone cool and challenging.

  Horner said nothing. After a moment he dipped his head just a fraction in assent.

  'I have no more interest in this information becoming public knowledge than you do,' Griffin said.

  'Not now I grant you. But things change, people move on, retire. I should very much like to ensure that should circumstances, uh, alter in time, I can rely on you to remain, what is the phrase? On message.'

  And then Horner slipped a hand inside the jacket of his expensively cut suit and took out a small dark object. He laid it on the table in front of him and pushed it halfway toward Griffin. It was a small black velvet pouch. Griffin wanted to examine Horner's expression, his eyes, but his own eyes were fixed on the bag.

  Time passed and neither man spoke or moved. Horner sat motionless, watching Griffin stare down at the table.

  Then, slowly, Andrew Griffin sat forward and hesitantly reached for the pouch on the table. Though he knew what he would see there, something compelled him to look anyway, something he couldn't fight.

  He picked it up and could feel the hard sharp shape inside the velvet as he pulled it open.

  'The price of silence,' Michael Horner said softly.

  Griffin gave no indication that he had heard him as he continued to stare inside at a large uncut diamond.

  64

  Wednesday. 6.40pm.

  His bait cast, Campbell watched to see whether it would be taken. He had further to go yet though. Even if Asquith did bite, he still had to reel him in.

  'Over the course of around the last eighteen months, three companies have been quietly purchasing stock in three specific firms,' Campbell began. 'This is perfectly normal since they are investment companies and the purchases have been so arranged that they were spread out over time and transacted through a number of different dealers. The use of more than one investment firm to do this and the process of layering the investments helps to disguise the true nature of what is happening. But the upshot is that these three investment houses now collectively represent the majority shareholders of each of the companies in which they are investing, holding in total just short of 30 per cent of each firm. The shares that they have been buying up are in construction and engineering firms Mr Asquith, firms who are now awaiting the results of the tender process for the Malaysian Dam project that is being in large part funded by the British Government's Department for International Development. The contracts for the design, construction and implementation of the project are worth many tens of millions of pounds and will, naturally, bolster both the coffers and the share price of the firms that win those contracts. You of course are perfectly familiar with what I am telling you since it is you that is due, tomorrow, to announce who the successful tenders have been and which firms will win those contracts.'

  'If you are threatening me?' Asquith began but his tone was uneven and Campbell had the feeling that the Minister for International Development had yet to dec
ide which side of the fence he was on. He had obviously not figured out whether this was just another part of the blackmail plot, if Campbell was one of the conspirators or whether he were not involved at all, as he had asserted.

  'I'm not threatening you in the slightest. On the contrary; the real danger so far has been to me, not from me.' Campbell said and with that he walked slowly from the shadows across the room toward Geoffrey Asquith and into the light where the other man could see the colourful array of bruising and swelling on his face.

  'Believe me Mr Asquith when I say that I'm here to help. Help us both.'

  'That remains to be seen,' Asquith replied. He was still being abrupt but that was hardly surprising as far as Campbell could see. What was more significant was that he was still listening.

  'The Dam project has been referred to in various quarters save the very highest and most official, as a white elephant. The hydroelectric plant will produce energy for a region that already has an energy surplus. Already some 10,000 people have been displaced from their homes - land owned by their ancestors for generations - and moved to smaller, inferior plots where the land is of poorer quality and in places largely infertile. The fabric of these communities has been torn, alcoholism and violent crime already on the increase. The environmental assessments are widely acknowledged to be deeply flawed and accusations of suppression and even falsification of information are common. An area the size of a large town will be flooded by the dam, threatening the habitat of a diverse range of plants and animals and the costs of the entire project are said to be significantly higher than comparable examples in the developed world.'

  'There have been a number of in-depth studies conducted both by the Malaysian government and our own agencies. We could exchange stories all evening about whose sources are the more credible or politically motivated,' Asquith replied defensively.

  'Of course we could but only one of us would then be a liar Mr Asquith. This is all a matter of public record anyway and there's no point me trying to argue with you. I have no doubt you are far more extensively read on this subject than myself. Indeed, that is why you are here.'