I'm still here in England while Caroline has gone suspiciously quiet in Rio. The last I heard, Bertrand Cottoneau had promised her tickets for the final at the Maracana Stadium in July. But I was worried when she got involved with a shady character called Mr Nim in Singapore, and traveled with him and his entourage, first class, to Brazil. He must have some kind of hold over her. Why otherwise would she have asked me to bring a million dollars in cash with me when I fly to Brazil? This kind of money movement is beyond my competence, so I phoned Cosimo Baldissi for advice:
“Are you all right, Cosimo? Speak up, I can
hardly hear you.”
“I had an accident, Roberto, and it hurts if I
laugh or shout.”
“Well this is no laughing matter. I’ve had a
peculiar message from Caroline. She says she needs a million dollars urgently.”
“Ah. That much?”
“Is that all you’ve got to say? You know
something about it? I know she’s been speaking to you and Bertrand. He’s
getting me a ticket for the final.”
“Yes, we’ll all be there. It will be like old
times.”
“I hope not. I couldn’t bear a repeat of
Copenhagen. Come on Cosimo; tell me what’s going on. Is Caroline in trouble?”
“If I tell you, you will be in danger. For
Caroline, the danger is a fate worse than death. For you, just death.” I had to
stifle a chuckle at the Italian’s amusing exaggerations.
“I don’t think they give the death penalty for
illicit currency movements. I’m sure Caroline has a good reason for needing the
money. I just need some advice on how to raise it and how to move it to Brazil.”
“How much has Caroline told you? Did she tell
you about my accident?”
“No. She told me about meeting you and Bertrand
and going to Brazil via Singapore for a financial directors’ conference. Then
she had a problem with her bank account and she used mine to send a lot of
money to Bertrand. It was six hundred thousand euros. So why does she need a
million dollars now? Caroline’s usually tight with money.”
“She’s trying to help Bertrand. He has many
problems. He’s not the same man since Francine left him for New York. And he
has to deal with that FIFA man, Cleb Fludder, who promises to retire and then
stays on to wreak more havoc. Bertrand says he is destroying the beautiful
game, and Cleb thinks Bertrand is after his job. He’s right, of course.”
“I’ve known Caroline to be generous, but not
with money. And she doesn’t care about football. It must be something else.”
“Do you know about Caroline’s gambling habit?”
“Sorry Cosimo, Caroline doesn’t gamble. She
calculates. You wouldn’t believe the grief she gives me when I bet twenty
pounds on the Manchester United score.”
“People change when they are exposed to new
experiences. She spent a week with Prince Lippi and picked up a taste for the
casino. He introduced her to some high rollers. I expect she needs the money to
settle a gambling debt.”
“Impossible. If you think that, you don’t know
Caroline. It must be something else. But whatever she needs it for, will you
help me?”
“Of course, anything for Caroline. What assets
do you have?”
“Assets? Loans, more likely. We don’t even have
pensions. Everything’s tied up in the house. We put every penny we had into it
and then borrowed a lot more.”
“How much is it worth?”
“Caroline says two million, but she likes to
talk it up.”
“You must live in a mansion.”
“No, we live in Surrey. House prices around
London are crazy.”
“And the mortgage?”
“Nearly a million.”
“There are companies which will buy a house
quickly at a discount. I will email you two names that can be trusted a little
bit. Sell the house, and I will help with the transfer of funds. We will need a
friendly bank with an operation in Brazil. I will speak to Von Wolfswinkle.” (extract from Shameless Corruption)
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