Page 55 of End Game
Monday, 30 July – day 4 of the Games
FAULKNER TURNED UP LATEas usual for their agreed meeting in Booth Watson’s chambers, but his QC feigned not to notice.
‘You mentioned over the phone,’ began Faulkner, after he had settled in a seat on the other side of the partners’ desk, ‘that Bernie Longe has been in touch with an interesting proposition.’
‘Itmightbe of interest,’ Booth Watson stressed, ‘but it’s hard to say. It seems that Longe has been given the opportunity to acquire the Olympic Stadium for ten million, but because the banks won’t deal with him, he can’t raise the full amount. He has managed to raise the deposit of one million pounds to secure the deal, but he wonders if you might be interested in going into business with him.’
‘By supplying him with the other nine million, in other words,’ said Miles.
‘The question is, where’s the profit?’ asked Booth Watson. ‘It’s common knowledge they’ll never be able to fill the stadium once the Olympics are over.’
‘The time has clearly come, BW, for you to start reading the back pages of your daily paper, as well as the front,’ suggested Miles, ‘because if you did, you’d have picked up the rumour that West Ham are considering renting the Olympic Stadium as their permanent home for two and a half million per annum, possibly more.’
‘Then how can Longe get his hands on the stadium for just ten million?’ asked Booth Watson, still sceptical.
‘Because five of the local councillors and two of their officials are on his payroll, asPrivate Eyenever stops reminding its readers. My bet is that he wants me to cover the nine million shortfall in return for splitting the profits fifty-fifty?’
‘That doesn’t come as a surprise,’ replied Booth Watson.
‘However, it’s not the percentage I have in mind,’ said Miles, ‘which is why I’ll need you to draft a contract that will leave him wishing he had offered you more than double to leave me.’
‘I’ll have the terms drawn up by the weekend,’ promised Booth Watson. ‘I also wonder whether we might use this new partnership to our advantage, making use of Bernie Longe’s particular expertise in another field.’
Miles waited for Booth Watson to continue.
‘Don’t forget, our Russian friends are expecting us to organize the urine spiking of two prominent athletes in order to get them disqualified. Longe has in the past been arrested, charged, but never convicted, for supplying “enhancing” drugs to young upcoming footballers.’
‘And never been convicted,’ repeated Miles.
‘Shall I arrange a meeting?’
‘Why not?’ said Miles. ‘What have I got to lose?’
‘Everything,’ replied Booth Watson, ‘because if Longe had to ditch you in order to save his own skin, he wouldn’t give it a first thought, let alone a second.’
‘As long as he needs my money to close the stadium deal, I’ve got him by the balls.’
‘But once he’s got your money,’ said Booth Watson, ‘it will then be in his best interest to see you back behind bars where you won’t be able to cause him any trouble.’
‘What a good idea.’ A smile appeared on Miles’s face. ‘Ifhewas behind bars, you could tear up the contract and there wouldn’t be a lot he could do about it.’
‘That’s a two-way street.’
Faulkner shrugged. ‘Then you’ll have to insert a clause that makes his a dead end.’
•••
Artemisia arrived at the athletes’ village just after ten, and Jim waved her through without even looking at her pass. She immediately went in search of Kelly, but there was no sign of her. She passed the rest of the morning wandering around the village, listening in to conversations and trying to get hold of something that could lead her to an exclusive – but aside from learning more than she had ever needed to know about the losers of various Olympic events, it was a wasted two hours.
She joined the queue for lunch and took a seat at the table where she’d previously met Kelly. She looked up every few moments, but there was still no sign of her. She was beginning to wonder if Kelly would open any doors, other than bedroom doors, when a familiar figure took the seat opposite her.
Artemisia didn’t enquire which countries she’d visited since they’d last seen each other and Kelly didn’t enlighten her. They spent a few minutes chatting about who had been eliminated or won medals the day before, although Kelly’s eyes didn’t stop looking over Artemisia’s shoulder, she assumed in search of foreign fields.
‘You see those two sitting at the next table?’ whispered Kelly.
Artemisia glanced across to see two athletes holding hands under the table. ‘Yes?’
‘They first met at the Berlin World Championships three years ago,’ said Kelly. ‘They’re both high jumpers. It’s so sad.’
