‘I thought he had another woman, but he was not like that, my Rodrigo.’
‘A good man?’ Isaac asked.
‘To me he was.’
‘But you knew what he did?’
‘He always said he would stop, and then we would buy a house in Brazil and make lots of babies.’
‘We have recovered a body from the River Thames. Why do you think it may be him? Why have you not come forward before?’ Isaac asked. He had been joined in his office by Wendy Gladstone.
‘I wanted to, but I knew what he was.’
‘A drug dealer?’ Wendy said.
‘My Rodrigo is driven by ambition.’
‘How long have you been in England?’ Isaac asked.
‘Two years.’
‘Legally?’
‘Yes.’
Isaac did not intend to follow that line of enquiry. If Maria Cidade had overstayed her visa, he would report it to the authorities another time. The more important matter was the current case, and if the body recovered from the river, and now with Pathology, proved to be Rodrigo Fuentes, then the woman who sat in his office was the closest person to him.
‘Tell me about Rodrigo,’ Isaac said. ‘Describe him.’
‘Tall, the same colour as me.’
‘His age?’
‘Thirty-seven.’
‘His medical history. Was he in good health?’ Wendy asked.
‘He broke his arm about six months ago,’ Maria said. ‘He fell off his motorbike.’
Isaac knew that he needed to talk to Graham Pickett, the pathologist.
***
Four Old Etonians met. It was unusual for them to meet often. Typically all communication was conducted by phone and email. This time there was to be an extraordinary meeting.
‘We agreed on condition of our anonymity,’ Fortescue, the parliamentarian said. There were others in Westminster who would say he was anonymous there as well.
‘I have always respected that,’ the fourth man said.
‘That may be, but if they catch you, they’ll find us,’ Fortescue said. The other two men in the room nodded their acknowledgement.
‘I don’t see how.’
‘There’s another body,’ Griffiths, the businessman, said. He was not as firm in his criticism. He had used the money that he had gained to stave off impending financial disaster. The supermarket chain that had been attempting to undercut him, to force him out of business, had failed to do so. Every time they lowered the price of an item, he would go lower. In the end, the competitor, realising there was nothing to be gained, had backed off, and discussions were underway to form an alliance to their mutual benefit. Or, at least, the benefit of the two supermarket chains. With them working in collusion, they would become a monopoly in some parts of the country. Then there would be a price war to drive out anyone else who threatened them. Griffiths was delighted that he had accepted the fourth man’s offer, but his anonymity was still threatened; he knew that.
Lord Allerton was also concerned, but still pleased with the arrangement. The extra money had secured him financially, and he no longer needed to admit the obtrusive tourists into his home.
None of the four had any concern about the financial viability of the venture, although none relished their good life being affected by their identities being revealed, and three of them knew that to be a distinct possibility.
‘This man you’re using,’ Allerton asked. ‘Can he be trusted?’
‘He’s done a good job,’ the fourth man replied.
‘That’s not what I asked.’
‘I’ve trusted him up till now.’
‘But…’
‘He may need to go.’
‘Another death?’ Griffiths asked.
‘It’s always possible.’
‘But why? Each death brings the police closer to us,’ Fortescue said.
‘May I remind you that I have made every one of you rich,’ the fourth man said.
‘We were rich before,’ Griffiths reminded him.
‘You all had your reasons for joining with me.’
‘That’s as may be,’ Allerton said, ‘but we didn’t count on people dying.’
‘That’s sheer hypocrisy, and you know it.’ The fourth man was angry.
‘I don’t see why.’
‘So if someone dies of a drug overdose, a drug that you supplied, you’re not concerned.’
‘They don’t connect back to us.’
‘But if they do? What did you expect when you became involved with this, that it would be a bed of roses? We’re dealing with illicit Class A drugs here, not running a chain of supermarkets, or pontificating in Parliament, or prancing around a stately home in a deerstalker hat and shooting poachers. We’re dealing with the underbelly of society, the scum, not the members of a club for gentlemen.’
Three men sat stunned. In all the years since they had formed the pact at Eton College, they had never raised a voice in anger at each other.
Griffiths spoke for the three. ‘You need to protect us,’ he said.
‘I am. Believe me, my friends, I know what I’m doing.’
Lord Allerton sat quietly. He was not sure what to do next. He only wanted to be back at home with his family. ‘I want out,’ he said.
‘It doesn’t work like that,’ the fourth man said.
‘Why?’
‘You three are my protection.’
‘How?’
‘If this doesn’t work out, if the police get too close, I need you three to get me out of the country and to ensure that I live to a ripe old age.’
‘And if we don’t?’ Griffiths asked.
‘You know the answer to that question.’
‘You’ll tell the police all about us.’
‘If I’m going to prison, I’m not going alone. I need people of my own class as cellmates.’
‘You’re blackmailing us,’ Allerton said.
‘It’s not blackmail, it’s survival. All three of you were pleased to go along when the money was flowing and you were isolated in your ivory towers. Now the heat’s on, you’re all chickening out.’
The meeting ended badly. All four shook hands, offered words of friendship, but it was all a pretence. Only one man knew the way forward. He needed to act decisively and soon.
