IMPOSTOR IN CHIEF: Power at all Cost (HENRY CROWNE PAYING THE PRICE, a political and financial thriller series with an espionage twist. Book 5) by Freddie P Peters

Author:Freddie P Peters [Peters, Freddie P]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-01-29T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nineteen

Botha’s handshake was brief and noncommittal. Henry didn’t react to the clear show of disapproval. He settled on one of the sofas next to Upstage’s chair.

Upstage sat down again and turned towards Henry. “We were talking about what we hope to achieve in London.”

“I presume it is finance we are talking about,” Henry said.

The two Londoners nodded. Upstage copied them. “Of course, but not only that.”

Botha’s eyes flicked to Upstage. Anger flashed in them. He reached for his glass and returned to his circumspect attitude.

“Why don’t we talk finance first,” Henry suggested. “At least I know I can contribute meaningfully there.”

Upstage nodded, giving his consent for the other men to interrogate Henry.

The Londoners launched into a rant about taxes that were savaging the rich in Europe, including the UK.

“Taxed at 45%. This is an absolute disgrace… We are practically living in a socialist country,” Bound was whining.

They swiftly moved on to the cumbersome legislation and regulation requirements that made business impossible.

“Goddamn EU!” Ferguson was incensed. “Too many stupid rules that suffocate businesses. Brussels technocrats are fucking incompetent.”

Henry waited until the storm of outrage and righteousness had passed.

“Are you asking me how to arrange your business so that you avoid paying taxes?” Henry asked.

The Brits looked at each other. Could they be so blunt? Henry took their silence to mean a yes. He cast an eye at Botha. The man was clearly interested in the debate but Henry doubted it was the technicalities of tax avoidance he was most interested in. He suspected it was more to do with how far greed could drive people.

Henry waited for a verbal response; nothing else mattered. But to show too much eagerness would associate him with the two Brits. The divide was apparent in the small group – the leaders and the followers. Henry had never been a follower.

The two Brits were still hesitating. Henry looked around the room for something, and stood up when he spotted it. He grabbed the notepad, tore a piece of paper and wrote a few words on it. He handed it over to Ferguson, the closest of the pair to where he stood.

“Mossack Fonseca, lawyers in Panama. Speak to this man, mention my name.”

Henry returned to his seat, casting a sorry eye over his now empty champagne glass. “Any other questions about wealth preservation?”

Botha almost smiled.

Upstage looked around. Tatiana had disappeared. He picked up his mobile and speed dialled a number. “Drinks and food,” was all he said.

“Have you ever done business in South Africa?” Botha’s strong SAF accent kicked in, with the letter a sounding more like eh… South Efrica.

“No, I’m afraid. I deal more with Central and West African countries – precious metals, oil, some armament deals.” Henry’s voice was even. No boasting, just facts.

“Do you know Dom Carter? He’s very involved in the same sort of trahde, I believe.” Botha made eye contact. The coldness of his gaze struck Henry.

Henry’s mouth turned down. “I’m afraid I don’t know the man.”

“Perhaps he goes arouhnd by another name,” Botha insisted.

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