Free to Trade (45 page)

'Why did you do it?' I said between clenched teeth. I was so angry it was a struggle to get the words out. 'Why did you have to do something so bloody stupid? Why did you ruin everything we have got here? And why did you kill Debbie?' My voice cracked as I said these last words.

'Calm down, laddie,' said Hamilton. 'You're too emotional.'

I lost it. 'What do you mean, calm down?' I shouted. 'Don't you understand what you have done? This is all a fucking game to you, isn't it? We are all just pieces in some never-ending puzzle for you to fiddle about with. But we are people, and you can't just get rid of us when we get in the way.'

I paused for breath. 'I respected you. God, how I respected you. I can't believe how fucking stupid I was. I don't know why you didn't just kill me.'

Hamilton's stare didn't waver. 'You're right,' he said. 'I should have killed you. That was an error. I was too soft. It was unfortunate Debbie had to die, but it was the only solution.'

I had an urge to hit Hamilton as hard as I could, but I resisted it. I looked over to where Rob was sitting, bolt upright in his chair, watching us.

'I suppose he's in on it, too?' I said with contempt. Hamilton must have told him to tell the police that I had killed Debbie.

'Oh, Rob's just a little scared insider trader,' said Hamilton. 'He made his five hundred pounds on Gypsum shares, and now he's afraid he is going to lose his job, just like you. So I asked him to tell the police a little story. Mind you, he seemed quite happy to do it. I don't think he likes you very much.'

Rob reddened and shifted in his chair.

'And I suppose you planted Debbie's earring in my flat?'

Hamilton just shrugged.

I calmed down. 'Well, anyway. It's all over now.'

A thin smile played across his lips. 'No, it isn't.'

He sounded confident. 'What do you mean?' I said.

'You are going to tear up those tickets.'

No way was I going to do that. 'Why?' I said.

Hamilton smiled again, and picked up the phone on the desk behind him. He dialled fourteen digits. America.

'Dick? It's Hamilton.' A pause for a response from Waigel. 'Listen, Dick. We may have some trouble here. I can't explain it all right now. But if I don't call back in five minutes, get hold of your friend and put our plan involving Cathy into action. Then get out of your office and disappear. Got that?'

Another pause as Waigel replied quickly. Hamilton looked up at the clock on the wall. 'OK, it's one thirty-three here now. If I am not back to you by one thirty-eight, do it.'

He put the phone down. He turned to me. 'I have been concerned about Cathy ever since she told me she was thinking about telling her bosses about Cash and Piper. So, just as a precaution, I have had Waigel organise someone to keep tabs on her so that if we need to dispose of her in a hurry, we can.'

I suddenly felt cold. Cathy! She would be somewhere in New York right now, but she wouldn't be alone. Someone was following her, watching her, waiting for the signal from Waigel to kill her. I couldn't allow that to happen, not after Debbie.

But was Hamilton bluffing? I didn't put it past him in a tight spot to come up with something like that. And if he was bluffing, I knew he would be convincing.

Hamilton followed my train of thought. 'I'm telling the truth, you know,' he said. 'Anyway, you can't take the risk, can you? I may be lying, but you wouldn't risk Cathy's life on that outside chance.'

He was right. We had been in enough situations where we had assessed risk together. It would be foolish to call his bluff, and he knew I wouldn't do it.

Hamilton's stare never left my face, reading everything he saw. He smiled. 'So, you're fond of her, are you? She's more to you than just another saleswoman?' He chuckled to himself. 'Well, well. You'll definitely have to tear up those tickets now, won't you?'

I was furious. He was right, I didn't have a choice. But I hated it. I hated to be outwitted by him when I was so close to nailing him. There he was in front of me, smiling slightly, calculating all the angles and getting it just right. As usual.

I looked at the clock. One thirty-five. Three minutes before he had to ring Waigel.

Hamilton said. 'Now, after you have torn up those tickets, write some replacements purchasing Phoenix Prosperity's stake in the SPV for twenty million dollars, for same-day settlement. I want you to tell administration to process the trade immediately, and call you back when the funds transfer is confirmed. I'll watch.'

I thought Hamilton's last instruction through. It would allow him to make sure Phoenix Prosperity didn't lose their $20 million after all.

Hamilton continued. 'I will call Dick Waigel every five minutes. If you try any funny stuff, or if he doesn't hear from me, Cathy is dead.'

I sighed. There was nothing for it but to do what Hamilton wanted. I sat down at my desk and pulled out some blank tickets. Just then the line flashed. Hamilton held out his hand to stop me, but he was too late. 'Yes?' I said.

'Paul, it's Robert Denny.'

'Oh, hallo,' I said.

'I know you can't talk now,' he said, 'but everything's ready for you to come round with Hamilton and Rob. The police are here, waiting.'

'Not Powell?' I said.

'Inspector Powell is here, but I've got his boss as well, Chief Inspector Deane. There are also two men from the Serious Fraud Office. And the FBI are standing by to snatch Waigel in New York.'

Hamilton couldn't hear what Denny was saying, but he was watching me closely. I looked up at the clock. One thirty-seven. Hamilton's eyes followed mine. 'One minute to go,' he said.

'Are they right outside his office?' I asked Denny.

'Hold on,' he said. I heard muffled voices on the other end of the line. They took for ever. I watched the second hand race round the face of the clock, heading fast for the number twelve. I knew our clocks were accurate to the second, I hoped Waigel's would be equally precise. 'Yes, they are right there.'

'I won't call Dick Waigel back unless you hang up now,' said Hamilton. I glanced at him. He meant it.

My mind raced. This was the best chance I would get to stop Hamilton. If I let it slip, there could never be any guarantee that Cathy would be safe. And I couldn't let him just walk away.

I took a decision.

'Listen closely,' I said to Denny, speaking rapidly. 'Tell the FBI to snatch Waigel right now. And send some police round here. Do it quick. We only have seconds. I'll explain in a minute.'

'Right,' said Denny, and rang off.

My heart was thumping at the risk I had taken. I put the phone down and stood up straight, looking directly at Hamilton. His eyes were wide open with surprise. He hadn't expected this. 'I wasn't bluffing,' he said. 'Cathy is dead.'

He bent down slowly, picked up his briefcase, and backed towards the door, his eyes never leaving my face.

I caught the movement of something rushing towards the desk beside Hamilton. Rob vaulted over it, sending a computer crashing to the ground, and hurled himself on to him.

They both hit the ground hard. Rob let out a cry and grabbed his shoulder. As Hamilton pulled himself to his feet, I leapt on top of him. He struggled, but Rob joined me, and in a few moments we had him pinned to the floor, Rob on his legs, and me on his shoulders.

'Tie his hands,' shouted Rob.

I looked for something to bind him, and grabbed at the electric lead sticking out of the computer that lay cracked on the floor. I yanked it out and tried to wrap it round Hamilton's hands.

It was difficult. Even with two of us, Hamilton was wriggling and thrashing, and we couldn't keep his wrists in one place long enough to tie them.

'Keep still!' I shouted.

Hamilton took no notice, and somehow managed to kick Rob hard in the ribs.

I took the flex and wrapped it round his neck, pulling his head back.

'Keep still, I said!'

He bucked and nearly threw me off his shoulders. I pulled back on the flex hard. Anger rushed through me. Here was the bastard who had betrayed me, deceived me, who had cheated, lied and killed. He would have murdered Cathy as well if he had had the chance. In fact, he might already have succeeded.

I gritted my teeth and pulled harder. The blood rushed in my ears. The body underneath me stopped moving. I half heard Rob shouting my name.

Then I felt strong hands grab the flex and pull it away from me. Other hands picked me up off Hamilton. I looked down at him. His head flopped to the ground, and he took huge wheezing gulps of air. Spittle dripped down from his open mouth. His face was bright red.

I slumped back into a chair, the anger draining out of me. A small voice of common sense told me I was glad I hadn't killed him. A policeman was kneeling over him, and another had his arms firmly on my shoulders. Two more were watching, one talking urgently into his radio. My mind cleared. Cathy! I leapt to my desk and rang Denny. He put me on a speakerphone with Chief Inspector Deane.

In a few seconds I told them what had happened. Deane had some questions.

I didn't answer them. I needed to know about Cathy. 'Did the FBI get Waigel?' I said. 'And had he made the phone call to the hit-man? Can you find out right now?'

'All right,' he said. He left me on the speakerphone. I could hear muffled radio conversation, but I couldn't make out the words. Two of the policemen handcuffed Hamilton and bundled him out of the trading room, still wheezing. I was glad he was out of my sight.

A very long minute later, Deane's voice came back on the phone. 'They've got Waigel,' he said.

'Had he made a phone call?' I said, my hopes raised.

'He was just putting the phone down when they entered his office.' Deane's voice was grim. 'He won't say who he was calling, but from the way he is acting, the FBI men there think it must be the hit-man.'

Oh God. I had blown it. Oh Cathy, Cathy, Cathy!

'Mr Murray?' It was Deane's voice, insistent. 'We need to know where she is.'

'Right. I'll find out.'

I hit the cancel button and called Cash.

'Y'allo.'

'Cash. It's all going wrong. Waigel has put a hit-man on to Cathy. Do you know where she is?'

'What's up? I thought you were going over to Denny's this afternoon. What happened?'

'Look, I have no time to talk. Just tell me where Cathy is, will you?'

'OK, OK. I've got her itinerary here. Let me see.' Come on. I willed him to hurry up. 'Here it is. She has a meeting at nine o'clock at Arab American Investment. That's at 520 Madison Avenue. She's staying at the Intercon. Knowing her, she's probably walking there right now.'

'Thanks. Talk to you later.'

I hung up, and got back to Deane. I told him what Cash had told me. 'Right,' he said. 'It's ten to two our time, that's ten to nine in New York. She should be almost there. I'll get the FBI on to it.'

I put down the phone. I sat hunched at my desk staring at the screens. I didn't take in any of the green figures and letters in front of my eyes. I was looking at a New York street, searching for Cathy.

The clock ticked loudly. The police radios behind me crackled. I was in my usual position, sitting at my desk, waiting for the phone to ring. But this time it wasn't paper money at stake. It was Cathy's life.

How could I have been so stupid? Why had I taken the risk? This wasn't some damn trade. Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!

The phone flashed. I picked it up. Down a fuzzy line, I heard the sound of traffic.

'Paul! It's Cathy.' I could hardly hear her voice, it was an urgent whisper. But she was alive! So far.

'Yes?'

'I'm scared. There's a man following me, I'm sure of it. He's followed me all the way up from the hotel.'

'What's he doing now?'

'He's leaning against the wall of a church, reading his paper, acting as if he hasn't seen me.'

'Is it crowded?'

'Yes. I'm right off Fifth Avenue. There are people everywhere.'

'Good. Now, where are you exactly?'

'I'm in a phone booth on Fifty-Third Street, just by the entrance to the subway station.'

'Hold on.' I turned and gave this information to the policeman behind me, who relayed it into his radio.

'Now, Cathy, just stay where you are. The police will be with you in a few minutes. Stay on the phone.'

'Who is he? What's he doing?' asked Cathy, sounding really scared.

'Waigel put him on to you. But don't worry, there's nothing he can do in a crowded street.' I tried to make myself sound as confident as possible, and I hoped I was right, but I really didn't know.

We stayed on the phone, too tense to talk, waiting. The bustle of Fifty-Third Street crackled down the phone lines: the noise of traffic, snatches of conversation from passers-by.

I watched the second hand crawl round the clock above me. Where had the police got to? Images of a gridlocked midtown Manhattan flashed before me. It could take ten minutes to go three blocks in the rush hour.

I started. Where was Cathy? I couldn't hear her. 'Cathy?'

'Yes, Paul, I'm here.'

Relief.

'Has the man moved?'

'No, he's still over by the church.'

'Good. Tell me if he does move, won't you?'

'All right.' A pause. 'Paul, I'm scared.' Cathy's voice sounded very small, very far away.

'Don't worry, it won't be long now.'

Then I heard them. The wail of sirens, getting louder.

'Oh my God!' she said. 'He's crossing the road. He's coming right towards me.'

'Drop the phone and run!' I shouted. 'Run!'

I heard the clatter of the phone banging against the booth. Then a crack and the sound of splintering plastic.

Half a second's silence.

Then screams. Women shrieking, men yelling, the sirens getting louder. A shout: 'She's been hit!' Another 'She's bleeding!' The sirens getting very loud. Large police voices ordering people to move back, make way.

'Cathy!' I shouted. 'Cathy!'

Then her voice. Cathy's sweet voice. Strained, sobbing, but still her voice. 'Paul?'

'Are you OK?'

'Yes. A woman's been hit, but I'm OK. I'm OK.'

CHAPTER 23