Stolen Lives (Blood Brothers Book 1) (37 page)

He’s stunned them. But from the looks the two princes exchange, they don’t seem completely overjoyed to hear the news, and I’m guessing they’re seeing implications of this information which, not knowing the background, I miss. I tilt my head to the side, asking Hunter a silent question. He sees, and shakes his head. Apparently I’m going to have to be patient and wait.

Questions go through my mind. Why did my father lie? If he’d found oil, why then did the report emerge as fake? It just doesn’t make sense.

Suddenly, Kadar spits out: “Ezirad.”

Hunter nods. “Exactly.”

“Tell us the rest.” Sitting upright, his face stern, his body completely still, Kadar looks every bit the future monarch that he will eventually become.

“I’ll let Foss explain.”

The diplomat in his cheap-looking suit leans forward, appearing uncomfortable.

“I know Amahand and Alair are both relatively wealthy, with riches founded on diamond mines which are now running out, but with sufficient reserves to last for the next few decades. Ezirad, on the other hand, is economically unsound. While Alair and Amahad are forward-looking, progressive and multicultural, Ezirad gets support from other states which are more fundamentalist, and which only recognise the Islamic faith.”

Jasim puts his hand up. “Old news; we don’t need a geography lesson.”

Foss nods. “Just putting it into context.” He coughs to clear his throat. “Amahad and Alair are battling a constant war against jihadists. While they don’t come from Ezirad, they are given safe passage through, and accommodation within that country until they can establish bases. It’s just a short hop over the border to make trouble for you.” He coughs again, and is passed a glass of water by Hunter. “The government of Ezirad not only turns a blind eye but is also known to be corrupt itself, mostly due to desperation for income. It has little concern as to the source. Now, unfortunately, the test drilling done by Benting came to the attention of the jihadists, and one man in particular. Amir al Farhi.”

Kadar’s eyes gleam. “The bastard who’s behind the latest global terrorist attacks?”

Again Foss dips his head in agreement. “Yes. He’s a wanted man worldwide. He’s rumoured to be the mastermind of the recent atrocities in Europe and the United States. He’s a powerful man who shouldn’t be underestimated. We believe he had links to bin Laden.”

“So he stopped us finding out about the oil reserves?” Jasim jumps to the obvious conclusion.

“It appears Amir al Farhi intercepted the report and blackmailed Benting into amending his findings. There would have been another survey done, showing oil in Ezirad only. I believe they’re holding back on releasing that so it’s not seen to be a coincidence.”

“What happened to Benting?” I have to butt in.

Foss looks at me sympathetically. “Once he’d submitted the report he was surplus to requirements. Amir al Farhi couldn’t risk the truth getting out. So Benting was disposed of. Permanently.”

Hunter squeezes my hand as I realise terrorists murdered my father. I feel a spark of compassion, but am no more upset than if it had happened to a perfect stranger.

I’m still trying to figure it all out when Hunter reaches into his briefcase again.

“Here are the reports and geological surveys. Oh, and pictures of our drilling. I promise you these are real, and not fake.” He waits momentarily before adding, speaking slowly so they cannot ignore the words. “If Cara Carson hadn’t had the presence of mind to send me Benting’s report because she found it suspicious, you would never have known. She knows my background is in geology. When I got the report, it seemed anomalous. It was a proper survey with a proper conclusion, and then someone tried to butcher it, but the person who amended it didn’t remove some critical information. It was enough to get the government involved and send me to the southern desert to test out my theories.”

“Surely the proper course of action would have been to come directly to us?” Kadar thumped the table in front of him and rose to his feet. “The emir will not be happy that foreigners have been interfering in what should have been our concerns. If anyone had commissioned another survey of the desert, it should have been the government of Amahad.”

Hunter stares him down; the fact that Kadar’s show of temper hasn’t shaken him at all lifts him up in my estimation. His voice is cold and his gaze unwavering as he answers the crown prince.

“If Benting had been alive, you would have executed him. As he was dead, you kidnapped a British citizen and forced her to marry your brother. The British government had reservations about working directly with you.”

Kadar returns Hunter’s intense glare with one of his own. After a strained pause, he breathes out and gives a brief but sharp nod, conceding the point.

Jasim cuts in. “I don’t understand about this report …”

Swinging to face him, Hunter explains. “Initially, Benting conducted the surveys and found oil samples. What the faker did was change the locations so that the test sites were set up in the wrong places, and the samples from those wells came up dry. It was a shoddy affair, and that’s what screamed out at Cara.”

“We should have looked into it more thoroughly.”

I see Jasim nodding thoughtfully.

“But we don’t have our own experts,” Kadar suggests.

“And the oilmen who worked on the original report were all killed in an explosion on their next project,” Hunter informs us, his expression fierce. “It wasn’t an accident.”

That makes me go cold.

“This is a serious business, Mr Wright,” Kadar acknowledges. “We need to pull together a team to look into this in more detail. If what you say is true...” He holds up his hand to forestall Hunter’s protest, “I’m not saying I disbelieve you, but we need to check it out. Just as we’ll need to look into the implications of everything you’ve told us, including our response to Ezirad.” He pauses, and looks directly at me. “Miss Carson, it appears we owe you our thanks for being on the ball and spotting the anomalies in the report.”

“I propose that her reward should be more than sufficient to enable her to pay off the contract,” Hunter interjects. “End this sham of a marriage and let her go home. You stand to make trillions from this oilfield.”

“I don’t want…” I tried to get out.

At the same moment Kadar states, “Nonetheless, Miss Carson is a thief!”

“No, I’m not!” My frustration makes me scream. “I’ve stolen nothing from you, and I can prove it. Just give me a chance to explain. But, please, I’d like Nijad to hear this too. Could you please ask him to come to the meeting?”

All this talk of voiding the contract makes me desperate to see Nijad. I want to make no decisions about leaving Amahad until I know whether, if I can clear my name, he can forgive me.

Jasim shifts awkwardly in his seat and looks at me apologetically.

“He left for the desert city last week. I’m sorry, Cara, but he was in one hell of a temper when he went, and I don’t think he’ll be coming back any time soon.”

Kadar looks at me thoughtfully. “You still protest your innocence? Even though we have evidence that makes it clear beyond doubt that you hacked into our systems and stole from us?”

Still reeling at Jasim’s news about Nijad, I close my eyes and try to pull myself together before I answer him. When I eventually nod, he continues.

“I don’t know how you can exonerate yourself, Miss Carson, but now’s the time to come clean. There is no doubt Amahad owes you a great debt, but I do not like the thought of a criminal going free. I don’t understand your motivation, how you can have helped us with one hand, and robbed us with the other. But I will afford you the courtesy of listening. We want to hear everything.”

I hesitate, but Kadar moves in his seat, showing his impatience. “Speak!”

Starting at the tone of command in his voice, I get a grip on myself. Here is my one and only opportunity to clear my name. I gesture to the water on the table, and Hunter fills a glass and passes it to me.

“OK.” I consider my words carefully. Luckily this room is set up for business meetings so has equipment available; at my request, the laptop and projector are set up for my use, causing only a few moments’ delay. After taking a deep breath, I begin.

“I’m a forensic accountant, so following money trails through financial systems is what I do. I can also hack into most systems, particularly when they’re not well secured.”

“So we’ve discovered,” Kadar says drily.

Jasim puts his hand on his brother’s arm. “Give her a moment.”

I throw him a grateful look. “I found the files about the supposed oil reserves in Amahad on the Benting International Systems. When you contacted me about working for you, the coincidence struck me, so perhaps I was more curious about Amahad than I should have been.”

I stop speaking as I log on to the laptop. I locate my account in the cloud and use a series of complicated passwords to work through different files and folders, then get to the one I need.

“When you gave me a contract you also unwittingly gave me complete access to your insecure finance systems. At the same time that I was completing the work, I admit, I had a nose around the Amahad finances. As Amahad was an absolute monarchy, the country is run like a giant company under the command of the CEO – in this case, the emir. Like any big organisation, a lot of money was invested and I was soon able to see that your fund manager wasn’t worth the salary he was taking home.”

“That was the work we asked you to do.”

I make a dismissive gesture. “I suspect it was a non-job you created, purely to give you the excuse to try to get me here. Not very creative, and I doubt you expected it would reveal much. And I also imagine you didn’t involve Basheer Mansur.”

Kadar looks surprised. He wasn’t aware I knew of Basheer, and he’s also probably wondering how I’d guessed the project had come directly from him, not through the regular channels. None of them knew that if Basheer had known of the proposal to look deeply into their accounts, he would have put a stop to it, to avoid the risk of exposure.

“You’re right.” Kadar nods in confirmation, gives Jasim a puzzled look, and indicates that I should continue.

I point to a screen where a spreadsheet is displayed, the columns showing monies paid in and paid out, and the interest earned.

“Your fund manager had got lazy. Some large amounts of money had remained in investments which hadn’t paid a dividend for years. See?” I move the mouse and highlight the pertinent parts. “This is a snapshot of your country’s investments three months ago.

Kadar’s eyes darken as he looks at the screen. From his expression, someone is going to pay for that.

“So I thought, if you weren’t making use of the money I’d move it around a little and put it in funds with a much better return,” I continue. “I admit it was a bit risky, but I did play some short-term but higher risk bets; funds which had a higher chance of failure in the long-term, but in the initial few months would be selling stock at high prices hand over fist. I do have my nose to the ground on these matters.” I call up another spreadsheet, the same columns but, this time, the interest figures are much higher. “After just a month, this was the position.” Again I highlight the right columns.

Jasim sits forwards. “That’s a one and a half million increase!” He sounds amazed. Kadar is nodding thoughtfully.

“Obviously, over the last month or so I haven’t been able to manage the funds, or check the investments,” I say, ruefully.

Kadar looks at me sharply, considering my words. “So that’s why Basheer, our minister of finance, thought you’d been stealing?”

I shake my head sadly. “I know who Basheer Mansur is.” I hesitate, my fingers drumming the desk as I delay giving the bad news for as long as I can. “He’s the man who’s been robbing you blind for over a decade.”

“Nonsense!” Kadar’s fist hits the table with a loud noise, enough to make me jump. “He’s not only an employee of the state, but he’s also a distant member of the royal family. He’s completely trustworthy!”

“I’m afraid not. And I can prove it.” I open up a screen that I know will look familiar to the two princes. It’s the one behind a very secure firewall which allows only a select few to manipulate monies in and out of state funds.

“How did you get into that?” Jasim sounds incredulous, and casts an anxious look at his brother.

“It was all too easy. I probably would have managed in any case, but someone else had already left a back door open. Basheer Mansur.”

“Go on,” he growls.

“First I found that significant amounts of money were being transferred out every month. And had been for at least the last ten years. You can see that, here,” I point to the number, “And this spreadsheet shows the amounts over the past year.” I’m showing them the bank statement for the royal accounts. I flick between the programs and show them a new screenshot.

“That’s a staggering amount!” Jasim exclaims.

Kadar wipes his hand over his eyes as if he can’t believe what he’s seeing.

“And to cut to the chase, here’s the relevant sections of a bank account owned by Basheer Mansur. That took some tracking down, but once I saw the money going out it wasn’t that difficult to trace where it was going to. So I thought that if I diverted the money back into the Amahad account, the person who had set up the theft in the first place wouldn’t make a fuss. If they raised the alarm, it would backfire on them. I used the money to add to the investments where they were performing well.”