China in Her Hand: The Island Connection, #4

By Graham Hamer

Lynn and Suyin both have good reason to hate Ambrose Carson. When nine wealthy Chinese businessmen include Ambrose in their investment plans, Suyin is nominated to act as their intermediary. But she is secretly driven by events of the past, and Ambrose finds that getting the funds together for the planned investment does not run smoothly. Ambrose needs a few million more to match the Chinese investors and plans to short sell Domtech International shares after he has disposed of it's CEO, Dominic Dawson. When he instructs his hired thug to kill Dominic, the result is not one that he could have foreseen, and not one that he has any control over. Lynn, meanwhile is making plans for the eventual showdown, unaware that Suyin has a secret agenda of her own.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Graham Hamer
• Release date: Dec 3, 2016
• ISBN: 9781540108678

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

Ambrose Carson leaned forward and stabbed the paper on the other side of his desk with his finger. Just sign the letter, Mr Dawson. You'll be free to leave and your family won't be harmed.

This is bloody preposterous, Dominic Dawson growled. What's stopping me walking straight out of here and going to the police?

"As I've already explained, Mr Dawson, that would be very foolish indeed. You'd never make it past the front door. You saw the size of Stefan when he brought you here. He would have no problem disposing of you, and then the share values would drop anyway, and I'd still make a profit. I'm trying to do this the civilised way but you're not helping.

You sign that letter of resignation, leave the company immediately, take a holiday for a week or two and you'll get to watch your young family grow up strong and healthy. You mess me about and even if Marek, that rather unpleasant man you just saw manhandling your wife, doesn't get his hands on you straight away, you and your wife and children will be looking over your shoulders for the rest of your lives. I have a very long memory, Mr Dawson, and Marek has no conscience, so why not just be sensible and get this over with."

You're bluffing. You wouldn't dare.

Ambrose Carson stared at his visitor, with black eyes like a shark. He shot the cuffs of his spotless white shirt. Don't ever underestimate me, Mr Dawson. I never bluff, as some people have already discovered to their dismay. My advice to you would be to sign that letter and live a long, healthy life.

Meanwhile, you wait a few days for the stock to tumble in value and make about eight million pounds profit.

I've just sold a load of your Company's shares that I don't yet own. When the price falls, I will buy what I need and make a big fat profit. It's called short selling Mr Dawson and it happens every day of the week. It won't even cost you anything. If you hadn't been so successful at single-handedly creating a successful company, your resignation would not have such a big effect on the stock values. Now sign the letter, please, and then we can both get on with our lives.

No, I won't. This is just unacceptable. How do I know that webcam link was authentic? The quality wasn't very good.

You've already said that once and I already acknowledged the lack of quality. The conditions of your wife's temporary confinement aren't the best but I'm sure it was good enough for you to recognise the fear in her eyes.

Ambrose Carson tapped a key on his laptop keyboard and the monitor lit up again. He clicked a key and the bruised and battered face of Dominic Dawson's wife, in a darkened room, filled the screen. Her head was down and her hair hung loose across her face. Ambrose Carson said, If you don't think it's your wife, Mr Dawson, by all means go ahead and talk to her. We're now on two-way conversation on Skype.

Dominic Dawson looked at the face on the screen and said, Hello? Linda, can you hear me?

The woman looked up, but only by a few degrees. Oh Dom. What's happening. They've taken the kids. They say they're going to kill them if you don't do what they want. Me as well. We're being held at the old... Aggh!

On the screen, a large fist had punched Dominic's wife in the face and she disappeared from view. She could be heard crying in the background.

For God's sake, Dominic shouted, Stop this farce. Okay, I'll sign your stupid letter, just stop hurting that woman.

Ambrose cut the connection again. Read what we've written and then sign it. We'll courier it to your corporate headquarters later today. Just be sure to make yourself scarce for a few days so there are no awkward questions while the stock prices tumble. When it's over, you can re-emerge and tell people that you had a temporary breakdown or something. As long as you keep your mouth shut about what really happened, there's no reason why you shouldn't live a long and happy life.

Dominic scowled as Ambrose Carson checked his Rolex watch then faked cleaning some imaginary dirt from under his well-groomed fingernails. He took a minute to read his resignation letter. It wasn't complicated, just quoting the pressure of the business as his reasons and apologising to everybody who would be hurt by his actions.

This isn't the sort of letter I would write if I was resigning.

Just sign the damn letter as it is, Mr Dawson. It's short and to the point because we want the minimum discussion about your reasons for resigning. If you reappoint yourself chairman in a couple of week's time, I don't give a damn; I just need your stock to drop in the next few days, then I'm done with you. You can carry on as if nothing happened. In fact, it would be far better for your whole family if you did exactly that. Do you understand what I'm saying?

Suddenly Dominic didn't care - he just wanted this over with. He signed the letter and threw the pen on the desk. Can I go now?

Certainly, Ambrose said. Your wife will be taken home and reunited with your children.

"Don't be such a prick, Carson. You know and I know that wasn't my wife. For a start, my wife's name is Jenny not Linda, but your actress seems to have forgotten that little detail. Also, she called me 'Dom' which is an abbreviation my wife hates. She would never call me that. And she referred to the children as 'the kids'. Again, something my wife would never do. She always calls them 'the children'. Your actress took a hit that was unnecessary." As soon as he'd said it, Dominic Dawson knew he should have kept his mouth shut.

Ambrose Carson stared at him with half closed eyes and shrugged. Okay, you rumbled our little ruse, but it makes no difference because if you don't allow this resignation to go through, we really will grab your wife and children. And in case you are ever tempted to open your mouth, Mr Dawson, I can only remind you that the likes of Stefan, who brought you here, and Marek, whose fist you just saw in action, are never more than a phone call away, only next time it would be terminal for all of you. He pressed a button on his desk and, a moment later, the door opened and a slightly-build but well-proportioned woman with an oriental face entered the room. Suyin, can you find Stefan and ask him to take Mr Dawson back to his hotel please. Our business here is concluded. And tell Stefan to use the Marine Drive, it's a nice view from there.

As the lady and Dominic Dawson left, the subtle aroma of her perfume reached out towards Ambrose like the rays of the setting sun that reach far out over the plain. He recognised it immediately as one of the most expensive perfumes he had ever come across. Six months before, when they had first met in London, he had tried to impress her, hoping she would visit his hotel room that night. As their taxi took them along Brompton Road in Knightsbridge, she had been wearing the same perfume and he had asked her what it was. She told him it was Notorious by Ralph Lauren and was only available from Harrods, the store they were then passing. He had offered to buy her a bottle, but withdrew the offer when the £2,000 price tag had been mentioned. She had turned down his offer to share his bed and had done so ever since.

Ambrose Carson, picked up the letter and read it through again. Pity they couldn't use it - it was professional and looked right, just like him. At fifty years old, Ambrose put in a lot of time and effort in on his appearance. He knew the importance of staying fit, looking smart, and dressing the part. Whilst working, he wore nothing other than top quality, standard charcoal grey suits that were kept clean, pressed and ready-to-go at all times. He wore old school ties from educational establishments he'd never attended, but it paid to rub shoulders with those to whom wealth came naturally. Clean shaven, well groomed, and smelling subtly of an expensive cologne, nobody on the Isle of Man would ever mistake him for just an ordinary man in the street. His was an image that he had spent years cultivating.

Will it work? asked Suyin, stepping back into the room.

Always has in the past. And you told Stefan to take him along the Marine Drive?

I did. I assume that was a code and he plans to dump the poor guy over the edge.

Ambrose Carson nodded. I discussed it with Stefan earlier. He reckons the cliffs are over one hundred feet high just before you get to the gate across the road. If Dawson hadn't spotted that it wasn't his wife, he'd have been taken back to his hotel. Judging by the look on your face, you don't approve of my actions.

No, I don't. I'm here to help you maximize the sale of your assets so you can take part in a serious investment. I witnessed illegality in China, but I have never been comfortable with murder just to make a financial gain.

Eight million pounds is quite a big gain, Suyin. I don't enjoy disposing of people, but sometimes it becomes necessary. Today, it became necessary.

Suyin's expression left it clear that she didn't agree.

Have you already told Marek we're done with the actress? Ambrose asked.

Yes. He said she took the hit like a pro and has no idea who she was working for, so I told him to pay her off and send her home.

Well I disagree. She didn't notice that Dawson called her by the wrong name and she also made a slip up, calling him 'Dom'. Up till then I thought she was quite convincing and she'd done a good job with the make-up. But when she was instructed to study Mrs Dawson, she should have studied more than just her speech and appearance. I guess we'll have to let it go this time, but if we do it again, the actress should be briefed more thoroughly. What of the real Mrs Dawson?

She's probably spent the day knitting socks or drinking tea at a meeting of the local ladies guild.

Okay, so we're all clear then. He screwed the letter up and threw it in his waste basket. No use for that now. When Dawson realised we didn't have his wife, it should have been obvious to him that, if we'd just let him go, he'd have been on the phone to the police within five minutes of getting back to his hotel. It's always tidier when they resign, but his death will work just as well. Stupid of him to say anything; he should have just kept his mouth shut.

I'm curious. What made you risk using an actress? If you were going to pull a stunt like this, why didn't you take his wife for real?

Basic psychology, Suyin. It all gets too personal if you manhandle the wife. Once we let them both go, they get talking and wifey gets all upset because she was dragged into it and, because women are usually illogical, she decides to ignore my warnings about not telling people. It's easier just to use an actress and then, when it's all over, the couple actually feel grateful that the wife wasn't involved, so they keep their mouths shut. I learned that one from hard experience a few years ago and it's worked almost every time.

Well I still feel that you're pushing your luck to take a risk on the stock market so close to tying up the Chinese deal.

There's no luck involved, Suyin. Dominic Dawson will turn up dead today or tomorrow as soon as some dog walker spots his body on the rocks. The share prices in Domtech International will crash because he was the big figurehead who started and has led the business. I will buy enough shares at rock bottom prices to cover my sales, and we'll be home dry. In fact, do you want a little something to celebrate?

No. Murder's not my thing... I'll stick with tonic, I think. What about you?

I'll have a large glass of that 30 year old Suntory Hibiki, Ambrose said. It's got a lovely oaky finish.

Should have at that price!

The petite lady glided to a pair of wide walnut doors and swung them open to reveal a well-stocked bar behind. Ambrose Carson studied her rear view with as much interest as always. Age thirty-five, slim, and dressed in pencil skirt, high heels and white silk blouse, Suyin had the sort of figure and presence that made men look twice. The fact that she also had an IQ that was off the scale wasn't something that Ambrose ever thought about, because that particular piece of information wasn't mentioned in the personal file that had come from the investigation agency in Hong Kong. He watched as she poured a glass of tonic for herself and a large measure of Japanese whisky from the Waterford cut-glass decanter for him. She added one ice cube to each drink and a slice of lemon to hers then moved back to the desk and handed Ambrose his glass before sitting down in the visitor chair.

Thank you, he said, now you can update me with the state of play regarding our Chinese friends.

Suyin sipped her tonic and said, Seven of the nine are financed. The other two are certainties in principle, but haven't yet confirmed that they have the whole amount of money ready to transfer. They may be in a similar position to you, just finalising the sale of some assets.

* * *

The slightly-built young lady got up from the bed and padded over the thick white carpet to the en-suite bathroom. Moments later, she coasted back, lithe as a panther, and sat naked on the edge of the bed next to a woman whose chestnut hair was cut stylishly around a face that was attractive, but not striking. She lay back on the pillow with her hands behind her head watching the younger lady.

Shall I go now? the younger one asked.

No, Danni, if you look on the dresser over there there's some more cash. If you're okay for time, I want you to stay for a little while and we have a chat.

I don't charge for talking, Danni laughed. She bent her head and kissed Lynn Addison, the tip of her tongue exploring her lips and mouth which were as sweet as a ripe fig. When she lifted her head, she said, In fact, sex with you is so good, I'm beginning to feel guilty about charging at all. But if I didn't Jimmy would know and there'd be all sorts of problems.

Lynn smiled, eased from the between the sheets, and pulled on a thin housecoat. Well that's what I want to talk to you about, Danni. Get dressed, take that cash, head down to the lounge, and pour us both a drink while I grab a quick shower. I'll see you down there in a few minutes.

Danni did as she was asked but Lynn stayed and watched her dress, admiring, not for the first time, her short, straight nose, kissable mouth, clear green eyes that were full of life, and light brown hair streaked with subtle highlights. Danni was about five foot four - but only when she wore high-heeled boots. Yet a lot of very good things were condensed into that precise stature and a minimal sprinkling of almost unnoticeable freckles emphasised the fact that she needed no make-up to look drop dead gorgeous. She was the only person Lynn knew who looked as good after a frenzied session of hot sexual activity as she had when she had arrived at the house an hour before.

Danni said, You like watching me dress, don't you? I've noticed, you always stay and watch.

Lynn even liked the way Danni talked - she was well-spoken and well-bred without having to advertise it through the unnatural use of her vocal chords. If I had a body like yours, she replied, I would have to stand in front of the mirror and watch while I put my own clothes on. She paused for a moment. I like what I see on the inside too, Danni. There are a lot of good things going on in there. Then she stepped into the en suite and left the young lady with a contented smile on her face.

A moment later, Danni heard the shower running. She checked her hair in the mirror and left the bedroom. She was joined by Lynn ten minutes later. I made a jug of coffee, Danni said. Bit early in the day to hit the hard stuff. She left for the kitchen, came back with two mugs, and sat next to her client though, like Lynn, she'd felt for a long time that their relationship was more multi-layered than just escort and client. What do you want to talk about? she asked. Politics, religion, astrophysics?

Lynn laughed. A slightly square nose kept her face the wrong side of remarkable, yet her soft honey-coloured skin radiated her enjoyment of life and Lynn was well able to make the best of what she had. Her laughter tinkled like a wind chime in a breath of spring air. I prefer to talk about you for a minute, and then I'll tell you what I need. I think we can help each other to achieve more of the things we want in life.

You seem to have achieved a lot already, Danni said, waving a finger round at the generous lounge and its sumptuous furnishings. Stuff like this doesn't come cheap, if you don't mind me saying.

You're right, and I don't mind you saying at all, because you're just stating a simple and obvious fact. But all of this was paid for with blood, sweat and tears over the last twenty years. It's only now, as I'm approaching forty that I'm able to sit back a little and enjoy it.

Danni's face expressed surprise. You're never forty, Lynn.

Not yet. Not quite!

But I've had you pegged as about thirty-two or thirty-three.

And I know a good line of bullshit when I hear it!

Danni laughed. Well, alright, thirty-four or five, but I promise you, I never thought of you as being close to forty. I don't need to tell you that you're fit, do I?

Lynn smiled. Straight back at you on that one. With a body like yours, it's no wonder you chose escorting.

Didn't choose it. Danni mumbled. It chose me.

Lynn said nothing, but it was obvious she was waiting for more.

You look as though you're expecting my life story, Danni said.

Just a summary will do. I don't mean to be nosy, but you'll find out in a few minutes that it's relevant. I'm not doing it just to be inquisitive.

Danni took a sip of her coffee and rested the bottom of the mug on her thigh. Okay, I trust you to keep it to yourself so, a quick guided tour of the life of Danni - real name Olivianna Cornthwaite...

No, you're kidding, surely?

Danni laughed. "Yes, I'm kidding. Real name Olivia Corlett. I'm Manx born and bred and I'm now twenty-four. When I was seventeen, I was destined for great things, university, world is my oyster and all that, and then came a man they nickname Dan Dare with a pocket full of marijuana. Within months, I had moved on to using crack cocaine. And before you ask, I've been clean for over four years and have no intention of ever going back to that dark place. Meanwhile though, the hopes and dreams of college and university followed by a glittering career in medicine were dashed, only to be replaced by the disappointment and shame of my parents.

While I was using, I needed to finance my habit and stealing from my parents became so bad that they no longer wanted me in the house if I wasn't prepared to go for treatment - which I wasn't at that time."

So you became an escort?

I became a prostitute, Lynn. Subtle difference. There are no actual street prostitutes here on the Isle of Man, but I guess I was the next thing to it. I became friendly with a woman called Celia Taggart. She was a few years older than me and was married and very good looking. She was also bored and liked nice things and was willing to sell herself for cash while her husband was at work. She's dead now. When her husband found out what she was up to, he killed her.

Is that the guy who killed a copper too? I read about that at the time.

Yeah, well the copper was bent and had been getting freebies off Celia to keep his mouth shut about her activities. Not being the brightest Neanderthal to walk the streets, he opened his mouth anyway and the husband killed both him and his wife. He's sewing mail bags in the Jurby Hilton for the next twenty years. Meanwhile, though, Celia taught me all I needed to know to make a living as a call girl.

With women or with men?

"Nearly always men, but sometimes we'd get a couple who'd want to spice up