BLOOD DRAGON by Freddie Peters (books to get back into reading .TXT) 📕

experience.” The car had started moving again, and they would soon arrive at Trafalgar Square. “Either he has some real dirt on those people, and could indulge in some good old-fashioned blackmail, or his business connections are second to none.”

“Or a bit of both …” Laurie was weighing up the idea. “But to be fair to the man, no matter how unpalatable it may seem, I would say the latter. He has some very high-profile connections in the tech world. He seems to know Bill Gates pretty well. Yes, connections in the small biotech industry as well as with the big pharmaceutical companies, and a whole host of smaller companies in Silicon Valley.”

“Whom does he know amongst the big pharma companies?”

“Pfizer, AstraZeneca … and he also has good connections with Johnson & Johnson.”

“Why isn’t he working for one of the big guys, if he has such good contacts?”

“That’s not the way he operates. He makes a lot of money by developing new drugs in small companies or start-ups, and then selling them on to the large pharma companies once he has a prototype that works.”

“How many times has he done that?” Jack had stopped worrying about the progress of his car, puzzled. The man he had seen in the picture attached to the file Laurie had sent did not look that old.

“Three times and that is pretty impressive at the age of 37.”

“So, Jared Turner is gifted when it comes to research and development in the biotech industry. … That doesn’t mean he’s not up to no good.”

“Agreed … he must be pretty ruthless to finance his companies through private equity and then sell to the big groups. He knows how to play the financial game, and he’s no pussycat.”

“I’ll bear that in mind. Anything else on his background?”

“Yep … his father worked on Wall Street until he retired a few years ago. He worked in asset management and in the same pharma sector. Now running a consultancy practice and sitting as non-exec director on the board of large companies in the NASDAQ.”

“Still involved in pharmaceuticals?”

“Good question … let me see.” Jack heard a few clicks of the mouse before Laurie returned. “A couple of pharmaceutical firms … one medium, one very large.”

“I’m not surprised Turner Junior can get a deal done, then.”

“I agree it helps to have dad sitting in the right boardrooms.”

“Can you email me the information?”

“Done,” Laurie interrupted.

The car had arrived at his hotel. Jack moved swiftly through the lobby and called the lift.

“Going to Hong Kong?” Laurie’s cheery voice became lower.

“BA flight tonight at 9pm from London Heathrow.”

“Is it not the flight …”

“… on which Ms Wu is flying?”

Chapter Twenty-Seven

She hesitated when Chuck, her limo driver, called to say he was waiting downstairs and would she like him to help with her luggage.

She slowed down when she presented her British passport at passport control, wondering whether she shouldn’t turn back.

Now that she was sitting in the first-class BA lounge courtesy of her gold executive card, she stood at the floor to ceiling window overlooking the runway. A couple of businessmen had vacated a cluster of seats that hugged a corner of the room and provided privacy.

Nancy was reluctant to hide in one of the business booths to make her call. She checked her watch, only 30 minutes to go before boarding for business class, and 45 minutes before departure. Charlie had been, as ever, efficient at driving her to the airport in record time.

She took a sip of the champagne an affable stewardess had deposited on the low table next to her seat. The bubbles did not produce the lift in mood they usually did. It was time to call Pole.

The mobile phone felt clammy in her hand. She had been holding it ever since she settled in the lounge 10 minutes earlier. Nancy took a slow intake of breath and pressed recall button number one. The phone rang a few times. She grew nervous as she had not anticipated leaving a message. Pole’s voice sounded pressed. “Could I call you back please … or, even better, shall we speak tonight over dinner?”

“Jonathan …” The tremor in her voice surprised her. “I’m at the airport. I’ll be boarding in 20 minutes.”

The silence at the end of the phone was deafening. She cursed herself for not giving him more notice, hearing his muffled voice giving instructions and sounds that indicated he was moving around.

“Are you flying to China?” his voice was hardly recognisable, blunt, unemotional.

“Hong Kong.”

“Why?”

“Philippe has already gone. I can’t just leave him there on his own.” She stopped herself. Whether Philippe was there or not would not make much difference. She would have gone anyway. “And because too many things have surfaced recently … concerning Ollie, my father …”

“Can’t you wait a day, so that we can at least discuss it?” Pole interrupted and she interrupted back.

“… and concerning you …” she grabbed the glass of champagne, almost spilling it and took a large gulp. “You’ve been so helpful …” She hoped she was choosing her words carefully enough. “Peut-être trop … I feel my absence may give you a break.”

Pole was now walking outside. She could hear traffic in the distance. “I’ll call you back from another number.”

The line went dead, but within seconds her mobile was ringing again.

“This line is secure … What do you mean? What are you saying?” Pole’s voice had an urgency she had only heard when he sensed danger. “Are you sure?”

“Certain … S’il-te-plaît … I know where you have been getting your information from and I suspect that is also the reason why Ferguson and Marsh are running this damn inquiry on the Phelps case.”

Torn between the desire not to lie to Nancy and the necessity to keep silent about his MI6 involvement, Pole remained silent.

“You can’t tell me, of course, but I have a feeling from my meeting with Marsh that some piece of information has perhaps moved a pointer in my direction …