Recoil - Andy McNab [133]
I walked over to Stefan, pulled his wallet and mobile out of his pocket. ‘You know who he deals with at the bank?’
‘Mr Nick, I know everything. Mr Massimo. He always deals with Mr Massimo Spenza.’
I scrolled through Stefan’s address book and found him. ‘OK, here’s the deal.’ I made sure the other two were listening. ‘Stefan stays here. Crucial, you take shit-head out and get him tucked away into his car. Sam, get your account details for a bank transfer on a bit of paper.’
I turned to Giuseppe and smiled. ‘How about you helping Mr Stefan make a big contribution to those kids over there in Africa, eh? And maybe you can take a few dollars back with you to Lazio . . .’
His face crinkled into the cartoon-papa smile.
Crucial disappeared with Standish over his shoulder and I briefed Giuseppe on what to say to Massimo.
Sam had written the details on a torn-off corner of a DRC map.
I frowned at Giuseppe. ‘One minute. It’s Sunday today, isn’t it?’
Giuseppe was back to his old form. ‘For people like Mr Stefan, the bank is always open. I have listened to him move money from one country to another at midnight from this very sofa. It’s no problem.’
I held Stefan’s limp index finger in one hand and the black card in the other. I looked at Giuseppe. ‘You sure you’re ready, mate?’
His smile faded as he composed himself and hit the dial button.
‘Hello, Massimo – how are you?’ The deep German-cum-slight-Middle-Eastern accent was uncanny. ‘I’m sorry to disturb you, but I’ll be leaving for China this evening and I want to transfer some cash to South Africa before I leave.’ Giuseppe listened and even winked at me before answering. ‘No, a different account this time. I want you to move exactly five million USD. Do you want the details now or the authentication?’
Giuseppe nodded towards Stefan’s hand. ‘But of course. Are you ready?’
I swiped Stefan’s forefinger down the identifier. The LCD display lit up automatically and the matrix of six numbers began to tumble. One by one they stopped to display a code. Massimo would be doing the same at his end, wherever that might be. As soon as it stopped, I held the display up to his face. Giuseppe read it out: ‘I have seven-three-eight-nine-one-three.’
He leaned over to Sam for the sheet of paper. He read the details, ending with a ‘By tomorrow midday, as usual? Thank you, Massimo.’ There was a pause. ‘No, I think it’ll be a long trip. Possibly a month, six weeks if the deal is successful. Thank you. Goodbye.’
Giuseppe sat back slowly on the sofa and turned off the mobile. He rested it in his hands on his lap, shocked at what he’d got away with. We all were. Sam had even stopped chewing the bank details.
Crucial came back in. ‘Well, what’s happening?’
I took the phone and checked it was off. ‘You’ve just got a big contribution to the church.’
Giuseppe might still be in shock, but we weren’t. I slapped his leg. ‘Well done, mate.’
Sam turned to Crucial. ‘He’s just moved five million US!’
Crucial bent down and gripped Stefan by his legs. ‘It’s no good to us if we don’t clean up our mess, man.’
Sam grabbed the other end and they started to drag Stefan to the car.
6
I gave Giuseppe a shake. ‘Get us some details so we can transfer some money to you, OK?’
Stefan’s cushion-covered head lolled against Sam’s arms as Crucial walked backwards with his feet.
‘Make it fast, Nick. We’ve got to get out of here.’
I shook Giuseppe’s leg. ‘Listen, mate, get with it.’
His face crinkled into a papa smile. ‘My sister. I send her money every month.’
‘Come on, then.’ I dragged him up. ‘Let’s send her some more.’
We walked along the marble corridor.
‘I’m going to sort everything out for you, Mr Nick.’ Giuseppe was getting with the programme. ‘I’ll destroy Mr Stefan’s passport, clean everything up, make it look like he’s left on a trip. Then I’ll play stupid. In a week’s time, I’ll leave my resignation note and go.’
We were at the staircase down to the kitchen. ‘Mr Nick, I have a confession to make.’
‘What’s that?’