“Dead end,” said Dov. Then, with a glint in his eye: “But we can find out.”
“We can find out anything,” added Isaac. “Say the word.”
Danni shook her head. She had a very good idea to whom the account in Liechtenstein belonged. “And the email De Bourbon sent prior to his arrest. Did you get that, too?”
“LdotL-iatF-Tdot com.”
“A name, please, boys.”
“London Li. An investigative reporter with theFinancial Times.”
Danni spun in her chair, palming the chunk of lead. She remembered the flash of the policeman’s pistol, the sharp stinging in her thigh. On that night in Damascus, she had had something in her possession the Syrians wanted. Something they were willing to kill for.
She didn’t know who London Li was, but she did know theFinancial Times. There was no more powerful a news organization. And she knew what any investigative journalist would do if she learned about sovereign wealth funds defrauding investors of billions of dollars. “What did De Bourbon tell her?”
“Not much. No names. No countries. Just a few clues.”
“Is it enough to go on?”
“Yes,” said Isaac, without hesitation.
“Probably,” said Dov. “It would be for me.”
Danni slapped her palms on the desk. Meeting concluded. It was a gesture she’d learned from her father. “Give me everything you have.”
“Sent to your box before we came up,” said Dov.
“You’re good boys.” Danni thanked the engineers and sent them on their way, telling them to get a good night’s sleep and, for God’s sake, to shower before coming back tomorrow.
Danni opened the drawer of the cabinet behind her and removed a bottle of Wyborowa, pouring herself a generous measure of the Polish vodka.Ah, Signor Borgia. Ah, Luca.Not industrial espionage at all, at least not the way she saw it. More like blackmail or extortion. Or…justice. Though not from Borgia’s point of view.
She drank her vodka in one swallow, enjoying the burn, how her eyes watered.This is why we do not do business with private individuals or enterprises.Certainly, they had an obligation to Borgia. Without him, she would not be sitting at this desk. The SON Group would not exist.And yet…
The Saudis had implanted SON software in a journalist’s phone and used it to read every piece of correspondence on the mobile device, track his every move, listen to his phone conversations, read his text messages, and, in the end, lure him to a meeting and execute him. Would not a journalist who threatened to expose the theft of so many billions of dollars merit a similar fate?
And what of Rafael de Bourbon?
Danni had no reason to believe Luca Borgia was a murderer. Then again, she had no reason not to. In her former profession, one erred on the side of caution or one died.
Danni knew whose name was on the account at the Bank of Liechtenstein.
And yet…
She poured herself another drink, then picked up the phone. The warm baritone voice answered promptly. “Luca? It’s Danni Pine. I have some news. You had better sit down.”
Chapter 24
Singapore
The Lion City.
London Li was playing tourist in her hometown. Phone at the ready to snap a photo, she walked down Orchard Road marveling at the glittering malls, each fancier than the last, taking in the succession of luxury boutiques. Prada, Gucci, Burberry. On and on.
London stopped at the corner, waiting for the light to turn. Mercedes, Mercedes, BMW, Porsche. The cars zipped past. Did anyone still drive Japanese cars? Oh yes, a Lexus. And every one of them slapped with a two hundred percent duty upon landing. This was the Asian miracle on steroids.
The light changed. London crossed the street, swallowed by a sea of pedestrians, most of them her age or younger, and far better dressed. She wore a pair of old shorts, a loose T-shirt, a floppy brimmed sun hat with her hair tucked up, cheap sunglasses, and a pair of flip-flops. A mainlander, people would say. A country mouse. From Chongqing, not Shanghai, bless her soul.
Orchard Road was a four-lane thoroughfare, Singapore’s Fifth Avenue, Rodeo Drive, and Champs-Élysées rolled into one, with a shot of adrenaline added for good measure. The architecture, the design, the overwhelming “Wow” of it all. Everything so clean, modern, and, dare she say it…Singaporean. The entire area sparkled with success, optimism, the indomitability of the human spirit. Everything really was possible.
