Free Due Diligence by Grant Sutherland Page A

building are meant to impress, and fifty years ago they probably did; but nowadays the marbled caverns seem an empty extravagance. The functionality of the Bundesbank offices, their German counterpart, could belong to another world: the real world, Daniel always said.
    Penfield comes round his desk to greet me, and notices me glancing about. ‘Redecoration,’ he says. ‘Three months’ worth of meetings. Drop your coat over there Raef.’
    I would ask why I’m here, but that’s not how things are done in this place. Instead I take a seat. Like me, Penfield is dressed casually. Without his suit and tie he seems strangely diminished, incongruous even, as he leans against his desk. The bright yellow Ralph Lauren jersey, I suspect, was chosen by his wife.
    ‘Ski tan?’ I venture.
    He tells me about his winter break in Canada; heli-skiing apparently, his latest big thing. Behind his smugness there is a boyish enthusiasm that redeems him. He’s reputed to have a fierce temper, but I've never seen it myself. We move on to City gossip: the Fed rate rise last week, who’s doing what to whom. And just when I’m wondering if the direct approach might have been better after all, he mentions that he’s spoken with Inspector Ryan.
    ‘Hasn’t made much headway, I understand.’
    I remark that the Inspector seems a capable man.
    Penfield never really knew Daniel, but he knows that Daniel and I were friends. He gives me a sympathetic look, but to his credit he spares me any hollow condolences. Instead he hands me a sheet of paper. ‘What do you make of this?’
    The sheet bears the Carlton Brothers letterhead; the family crest, a stag rampant on an azure shield, and the family motto, Loyal in Adversity. Beneath these, there’s a short note.
     
    Dear Sir,
    A fraudulent trading ring has been operating at Carlton Brothers plc over the past twelve months. Details of several transactions are enclosed for your perusal.
     
    No signature. I turn the page over, but the other side is blank. ‘Where’s the rest of it?’
    'That’s it. No enclosure.’
    I read the note again. ‘You’re not taking it seriously?’
    'Wouldn’t normally. These things come in from time to time. Cranks. Someone with a grudge.’ He goes to a cabinet in the corner. ‘Drink, Raef?’
    I turn my head. I ask what makes this note different.
    'Timing. We received it Friday.’ He leaves the obvious unspoken. Daniel died Thursday night.
    ‘Ryan never mentioned it,’ I say as Penfield returns from the cabinet with a glass of port.
    ‘Rather our fault, I’m afraid. The letter wasn’t opened till late Friday. It went to the Investigation Unit.’ The Bank department charged with investigating questionable activity at City-based banks. ‘The head of the Unit takes his work home. He found it this afternoon. Rang me straight away.’
    So now I fill in the blanks. Penfield asked to see the note himself, and after meeting with the Head of the Investigation Unit, and still not satisfied, he called me. Probably at home, before trying the office. And somewhere along the way he’s spoken to Ryan.
    I hand back the note. ‘You think this is tied up with Daniel?’
    ‘Odd coincidence, wouldn’t you agree? This isn’t Moscow, Raef. It’s not every day a senior banker's shot dead in the street.’
    ‘So do you want me to look into it?’
    ‘We were thinking in terms of our people.’
    ‘The Investigation Unit?’
    ‘We thought perhaps early this week.’
    ‘Roger.’ I look at him in disbelief. ‘It’s an unsigned note.’
    He tells me there are certain pressures. ‘I haven’t much choice, you understand.’
    But I'm too alarmed to understand anything just yet. Pressure? From Ryan?
    ‘Our Treasurer murdered one week, and the next week the Investigation Unit’s crawling all over us? Roger, you'll know all about pressure if the rumours start. Christ. How do you think this’ll look?’
    He studies the space above my shoulder. He knows exactly how it will