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

drawer in his desk by sliding back
an intricately carved panel. He reached in a brought out a velvet
pouch.
    “ As you requested, I have purchased only the very best round
diamonds from Antwerp. These are all classified as colourless
category D, or what we call best blue white. They are also
internally flawless, they are extraordinarily rare. They have been
cut for maximum brilliance, not for maximum carat size. But as you
will see they are all large diamonds. You may not know that a
diamond that is twice the size of another is usually almost three
times more expensive. Please, take a look.”
    Even under the harsh fluorescent lighting the diamonds looked
magnificent. Bob had acquired them to sell on, but he was
reconsidering now that he had been besotted by their
beauty.
    “ I have the invoice from Antwerp. Losi Van Serck cut these
diamonds personally as a favour to me and the certificate attached
to the invoice shows the quality, cut and carat.”
    Bob looked at the invoice made out to Mr Nour. The Egyptian
had paid two hundred and twenty five thousand pounds for the
jewels, making an easy mark up. Usually he would have to integrate
the diamonds into a unique designer gold necklace to achieve a mark
up like that. But Bob was happy. These diamonds could be
transported anywhere in the world and were ready to be
traded.
    A few minutes later Bob was walking along Greville Street in
the direction of the Farringdon Tube Station, sending the last text
on the “Josh Phone” before discarding it. After a short tube
journey to Kings Cross, where he removed the glasses, moustache,
hairpiece and garish City boy’s tie in the gentlemen’s toilets, Bob
hailed a taxi and headed back to his hotel for a celebratory
lunch.

Chapter 17
    City of London Police HQ, Wood St, London. Friday,
Noon.
    Dee was chatting and joking to try to distract me, but it
wasn’t working. It had been over half an hour since the money was
transmitted, and all we had seen or heard was Boniface taking an
urgent call. He had yelled “How did that happen?” and stormed out
of the office without another word.
    I had a horrible feeling that my money was gone forever. My
phone was still in the dock and it buzzed again. I read the message
aloud.
    “ Thanks Josh,
    That was easy. Perhaps I didn’t ask for enough. Next time I’ll
be more realistic. You’ll be hearing from me again.
    Bob”
    I put my head in my hands. Dee put her hand on my
back.
    “ He’s winding you up, Josh, now that he’s got what he wanted.
In any case, I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s apprehended over the
weekend. This is a murder investigation now.”
    What Dee said made sense, but I wasn’t convinced. I was still
pondering her remark when Boniface appeared, his face like thunder.
He spoke calmly despite his agitated appearance.
    “ Josh, first of all let me assure you that your money is safe.
We are tracking it, but we have a problem. The account we sent your
money to is held at the Sharia Islamic Bank of Arabia close to
Regents Park. Unfortunately we can’t raise them on the telephone to
find out the customer’s details because it’s Friday and the Bank is
closed for the Muslim weekend. It’s also Ramadan, and so getting
hold of people at home is going to be tricky, as the London Central
Mosque has a variety of activities going on today.”
    I wondered whether Bob had done this deliberately, or whether
he was just a lucky son of a bitch.
    The day meandered on at a snail’s pace. The police were as
frustrated as I was. Bob was still their best suspect for a double
murder, after all. Tracking my money seemed the best way to track
the man. The IT guys had pinged his mobile phone several times
without success. I had a sneaking feeling that we would find it in
the hands of a homeless man sometime next week.
    The good thing was that the money had not moved and so,
theoretically, I still had my quarter of a million pounds. It was
almost two o’clock when Inspector Boniface’s phone