Free Cocaine by Jack Hillgate Page A

computers looked new, as did the desks. You could buy a lot for two thousand five hundred these days. ‘Fire away.’
    ‘It’s like this, see. I have a special arrangement with the Treasury.’
    ‘Really? How intriguing.’
    ‘It’s quite hush-hush, because it’s a tax loophole that applies only to expatriates, to non-residents like you and me, see?’
    ‘I understand. I won’t tell a soul.’
    ‘Good, because there’s only about a hundred of us worldwide.’
    ‘A hundred expats? I think there are – ‘
    ‘ – not a hundred expats, George, a hundred spaces .‘ He almost whispered the word.
    ‘Spaces?’
    ‘Spaces. In the program, George. The program I’m going to tell you about and get you enrolled in faster than you can say Swiss cheese.’
    I nodded, trying to look impressed. Jack Wiseman checked his watch and then the telephone rang. The young man picked it up.
    ‘It’s Moscow on the line, Mr Wiseman. They want to know if they should make a bid yet or hold on for a few more hours.’
    ‘Tell ‘em to wait.’ Jack chuckled and turned to me again, a Kit Kat in his hand. ‘Bloody Russians, eh? It’s one of my deals, mustn’t talk about it really, suffice it to say it’s a nine figure sum.’
    ‘And your role, Jack?’
    ‘Adviser. Retained adviser. You do know what two per cent of seven hundred million is, don’t you George?’
    ‘Fourteen million.’
    ‘Errr...yes...that’s right.’ Jack lay back smugly on the sofa and took a bite of his chocolate. ‘We’re very comfortable.’
    ‘Coffee, George?’ asked Jan Wiseman, creeping up on us silently.
    ‘I’d love some’, I answered, drawing my attaché case closer to me.
    ‘White? Sugar?’
    ‘Yes thanks.’
    She poured whilst I opened my case. I looked inside at the contents and pulled out a single sheet of paper on which I had set out a list of fictitious assets including shares worth about half a million and a property in Thailand worth the same again. I had also included my white Porsche, the lovely Portia, resting in her home fourteen floors beneath us.
    ‘That’s me’, I said. He studied it quickly.
    ‘You’re exposed’, he said almost immediately. ‘We must act soon, George.’
    ‘So tell me about this special deal with the Treasury, the one with the hundred expats and the spaces.’
    ‘Yes. Yes I think I better. Before it’s too late.’
    ‘ Too late?’
    ‘ That’s right, George’ he continued, ‘we’re in for a rocky ride. Market indications are troubling me.’
    ‘ Market’s up seventy points this morning, Jack.’
    ‘ Of course it is.’
    He nodded sagely, as if party to some financial secret, some market surprise that was eluding the likes of Warren Buffet, the world’s second richest man, and me. ‘That’s what I tell the hedge funds I work with. Set up structures, that kind of thing.’
    ‘ Structures? Which hedge funds, Jack?’
    ‘ Can’t say.’ He tapped his nose conspiratorially. ‘Bound by confidentiality.’
    ‘ So what do we do? How can you help me, Jack?’
    ‘ This strategy, see, this tax loophole, it’s very complex, very complex but very profitable because you can’t lose. Your capital, sonny-Jim, is safe as houses.’
    ‘ What do you want me to do with my capital?’
    ‘ Basically’, he said, waving his arms around, ‘I offer you my management skills. I pool your funds into a government-backed scheme that guarantees you forty per cent return for twenty percent invested, eighty per cent borrowed. Can’t lose, see?’
    ‘ So I have to borrow money?’
    ‘ Oh no, don’t worry. I take care of that side of it. I just need the capital and some papers signed and the tax credit normally comes in direct from the government in about three months.’
    In three months’ time Jack and Jan would be sunning themselves in another location.
    ‘ I should get my lawyers to look over this, I think. Do you have some literature I can give them?’
    ‘ People always ask me that.’
    'I bet they