The Trawlerman, стр. 24
‘Win-win.’
‘Exactly. And, as it happens, the Guatemalan government do have reforestation subsidies and there are plenty of companies benefiting from it, but Biosfera Reforestation wasn’t one of them. Whoever set it up copied and pasted off government websites and companies that were legitimately involved in subsidy schemes to make it look legit. They made sure that the promised returns weren’t astronomical, just enough to make investors think they were being a bit cleverer than the rest . . . that they had found something a little special.’
They reached Rye; an island of ground in a flat land, an old town of half-timbers, red bricks and cobblestones. Jill found a space in the dockside car park and adjusted the rear-view mirror to check her make-up, then turned in her seat, reached out a hand and placed it on Alex’s knee in the same unsettlingly sympathetic manner she had this morning. ‘There’s something else I need to tell you too. And I’m not sure you’re going to like it.’
‘What?’
She hesitated. ‘Why don’t we talk about it in the restaurant.’
‘You’re actually worrying me.’
The restaurant was in an old stone mill just down the road. It was one of those Italian restaurants with red-and-white-striped tablecloths and waiters carrying outsize pepper grinders.
‘Well?’ said Alex when a man in jeans had seated them at their table. ‘What is it you found out?’
But Jill insisted they had to order drinks first, and then the waiter arrived to take their food order. A couple at the next table were talking now. He was complaining about their babysitter who had turned up late. The woman was asking him not to spoil the evening.
‘I’ll have a caprese salad,’ said Jill. ‘But no cheese.’
The room was full of noise. Alex was conscious of that pressure in her chest; the same feeling she had had on the day she had taken the machete off Mandy Hogben; that unwelcome conviction that something bad was going to happen. She looked round the room trying to figure out what was making her feel like this.
‘You OK?’ Jill was looking at her, concerned.
‘Zoë’s hanging about with Tina and Stella,’ said Alex evasively. ‘It’s strange.’
‘No stranger than her hanging around with a fifty-year-old man who’s been convicted of murder.’
‘Something’s wrong with them – with Tina and Stella. I don’t know what.’
‘Right now you think something’s wrong with everything.’
‘Yes. I know. I’m sorry. Tell me, who reported Frank Hogben missing?’
Jill looked exasperated. ‘I don’t know, Alex. It’s not what I’ve come here to talk about.’
‘Sorry,’ Alex said. ‘I’m listening.’
‘OK. Listen to this then. This Biosfera scheme actually ran for about eight months, they reckon. There was an office in Guatemala and everything, to make it look legit. The real landowners of the place that was going to be forested turn out to know absolutely nothing about it. The whole thing is an invention.’
The waiter arrived with Alex’s wine.
‘And then,’ continued Jill, ‘two months ago, the website disappeared, the phones went dead and everything went quiet. And poof! There was no money.’
‘Who has it?’
She shrugged. ‘No idea. There were names of people on the company website – which no longer exists – but they were fake. The domain registration details were fake.’
‘So all that money Ayman Younis put into it is gone?’
‘Looking at his bank records, almost half a million we think now,’ said Jill.
‘And there were others presumably too?’ said Alex, looking around the busy restaurant, trying to work out what was making her feel so itchy.
‘I’m coming to that,’ said Jill. ‘A nice man at the intelligence unit said Ayman Younis paid his money into a legitimate-looking UK account in the name of Biosfera Investment. That bank account was paying regular amounts out to banks in Gibraltar and Malta, which are tax havens. In turn they were paying out to banks in much more dubious tax havens and so they can tell where their money came from but they have no idea at all where it went.’
Their order arrived. Alex looked at the seafood spaghetti she had ordered and felt queasy.
‘Thing is, they’ve seized bank records for Biosfera Investments and so they have a list of people who’ve put money in. They’re contacting these people over the next few weeks. Most of the investors still have no idea at all they’ve been conned.’
Alex was only half listening. The restaurant was full now. There were people waiting in line, and that made her want to finish the meal and leave quickly. The couple next to them had finished their main course and the woman was fidgeting as if nervous about something too. She kept looking over her shoulder as if she, too, were expecting something to happen. Alex blinked at her.
‘Did you hear me?’
‘Sorry? No. I wandered off somewhere.’
‘I said, one of the investors on the list was Terry Neill. He hasn’t lost anything like as much as Ayman Younis, but a few grand. Are you OK, Alex? You haven’t touched your food or your wine. I’m supposed to be feeding you up.’
Alex realised her arms were crossed over her chest and she was rubbing her upper arms, as if cold. She unfolded herself, picked up a fork. ‘So. Terry Neill was caught up in this too?’
‘And what’s worse, there was another name on the list I recognised too.’
‘Who?’
‘Like I said, you’re not going to like this.’
Alex felt a prickle on the back of her neck. Even the air around her was somehow different. It was just like before at the wedding that Thursday.
And then the next thing, she was standing, knocking her chair backwards, sending it clattering onto the floor.
‘Knife!’ she shouted, loud as she could. ‘Knife.’ She pointed.
The hubbub of the restaurant was instantly gone. Instead of looking where she was pointing, at the man who was holding a large silver blade, everyone was looking at her.
Alex blinked. Looked around. There was a look of horror on Jill’s face.
Behind the man with the long knife, the