Winterland (42 page)

‘I’ve just been to Baggot Street. They told me you’d be here.’

‘I see.’

He doesn’t like this.

‘So, er …’

The elderly man, who is standing to Gina’s right, clears his throat. She turns to look at him. He extends a hand in her direction.

‘Jimmy Vaughan,’ he says. ‘Enchanted, I’m sure.’

Gina shakes his hand.

‘Er …’ She’s distracted now, not certain that she’s heard this right. Did he just say
enchanted
? ‘… Gina Rafferty.’

His hand is soft, like silk.

‘Er … Gina here,’ Norton says, addressing the old man, ‘she’s the sister of our, er …’ – this is an awkward way of phrasing it, and he isn’t comfortable – ‘… er … she’s the sister of our chief structural engineer, Noel Rafferty –’

‘Oh?’

‘– who, who died unfortunately, a couple of weeks ago, in a car accident.’

‘Oh my goodness,’ Vaughan says, turning back to Gina. ‘That’s dreadful. I’m
very
sorry to hear that. You have my deepest sympathies.’

He’s American.

‘Thank you.’

‘Gina, may I ask how old your brother was?’

‘Yes. He was forty-eight.’

‘Oh,that’s just terrible.’ He shakes his head. ‘You know, I had a brother who died,
many
years ago now, in Korea actually, but it’s not something you ever really get over, is it, the death of a sibling? I mean in the sense that it affects your identity, it … it redefines you in a way.’ He reaches across and pats her gently on the arm. ‘I hope I haven’t spoken out of turn.’

‘No, not at all,’ Gina says. ‘That’s very perceptive actually.’

She feels slightly snookered here. Who is this old guy? He has a courtly and at the same time quite commanding presence. She needs to refocus.

‘Paddy?’

She turns back to Norton, but he’s looking off to his right. In the next moment, he is joined by someone else, a tall silver-haired man in a grey suit.

‘Paddy,’ this man says, taking Norton by the arm, ‘come here, I need to ask you something …’

‘Er …’ Norton turns back to Gina and Vaughan. ‘I’ll just … er –’

‘Go,’ the old man says, ‘go. Allow me to have the pleasure of this charming young lady’s company for a few minutes.’ He beams at her.

Moving off with the other man, Norton glances over his shoulder. Gina can see that he’s extremely agitated. She isn’t sure what to do and considers just going after him. But then it occurs to her that maybe the reason he’s so agitated – in part, at least – is because he’s had to leave her alone with this old guy.

Gina turns back to Vaughan, who is still beaming at her. ‘Hi,’ she says, and smiles.

‘Hi.’

‘So. Tell me. Who
are
you?’

‘Who am I? Oh
my
.’ He breathes in sharply, as though the challenge of answering such a question by close of business today might be beyond him. ‘Well, for starters, I suppose, I’m the chairman of a private-equity firm called the Oberon Capital Group.’

Oberon?

Gina’s heard of it – usually in lists, along with other names such as Carlyle, Halliburton, Bechtel, Chipco. She can see the old man trying to gauge how impressed she is.

‘
Wow
.’

‘Yes, I have many interests, many
lives
, you might say. I advise governments. I broker deals.’

She nods along silently.

‘In the early eighties,’ he goes on, gazing into her eyes, ‘I was Deputy Director of the CIA. Before that, among other things, I was Assistant Treasury Secretary under Jack Kennedy.’

‘Really?’

‘Oh yes.’

This is bizarre. He
is
trying to impress her. He must be nearly eighty – though he does have, she has to admit it, a certain charisma.

‘Interesting times
they
were, I can tell you.’

‘I’m sure.’

There are questions she could ask him about this, but now is hardly the time.

‘So what are you doing here?’ she says. ‘How do you know Paddy?’

‘Oh, well, yes.’ He pokes a finger in her direction, as though he knows she’ll find
this
interesting. ‘Richmond Plaza. I have a sizeable stake in it …’ – turns out he’s right – ‘… and I’m just here, basically, to have a look.’

‘I see.’

‘We’re heading down there now, actually.’

Gina glances over at Norton, who is standing about thirty feet away, still listening to the man in the grey suit but staring directly at her.

‘I’ve been up it,’ she says, turning back to Vaughan. ‘Only once. But it’s certainly impressive. I know my brother was very proud to have worked on it.’

As she says this her voice cracks a little – which may, at some level, be deliberate. Or not. She can’t really tell. She’s nervous, and confused, but also aware of a certain element of gameplay here.

‘Listen,’ Vaughan says, ‘I don’t know if you’re free, but … would you care to join us?’

She seems to consider this for a moment. But given the circumstances there’s nothing really to consider.

‘Yes, Mr Vaughan. I would. Thank you.’

‘
Mr?
Oh come now, Gina,’ the old man says, tilting his head in Norton’s direction. ‘If
he’s
Paddy then I’m Jimmy. I insist.’

‘OK. Jimmy.’

‘Wonderful.’ He smiles again. ‘So, let’s go. There’s a car waiting outside.’

He extends an arm, which Gina takes.

‘Now, young lady,’ he says, ‘you must tell me all about yourself.’

‘Oh sure. Well, where to begin? I ran the State Department under FDR …’

Vaughan laughs at this, and as they start to move towards the exit, Gina glances over at Norton.

‘What’s the matter, Paddy? You’re not listening to me.’

‘I am, Ray, but come
on
, let’s go.’

‘Yeah, yeah,’ Sullivan says. ‘In a minute. Now take it easy, will you?’

Norton watches as Vaughan whispers something to his minder and then disappears with Gina through the revolving doors.

The minder walks over, informs Sullivan that Mr Vaughan will meet them at Richmond Dock in twenty minutes.

‘OK, Phil,’ Sullivan says, ‘thanks.’

The minder turns and leaves.

‘Yeah, so, er … it’s two per cent, or two and a half, three tops, but the point is it’s doable.’

‘Whatever, Ray. Can we
go
now?’

‘Take it easy. We’re going.’

Outside, as they climb into the back of a silver Merc, Sullivan asks about the girl.

‘She’s just … the sister of a … a colleague,’ Norton says. He doesn’t want to get into it.

Though he is going to have to do something here.

Sullivan laughs, and Norton looks at him. ‘What?’

‘Jimmy. He’s fucking incorrigible. Chasing skirt at his age? He can’t resist a pretty face. The man’s had four wives, and who knows how many affairs.’

They’re on Nassau Street.

Norton stares out the window. The other car can’t be too far ahead.

What could they possibly be talking about?

As the Merc glides onto College Green, Norton begins to feel a thumping in his chest and stomach. He’s used to feelings of anxiety, but this is a level – almost of panic – that he’s unfamiliar with.

‘Look, Ray,’ he says, staring straight ahead, unsure what he’s about to say next – and surprised when he hears the words coming out of his mouth – ‘I think she might be dangerous.’

‘Oh, that’s the kind he likes. He comes over all old-school, but believe me, deep down he’s really –’

‘No, no, I mean
dangerous
, a threat, security-wise. I’m not sure that she’s quite … stable.’ Once he starts he can’t stop. ‘She has a history. She … she’s been sort of, well, more or less
stalking
me, and making claims, outrageous stuff.’

‘
What?
Jesus Christ,’ Sullivan says. He pulls out his mobile phone. ‘Is she a psycho? Who the fuck
is
she?’

Norton explains. He mentions about Noel, and adds that she’s possibly delusional, paranoid, deranged with grief. This is the best he can manage by way of a pre-emptive strike.

Sullivan has the phone up to his ear. ‘Phil? Yeah. Woman you’ve got there in the car with you? Keep an eye on her. When you arrive, don’t let them out of your sight. Stick close by the old man. We’ll be there a few minutes after you.’

He closes the phone.

‘Jesus,Paddy,’ he says. ‘If this bitch pulls anything, I swear I’ll …’ He sighs. ‘
Christ
. How did you let this happen?’

‘
You
took me aside,’ Norton says. ‘
You
distracted me. And anyway,
I’m
the one she has the problem with, and I don’t think …’

But Sullivan isn’t listening. ‘Hey, driver,’ he’s saying, ‘step on it there, would you?’

They turn onto Custom House Quay.

Norton wonders if this Phil in the car up ahead is armed.

‘… so we’re in this hotel suite, at the Plaza I think, and
I’m
left standing there waiting. Bobby’s in front of me, shirtsleeves rolled up, on the phone. He’s pacing back and forth. Behind him, at a table, five or six aides are sorting through campaign leaflets. One of them is working a telex machine. TV’s on in the corner.’

Gina nods along, finding this more than a little bizarre. In 1960, her parents had just moved to Dolanstown, part of the city’s new suburban frontier. Noel was still a baby, with no sisters. She herself – his fourth sister – wouldn’t be born for another fifteen years.

‘On the far side of the room,’ Vaughan continues, ‘there’s a closed door. It opens, just slightly, and
Jack appears
. He lingers in the doorway and straightens his tie. He looks as if he’s still talking to someone in the room he’s just come out of. Then Bobby goes over to him, holding the receiver to his chest, and as they’re speaking the door opens a little further, and who do I catch a glimpse of? Sitting at a vanity table? Looking into the mirror, applying lipstick?’ Vaughan laughs. ‘My goddamned
wife
is who.’

‘Wow.’

‘My
first
wife, that is,’ he says, shaking his head. ‘Though not for long, of course.’

Gina stares at Vaughan, intrigued, but also wondering if she’s going to get a word in edgeways, and what it will be if she does.

‘Anyway, the penny soon drops and all of a sudden Bobby starts waving his arms about. Then in seconds flat the door is slammed shut and I’m being scuttled out of the room.’ He laughs again. ‘Six months later I’m at the Treasury.’

‘Incredible.’

‘Yeah, I laugh about it now, but at the time …
boy
.’

Her opportunity comes a couple of moments later when the building looms into view.

‘So,’ she says, pointing ahead, ‘how big a stake?’

‘I’m sorry?’

‘You said you have a stake in Richmond Plaza. How big is it?’

Vaughan stiffens. She can see that he’s a little taken aback by the directness of this. He turns to look at her, and hesitates, holding her gaze, as though trying to calculate something.

Gina is nervous now, and acutely aware of the two men up front.

But it seems to be OK.

‘Fifteen per cent,’ Vaughan says eventually, still holding her gaze. ‘Of course, we have Amcan, too, as the anchor tenant.’

‘I see.’

‘It’s going to be their European headquarters.’ He pauses. ‘Ray Sullivan? Tall guy back at the hotel? He’s their CEO. Good man.’

‘I see,’ she says again, nodding her head.

‘And I don’t know if you know it,’ Vaughan continues, almost in a whisper now, as though telling her something intimate, ‘but we’re changing the name as well.’

‘Oh?’ she says, matching his whisper. ‘I didn’t know. What to?’

He whisks a hand through the air in front of her, conjures it up. ‘The Amcan Building.’

‘Of course,’ Gina says. ‘The Amcan Building, what else?’

She is suddenly irritated, and unable to hide it.

Vaughan stiffens again. ‘Well, it
was
a strategic decision –’

‘Oh, I’ve no doubt,’ she interrupts him. ‘None at all. But the thing is, Jimmy, what’s happening
now
? I mean,
you’re
here, and this Ray Sullivan is here.’

‘So?’

She shrugs. ‘The big guns are in town.’

It’s as if she’s thinking out loud.

‘Well, I don’t know about that, Gina. I wouldn’t exactly –’

‘And everyone’s on their best behaviour. Or supposed to be.’

Vaughan furrows his brow.
He’s
irritated now, too – she can see it. He’s confused by her tone, and at the same time put out that their flirty little exchange has gone flat.

She needs to be more careful.

What’s to stop Vaughan from having her thrown out of the car before they hook up again with Paddy Norton?

‘I’m just sorry,’ she then says, turning to him, ‘that my brother can’t be here.’

She feels her face going red.

‘Of course, of course.’

It’s funny, Gina thinks, how you can be lying to someone and telling them the truth at the same time.

The car pulls up at Richmond Plaza.

Before the second car – the silver Merc – has come to a complete stop alongside the kerb, Ray Sullivan is reaching over to get the door open.

He climbs out.

Norton waits. From where he is, he can see Gina Rafferty and Jimmy Vaughan standing in the middle of the concourse at the foot of the building. Phil is a few feet behind them. Vaughan is pointing upwards and Gina is nodding. They seem to be having a reasonable, normal sort of conversation. It’s just not obvious what they are saying exactly, what
she
is saying.

Norton slides across the seat to the open door of the car. He gets out. The driver closes the door behind him.

It’s cold today and quite breezy, but not unpleasantly so. As he stands on the pavement, Norton watches Ray Sullivan hurry over to join the little grouping in the middle of the concourse.

Waiting on the far side of it, at the entranceway to Richmond Plaza, there is a second little grouping – two men and a woman. This is the reception committee he has organised for the visit. It consists of the project manager, Norton’s own director of development and his senior operations manager. They are all wearing yellow hard hats and protective jackets. Over to the left, in front of the wooden hoarding, a few construction workers are standing around watching the scene unfold.