Free 48 Hours - A City of London Thriller by J Jackson Bentley

proud of
his range of dialects.
    “ Mr Josh, yes, I am ready. The goods are here.” The Egyptian
paused for a moment. “I will confirm that this is a private
transaction, between two men of honour?”
    Bob replied and confirmed that he would pay the money directly
into Mr Nour’s personal bank account and not into the business
account. The merchant gave Bob his bank account details and wished
him well until they met at noon.
    ***
    It was almost half past eleven when Josh’s phone buzzed with a
text message. The phone was back on the docking station that the
police were using to trace the caller. Josh, Dee and Inspector
Boniface peered at the small screen.
    “ Hi Josh,
    Just an half an hour to go until payment is due or...... well
we won’t go into that. Here are the details of my bank account. If
I don’t hear that my account has been credited by noon the deal is
off. By the way, make sure that your money is labelled as coming
from you. There is a lot of activity in my account and I wouldn’t
want to miss your payment.
    Bob.”
    Boniface was reading the bank account number from the screen
and repeating the numbers and the sort code to someone on the other
end of the telephone line.
    “ Right, Josh, your money will be there in five minutes. As
soon as we receive the electronic receipt we’ll trace the account
holder and start tracking the money. My guess is that it will
bounce around the world for a few hours and settle In Grand Cayman
or Switzerland overnight.”
    Boniface seemed confident that the money could not escape the
police net. I was not so sure. It seemed to me that Bob had been a
step ahead of us all along, and whilst I didn’t know how it could
be done, I suspected that Bob had found a way of transferring the
money - my money - without leaving a trail. I had an uncomfortable
feeling that I would not be getting it back.

Chapter 16
    Nour Jewellery Design, Hatton Garden, London. Friday,
11:50am.
    The shop was small but beautifully furnished. It had the
appearance of a consulting room as there were no gems on display,
but each of the two magnificent carved walnut desks carried a
brochure showing exquisite jewellery. Abasi Nour was a neat
Egyptian man with a pencil moustache and a linen suit which was
unsuited to the weather. He rose from his chair as Bob entered the
shop, having been buzzed in through the security door.
    “ Mr Josh, how nice to see you again,” the shop owner said
cheerily as he greeted the tall moustached man with the
unconvincing toupee. His own hair was dyed jet black and carefully
styled to cover his whole head.
    The two men sat down and Bob handed over his business card. It
read “Josh Hammond, Senior Loss Analyst.”
    “ Mr Nour, as you know this first transaction....”
    Mr Nour held up his hand to stop Bob speaking. “Halima, could
you leave us please?” The spectacularly attractive olive skinned
girl at the other desk rose, smiled and exited through the door at
the back of the shop.
    “ Sorry, Mr Josh, but we cannot be too careful. Now, you were
saying.”
    “ Mr Nour, this is the first bonus payment of the year. There
is another due later in the year, which will be a little larger, I
hope. And I would like to do the same again if this transaction is
beneficial.”
    “ Yes, indeed, London City bonuses are both legendary and
generous to humble merchants like myself.”
    “ Shall we get on?” Bob prompted. “The money has been
transferred.”
    “ Yes, sir, I will just confirm.” The Egyptian pressed a button
on his phone and waited. After a moment he spoke a few sentences in
Arabic before switching to English. “Asif, I am so distressed to
disturb you on this special day but can you confirm that the funds
are cleared to my account as agreed?” He listened to the reply for
a moment and then bade his bank manager farewell in
Arabic.
    “ My bank manager is sitting at home with his laptop and has
confirmed payment, so we may now proceed.”
    Abasi Noor opened a secret