Michael
“Congratulations, Richard.” Will Stanton clinks glasses with his old friend. “I came over as soon as I
heard. And how’s Beth? I have some flowers for her.”
‘Some flowers’ is an understatement. The bouquet is huge.
“I’ll find a vase for them,” I say. “You can take them up together.”
“Great!” His smile is broad. “And the baby, Adam is it? How’s he?”
“All present and correct,” beams Richard. “Mother and baby doing well.”
From the front door, the sound of knocking. “I’ll get it,” I say. “Enjoy your champagne. It’s probably
another delivery of Congratulations cards.
I head down the hall, chuckling. I’d not considered that, Richard being who he is, one of the Great and
Good of the City, we’d be overwhelmed by cards. The house is festooned with them: hundreds of the
things: from friends, employees, colleagues, bankers and hangers-on, they all want to be remembered
to the richest man in a hundred miles.
I open the door, expecting to see a mailman. Instead, it’s Hickman, a large brown envelope clasped in
one hand. “Please excuse my intrusion, Mr Summerford, but I saw the police commissioner arrive. I
wonder if I might have a word with him?”
“Of course. Come in. Everyone’s in the lounge.”
Will’s brows rise as he enters. He speaks with exaggerated politeness. “And what would you and I have
to talk about, Mr Hickman?”
“I have a request from my employer. He needs information.”
It’s a cliché to say that you could hear a pin drop, but nonetheless…
Will’s mouth flaps open, then closes again. Then opens once more. “You have my attention.” In the
background, Mitch rises from her seat, moving closer.
Hickman’s face is straight, but his lips quirk as he takes something from the envelope, passing it to Will:
a sheaf of photo prints. “My employer requests that you obtain identification and anything else you can
tell him about the men in these photographs.”
Will blinks then works through the sheaf of images, examining each one quickly then moving on. “And
these individuals are… of what interest exactly?”
“My employer informs me that they are gang-members running a protection racket on a number of
small, apparently reputable and legitimate businesses in Sao Paulo. The businesses concerned are
based at the addresses taken from a number of the…” …He makes air commas… “… invoices… taken
from Finchby’s records.”
Will scowls. “Is that so?” He peers at the images, holding them up to the light. “So, what’s Klempner up
to?”
Hickman’s voice remains bland. “Mr Klempner is attempting to trace the connection between Finchby’s
operation here, Baxter’s…um… supply chain… and the female named as Juliana Diaz by Baxter, now
apparently under the name of Sola or Solana.”
Will awards him a slow look, his lips pursing…
… Unabashed, Hickman continues… “Mr Klempner suggests that it would serve all our interests to…
What was his phrase? … Cut the supply at source. He intends to ensure the Diaz female is no longer a
threat to his family…” He casts a small nod to Mitch, another to Charlotte… “… And since it appears
that the gang is still dealing with at least two branches of organised crime, protection and trafficking, he
felt you might be interested in cooperating with him.”
Hickman finally dries up and his face cracks to a smile. “What do you say, Commissioner?”
Will inhales. “Let me see if I have this right. Lawrence Klempner wants me to supply him with
information identifying individuals involved in organised crime in Brazil with the intention of what?
Assassinating said criminals?”
“My employer did not entrust me with the fine detail of his plans, commissioner.”
“It seems to me he’s entrusted you with a lot else, Hickman.” He pauses, regarding the heavy-set,
slightly thuggish-looking man. “I thought you were just Klempner’s hired muscle? He seems to be
relying heavily on your loyalty.”
“We have already discussed this commissioner. While my muscle is, as you say, hired, it will remain
hired so long as Mr Klempner is my employer.”
Will grunts non-committally, and works through the photos again, this time examining each one more
carefully.
James offers out a hand. “Mind if I take a look?”
Hickman interrupts, his tone smooth. “My apologies, Mr Alexanders. I printed several copies.” From the
envelope, he extracts several more sets of the printed images, distributing them to James and Richard,
another to me, then Mitch and Charlotte. “Mr Klempner was specific that he wanted you all to have
access to full information. In return, he hopes that Commissioner Stanton here will see fit to provide the
information he requests.”
Will raises a brow. “You realise of course, this isn’t the kind of information I have right on hand...”
“Of course.”
“… but I’ll see what I can find. At the least, I’ll have to contact Interpol and the Brazilian authorities.
When I’ve learned anything, I’ll take a view on what I’m willing to pass on to Klempner.”
*****
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