Casanova (6 page)

‘This is Carmichael,’ Meriwether said by way of introduction.

The young man extended his hand, smiled with a good show of straight white teeth and said, ‘James Carmichael but everyone calls me Hoagy.’ We shook hands. ‘I know who you are,’ he said. ‘I’ve been fully briefed.’

‘Young Robert Redford,’ Meriwether said, referring to Carmichael, ‘is going to be helping us for a few days. I’ve seconded him from VX. Let’s sit down shall we, time is short.’

We all sat and Meriwether looked at me with that amusement he often had in his eyes. ‘I wanted to call him Sundance but I suppose we’ll have to call him Hoagy,’ he said to me. Hoagy showed off his Hollywood teeth again and said, ‘Everyone does.’

‘What’s your skiing like?’ Meriwether asked me.

I had skied ever since I could walk and Meriwether probably knew that. As a soldier, I spent one winter with the French Foreign Legion at their training camp in the Alps. My regiment was liaising for a dual covert operation in mountainous terrain. We were a small team of exceptional skiers.

‘Not bad,’ I said.

‘Good,’ Meriwether said. ‘You’re booked on a flight to Geneva; a rental car will be waiting to get you to the resort and we’ve found you a pleasant little room in a comfortable hotel very close to the main lift.’

‘...and this is the same resort as Mrs. Casanova?’

‘Yes, she and her two daughters have taken a small catered chalet just the other side of the lift from your hotel. Your almost neighbours.’

Just then the door opened and a man entered wheeling a trolley with a china coffee pot and a round cake with about a third already cut away.

‘Who ordered coffee?’ Meriwether asked. ‘We don’t have time for coffee.’

‘You did, sir,’ the servant answered.

‘Did I? Oh, yes, I did. Oh, well, we had better have it now it’s here.’

‘Very good, sir,’ the servant said.

‘Hoagy, do the honours will you.’

The servant left and Hoagy poured the coffee. I took a generous slice of cake, sat back and waited.

Meriwether sipped at his coffee cup, looked amused by something and then said, ‘You’re on the same flight as C and her grandfather. They’ve taken their usual catered chalet, which is very close to Mrs. Casanova. They go every year for Christmas, as you know. C doesn’t know you’re on the same flight as her. You can use the time to brief her on developments. She’ll like that. It’s only fair we keep her up-to-date. She can take things a bit to heart you know.’ Meriwether smiled at me.

I did know. I chewed on a mouthful of cake and drank some coffee while I waited for Meriwether to continue.

‘Hoagy here has packed you a bag full of ski clothes. Your hotel will arrange a ski-pass and provide you with the necessary equipment from one of the hire shops in the village. If you require a mountain guide, the hotel can arrange that too. You’ll find the Manager most helpful in these matters.’ Meriwether paused and sipped more coffee. ‘Also in your bag you’ll find an ample supply of Swiss francs, I understand the Swiss Alps are expensive, oh, and a brand new K106.’

‘You want me to use a K106?’ I questioned.

‘I know you had a bad experience with one in Tenerife,’ Meriwether said, ‘but that was different. This time we don’t have a traitor about which to worry. This time it will help you. I want you to use it, agreed?’

I nodded my agreement.

‘Good,’ said Meriwether. ‘Well, that’s about everything. You’d better get off and go to the airport; you don’t want to miss your flight.’

‘Apart from skiing, what else am I suppose to be doing there?’

‘Oh, yes, well, looking for Casanova, naturally.’

‘Is he definitely there?’

‘Yes, he’s there.’

‘Do you know where?’

‘Not yet, but he’s likely to meet up with his wife and daughters at some stage. It is Christmas.’

‘So, you think I should follow her?’

‘Maybe, but we’re working on his exact location and I’m certain we’ll have it very soon; probably by the time you’ve settled in at your hotel. Isn’t that right, Hoagy?’

‘Oh, yes, sir,’ replied Hoagy from around a mouthful of cake.

I stood up and grasped the handle of the bag Hoagy had supposedly packed for me.

‘Just one thing more,’ Meriwether said. ‘When you do catch up with Casanova be sure to tell him we’d like our money back.’

6

SUNDAY, 15:30—24:00

Outside the club, the air was thick with snowflakes. I took a cab from St. James’s to the airport. It gave me some time to think. The money Meriwether spoke about was the hole found in the books at Casanova’s bank. I wondered exactly how much it was and where it had gone. Meriwether seemed certain that Casanova knew the answer. When I found him, I’d have to ask him. It seemed likely there were others who thought Casanova was to blame for the missing money, too, if the
sanctioned termination
was any guide. I hadn’t told Meriwether about that yet and I hadn’t been in contact with Bradshaw. I wouldn’t be at home to receive the equipment he was sending me in the post. Anyway, the first thing to do was find Casanova. Once I’d done that, I could worry about the money and the ST. My thoughts moved to Charlotte and I wondered how much of this she knew and how much I was actually going to tell her. I checked my new wristwatch. The cab was approaching the terminal building. It was time to go skiing in Switzerland; not a bad way to spend Christmas, I decided. I had the feeling though, it was going to be more work than play.

I checked-in my bags and went through security into the departure lounge. I walked slowly and scanned the other passengers. Charlotte and her grandfather were sitting at a table sharing a pot of tea. I kept my distance but even so, she looked up and saw me. After saying something to her grandfather, she stood and headed in my direction. She was wearing a long faux fur coat that made her look like a wealthy Russian. I moved over against the wall and waited for her to reach me.

‘Did you know I was on this flight?’

I nodded my reply.

‘Where are you staying?’

I told her the name of the hotel.

‘That’s close to me,’ she said.

‘...and a friend of yours,’ I told her.

‘Oh, what’s the latest?’ she asked.

Before I could answer, the loud speaker called our flight.

‘I’ll talk to you on the plane,’ I said and walked away.

We took-off in a snow blizzard and were probably lucky to get away as the runway was quickly disappearing under a rapidly deepening white layer that showed no sign of letting up. I sat by the window and looked out as we climbed through the dense cloud. The jet engines seemed to be roaring with annoyance at the extra effort needed due to the heavy snow. We broke through the cloud and the roar settled and became a contented hum.

Charlotte abruptly appeared next to me and sat down. She’d removed her coat and was wearing a tight woollen top that showed off her breasts.

‘What’s the latest then?’

‘Does your grandfather ski?’

Charlotte smiled and said, ‘Yes, a little.’

‘That’s good for eighty-one.’

‘He doesn’t go up for long; just a couple of easy runs in the mornings and then back down for a long lunch and a nap.’

‘What’s your skiing like?’

‘You’ll soon find out,’ she said. ‘Now tell me the latest.’

‘You probably know everything already.’

‘Well tell me anyway. I like listening to your voice.’

A pretty stewardess appeared beside us and asked if we would like anything.

‘Nothing for me, thank-you,’ Charlotte said.

I ordered tea and biscuits. We sat silently while the stewardess served me. Once she had moved away Charlotte said, ‘Did you have to order something?’

‘I’m thirsty and the biscuits will help keep my strength up.’

She ignored me and said, ‘So tell me the latest.’

I sipped at my hot tea and ate a biscuit.

‘You’re not going to tell me, are you?’

‘Yes, I am, give me a chance.’

There was silence while I sipped more tea. Charlotte playfully poked me and I smiled.

‘Okay okay, Bazzer thinks Casanova is in the resort.’ Bazzer was the name we called Bartholomew Meriwether when it was just the two of us. Well, security is always paramount as Meriwether is often reminding us. Codenames are important for everyone’s safety.

‘Why does he think that?’

‘I don’t know except Mrs. Casanova and her two daughters are there for Christmas, staying in a catered chalet almost next door to yours.’

‘My friend,’ Charlotte said. I got the impression this wasn’t news to her. ‘What else?’ she asked.

‘The police already have him as a suspect in their murder enquiry; his DNA was on the database.’

‘What are they doing about it?’

‘They know he’s disappeared and they want to go public.’

‘What does Bazzer think about that?’

‘We’ve managed to persuade them to hold off for thirty-six hours while the helpful agent from Interpol tries to track him down for them.’

Charlotte smiled and said, ‘Good boy, well done.’

I sipped more tea and stared at her breasts. She saw me and smiled. ‘Wait till you see them in a tight thermal vest,’ she said. I looked away and tried not to think about it. It may have been Christmas but we still had work to do.

Sensing my thoughts Charlotte asked, ‘Do we know any more about the hole at the bank?’

‘I think Bazzer does but he’s not saying. I’m pretty sure he’s got a team working on it.’

‘Do we know how big it is yet?’

This question made me consider telling her about Bradshaw and the ST. I thought about it for a second or two but decided to keep it to myself for now. Charlotte was waiting for an answer.

‘It’s big enough to interest Bazzer,’ I said.

‘Yes,’ Charlotte agreed, and gave a slow astute nod of her head.

‘He insisted I bring this and made me agree to use it.’ I showed her my new K106. She ran her index finger over the screen and across the buttons.

‘This means he’s expecting you to go active,’ she said.

‘Yes, that’s what I thought.’

Charlotte was quiet for a moment while she considered the implications of that new information. Then her face lightened and she said, ‘Well, if you don’t want to join the mile high club with me then I’m going back to sit with my grandfather.’ She stood up and left with a backward glance over her shoulder and a grin, which she thought was sexy.

I looked down at my K106 and ran my finger over the screen and across the buttons just as Charlotte had done. The satellite phone made me remember Tenerife, and Charlotte’s words replayed themselves in my mind:
This means he’s expecting you to go active.

We touched down on a clear, dry runway at Geneva airport and taxied to the terminal building. There was more snow in London, I thought. Outside, an icy blue December sky gave up its fragile sunshine like the weakness of an old man’s smile.

Inside, I passed through control and then continued into arrivals. The hangar-style structure felt antiseptic and functional. I collected my bags and began to move away when Charlotte crossed my path and made me stop.

‘We’re being taken in a chauffeur driven car,’ she said. ‘Are you coming with us?’

‘No, I’ve got a rental booked.’

Charlotte nodded and moved aside. She looked over her shoulder and said, ‘Don’t be a stranger,’ and then continued on her way. I saw her grandfather waiting for her and watching. He saw me but his eyes moved quickly to Charlotte and he probably didn’t see me raise my hand.

The rental was a white German saloon, which, as the friendly sales assistant told me, came fitted with snow tyres, which are a requirement of Swiss law during the winter months.

I loaded my bags, programmed the sat nav, switched the radio off and drove out of the airport. The low down torque of the big diesel engine had the pulling power of a small tugboat. I was soon on a sweeping dual-carriageway heading east and cruising effortlessly. Everything was going well. It felt like being on holiday.

An electronic rendition of “Rule, Britannia!” broke my peaceful contemplation. For some reason the K106 has it pre-programmed, not that a reminder was necessary.

I answered the call in good spirits.

The young man’s voice on the other end said, ‘This is Hoagy. We have some new information.’

I didn’t respond.

Hoagy continued and said, ‘We’ve had a small team working non-stop on the hole at the bank. The team is a mixture of computer experts and forensic accountants. They’ve made an initial report. It doesn’t look good for Casanova.’

‘Is Bazzer there?’

‘Bazzer,’ he repeated. ‘Who’s Bazzer?’

‘He wanted to call you Sundance.’

‘Oh, yes, umm, no, he’s not here. He knows I’m talking to you. He told me to call you.’ There was a pause. ‘Why did he want to call me Sundance?’

‘...because you look like a young Robert Redford.’

‘Oh yes, I see.’

Perhaps he didn’t know who Robert Redford was but he wasn’t going to admit that to me. He didn’t ask anything further.

‘Why doesn’t it look good for Casanova?’ I said.

‘Oh yes, well, because the money was transferred electronically using a senior clearance code. Someone has deleted all the files subsequently and the security records that the system should generate automatically are missing from the network log. However, a second imprint of the clearance code needed to authorise the transaction was stored on a duplicate system, used as a backup in the event of a primary system failure. The senior clearance code used was Casanova’s.’

‘Does it have to be him?’

‘Well, all senior employees at the highest level have a unique code that they create personally and are supposed to keep completely confidential. The security system culture is taken very seriously at the bank.’

‘Where did he transfer the money to?’

‘We don’t know yet. The team are still working on that.’

‘Do we know anymore about his possible location?’

‘...umm, no we don’t; not that I’m aware of anyway.’

I ended the call. Hoagy was starting to spoil my good mood.

The sun bounced sharply off the dry, salt stained tarmac and forced me to pull down the visor. I searched for my sunglasses and pushed them on.

The lake appeared; flat and glassy, dotted with painted wooden houses along its banks stepped between the fir trees like strings of decorative lights.

I followed the road beside the water, sweeping back and round until the flat gave way to the rising terrain. The slow gradient took me higher with deceptive ease. I caught a glimpse of a snowy peak high in the distance through the trees and realised the mountains were not far away.

Before long, I began the ascent in earnest. Gently at first, with a sweep and a rise, and then tighter turns, zigzag hairpins with long drops that encouraged concentration and respect.

An occasional house, or shop or garage appeared, built were a level step naturally allowed or someone had persuaded to allow.

At this height, the ground was white with snow and the roofs of the buildings held a thick wedge that glistened in the sunlight, but luckily, the road was still clear. It obviously hadn’t snowed recently and even when it did, the snowploughs were always quick to get things moving again.