Nick appeared next to the table. His face was unreadable. Amelia took a bite of sashimi and waited for him to sit down.
When he’d also picked up a bite, she asked. ‘Why are you suspicious of the Canadians?’
‘I’m not,’ Nick replied evenly, ‘but I did learn something else today. In fact, that’s what that phone call was about.’
Amelia leaned forward. ‘What is it?’ ‘Prism’s CEO, Bruce Jennings, has a bit of reputation for doing dirty deals.’ Amelia frowned and Nick continued: ‘I’d heard some things in the past, but never dealt with him myself, so I can’t be sure.
‘What things? What did you hear?’
Nick hesitated, apparently unwilling to share what he’d heard. ‘They’re rumours, most likely untrue.’
‘Tell me anyway.’
Nick sighed. ‘There was a story quite a few years ago about how he’d had a short-term agreement with a partner to divide exploration costs, and of course profits, fifty-fifty, but when the exploration was successful, he denied the deal ever existed and ruined his partner financially. But it was long ago and probably not true, which is why I spoke to some people who do know him or have done business with him.’
‘And?’
‘They all, like the person I just spoke to, agree that he is smart and super-driven . . .’
‘But?’
‘But he has in fact done some dodgy things like milking partners and underpaying suppliers. It’s only been on a few occasions and nothing huge, but he isn’t known in the industry as a man of admirable business ethics. The consensus is that it is advantageous to work with him as long as you can keep an eye on him.’ Nick stopped, but Amelia could tell there was something else, so she waited for him to continue. ‘You have to consider this, Amelia: if Robert had found out and threatened to disclose the truth, it also gives the Canadians a motive if keeping things quiet would have been better for them.’
Amelia was silent. Thoughts raced through her mind. It seemed far-fetched, ludicrous even, but she had to admit that Nick had a point, that his reasoning wasn’t unsound. She had, like so many others the year before, assumed that Sibraz was the guilty party, but other scenarios, ones she didn’t really want to believe, looked possible now. Nick was right, she would have to at least consider them.
She looked up at him. ‘Well, I didn’t expect this, but it certainly creates a few more possibilities, doesn’t it? I think it may be time for me to pay Prism a visit.’
T
he girl’s short skirt revealed a pair of slender legs straining on shiny, pointy high heels. Under the straight line of the dark bangs that lay heavily on her eyebrows, her eyes were cool and her scrutiny disdainful. Without saying a word, she turned on her heel and gestured for Amelia to follow. She didn’t look to see if Amelia was following, but simply marched to the lifts where she waited for her guest with an impatient curl of the lip.
It was difficult not to be a little amused by the attitude, but only because Amelia had seen and experienced it so many times before in Moscow. Here the unspoken rules of engagement meant that the one who managed to be the most intimidating, the coolest and least obliging, was superior and had the upper hand. Or maybe the girl had simply sensed from her boss that this may not be an entirely welcome visitor. The most important thing, however, was that he had agreed to see her. It was an opportunity she wasn’t about to squander.
Thirty minutes earlier, upon arrival at Prism’s swanky offices, she’d been told that Bruce Jennings was running late and hadn’t yet arrived. When he’d walked in ten minutes later and it had seemed that everyone had momentarily forgotten about her presence in the reception area, she’d used the moment to compare the man stopping at the reception desk with the face she’d seen in press photographs.
He looked smaller in person and was impeccably groomed, his greying hair thick and fashionably styled. Perhaps Nick’s account of the man’s lack of ethics had unduly influenced her, but she could sense a deep arrogance in him, a belief that he was, and should be, in charge.
Maybe sensing her eyes on him, he had half-turned his head and seen her waiting in the sleek reception area. The pause had been minuscule. He’d nodded briefly, his demeanour aloof, and had made her wait another twenty minutes before the sullen girl had approached her. Apparently she was meant to get some sort of message. He may have agreed to see her, but it would only be when he was good and ready to do so. Which was interesting, to say the least.
His office, as modern and immaculate as its owner, was empty when she was finally shown in by the girl. Stark black and white photographs of what appeared to be Canadian landscapes hung on one feature wall and on another she saw a selection of photos showing Jennings in various official situations, shaking hands with an array of people, including several prominent international dignitaries. She wandered over to get a closer look. Two heads of state and several well-known politicians were instantly recognisable. Many of the photographs showed a bald man at Jennings’ side. In each he wore the same beaming smile and even from the photos she could tell that there was an understanding, even closeness between the two men. Curious, she leaned in to read the names below the photographs and realised that she recognised the bald man’s name from her press clippings: Carl Riverton, Prism’s Head of Operations. She wondered if she would get to meet him too, if he guarded Jennings as closely as he seemed to in the photos.
Amelia turned to have a seat, wondering how long Jennings would keep her waiting. She was surrounded by spotless glass and chrome surfaces which reflected light from every angle. A perfect surface, but what would she find underneath the display of money, glamour and power?
Jennings’ cologne preceded him and Amelia sat straighter as she heard him enter the outer office. She turned her head as he rushed forward with outstretched hand. The coolness of earlier in the reception area was gone, and had now been replaced with unexpected warmth and charm.
‘Mrs Preston, I’m sorry to have kept you waiting. It has been a slightly hectic morning here,’ he explained as he took her warm hands in his cool ones. ‘I recognised you in the lobby. It’s nice to finally meet you.’
She nodded and waited for him to move to the other side of his desk, but instead he ushered her to a deep red, modern leather sofa standing in one corner of the large room.
‘Coffee? Tea? Something else?’ he asked, with his hand hovering over the telephone.
‘Nothing for me, thank you,’ Amelia answered, urging herself to stay as cool as he appeared to be. The change in his demeanour was disconcerting and she had no idea how to respond to it.
He pressed a button and asked for one coffee, then moved to take a seat next to her on the sofa instead of taking one of the armchairs that stood opposite. He frowned and leaned forward slightly, his hand outstretched again, as if he was about to touch her.
‘How are you?’
Amelia almost laughed, wondering if the show of sugary sympathy was an attempt to hide something else. The triteness of the gesture, however, had the effect of making her feel more confident. She smiled gently, and looked straight into his eyes. They were a cool grey and had unusual golden flecks in them.
‘I am fine, Mr Jennings, thank you for asking.’
He leaned back, and she thought she saw the warmth in his eyes diminish a little. For a moment it seemed that his charm-and-sympathy offensive wouldn’t last, but he proved her wrong and persisted.
‘It must feel strange to be back here – where it all happened.’
‘Yes, it is somewhat,’ Amelia answered as the door opened and the same unsmiling girl walked in, carefully balancing a tray.
‘Thank you, that will be all,’ Bruce Jennings nodded in the girl’s direction and busied himself with stirring sugar into the strong, black coffee while she left the office with skinny hips swaying.
He screwed up his eyes as he took a sip of the coffee and then returned his gaze to Amelia. ‘Well, what brings you to Prism? What can I do for you?’
She made a quick decision to act as unthreateningly as she could, and injected some helplessness into her words. ‘As you said, it’s difficult to be back, but I felt I had to come. To say goodbye, to see if it’s possible to find closure of a kind. I haven’t been able to do that from afar, for some reason. It’s a tad clichéd, I realise, but I guess it’s an attempt to move on.’
He smiled at her, seemingly convinced and placated. ‘And I can help you do that?’
She hesitated, fiddling with the sleeve of her jacket, hoping she was playing a convincing role. ‘Maybe. Maybe you could tell me about the night Robert disappeared. That is, if you remember?’
Jennings took another sip of his coffee. ‘I’m sorry to disappoint you, but I wasn’t at the Marriott for very long that night. It was a typical get-together for Canadian companies and individuals with business interests in Russia. The embassy has always been very good at organising those things. It provides an opportunity to meet and connect with like-minded businessmen and women, but, as you know only too well, we were in the midst of these stressful negotiations with Sibraz, and I had a mountain of work to get back to, so I stayed for an hour, maybe an hour and a half, and then I left.’
Amelia contemplated his words. ‘But you did see Robert? Speak to him?’
‘Yes, of course,’ Jennings replied, sipping his coffee slowly. ‘We spoke often during those days and weeks.’
‘Can you tell me anything more? What did you talk about?’
‘Well, that night he seemed tired. He’d been working very hard to help us resolve the situation with Sibraz, but otherwise he was fine. At least, nothing seemed out of the ordinary.’
‘He didn’t seem worried, or nervous, or . . . ?’
Jennings thought for a moment, considering her question, but his face revealed little. If this man knew something, he was a good actor.
‘No, nothing I could detect. As you probably know,’ he continued, ‘Sibraz dropped a giant bombshell when they wanted to cancel the project with us. It was such an important achievement for us to have entered into a joint venture with them in the first place and Robert realised the value of keeping the deal intact. I think that’s all we talked about in those days. Like I said, he was tired, but there didn’t seem to be anything else.’ Jennings paused. ‘If it’s any consolation, I can tell you that Robert was invaluable during those weeks. It was thanks to him that the whole thing didn’t go up in smoke early on.’
They sat in silence for a moment. ‘I’m sorry,’ he continued, ‘it must be frustrating for you to know so little.’
Amelia nodded, but didn’t reply. She watched as he drank the last of his coffee.
‘What can you tell me about the latest news of Prism selling its stake in the joint venture with Sibraz?’
Her words had their effect. She saw him stiffen slightly. He probably thought she didn’t know about it, that she was just a naive widow who had no interest in or knowledge of the latest developments in the business world.
‘Yes,’ he said, pulling at his cufflinks, ‘after all that work, it seems ironic, doesn’t it? Yes,’ he said again, ‘we had to sell.’
‘Why?’
Bruce Jennings hesitated, but then answered smoothly. ‘Well, as you know, we are an exploration company, and while we thought and hoped we would go all the way with this one, we couldn’t raise enough money to stay in. And so, to our great disappointment, and after all the upheaval, we’ve had to sell.’
‘It must be upsetting for you after everything you did last year to save the whole thing from disintegration.’
He pressed his lips together briefly, then looked straight at her. ‘It is, yes. But it isn’t uncommon for exploration companies to stop their involvement at this stage. Sadly we’re not quite in the same league as the mining giants.’
‘You must have lost a great deal of money,’ Amelia said, watching him closely for a reaction.
Again her words found their mark. He became very still as he peered into his empty cup, as if its emptiness was of great annoyance to him.
After a moment he turned towards her. There was no mistake, all the warmth was gone from his eyes now, even if his voice remained neutral. ‘Mrs Preston, you know I cannot comment on confidential company matters like those. I would really like to help you “find closure” as you put it, but my company’s records and activities must still enjoy privacy.’
Amelia didn’t answer, but fired her next shot immediately, hoping she would hit the target again while he was at even the slightest disadvantage. ‘I’ve heard that the diamond deposit is actually significantly less valuable than what it was touted to be at the beginning of all this.’
His hand thrust into the space between them in a sudden, awkward movement that combined anger and restraint. ‘Where did you hear this?’
‘Is it true?’ Amelia demanded.
‘It’s a rumour. A nasty one at that, but just a rumour.’ He shook his head. ‘I’m just surprised that it reached even you.’
Even you
. He must be feeling the pressure if he was trying to get in a subtly demeaning dig at her so quickly. Amelia felt her heart pound as she contemplated her next words. There was no pretence anymore. She had shown her hand, so she might as well go all the way.
‘I’ve thought about this a lot, Mr Jennings,’ she said as she stood up and walked over to look out of the large windows overlooking the busy street below before turning to face him again. ‘If it’s more than a rumour, if it is indeed true, and Robert had discovered some or all of what was going on, he would have been in a perilous position.’
Jennings almost sneered, but she had to admire the man’s composure.
‘How so?’ he asked from where he remained on the sofa. ‘Let’s assume for a moment it’s true. If it were true, and if he had found out, we would have been delighted to learn of it at the time. Robert was on our side, in case you’ve forgotten. He would have warned us.’
‘That’s what I thought at first, too.’ Amelia replied, ‘But if you’d found out too, or known the truth already—’
‘We would have let the Russians cancel the deal and let things be!’ Jennings interrupted.