St Kilda Consulting 02 - Innocent as Sin

“You know I didn’t.”
    “You told me I would have ready access to that account at any moment. Then you told me weekends weren’t included. Then you tell me that the account has a password, and you don’t know that password. Now tell me why I shouldn’t kill you.”
    “I was wrong about the capability of the remote access system,” Foley said quickly. “But I’ll take care of it as soon as I getthe password from Kayla. The CHIPS transfers to Romania and the Czech Republic will clear immediately. The Russian transfer will take longer. That’s just the nature of using SWIFT wires—”
    “Your banker’s codes and acronyms don’t impress me,” Bertone cut in. “Do you believe what Kayla told you?”
    “Uh, yeah. Sure. She’s not all that smart. You heard her try to put the arm on me for more money. She believes she’s getting what she wants, so why should she lie to me?”
    “Her new boyfriend. Did he have words with a tall man who was with a teenage boy?”
    Foley blinked. “Yeah, how did you know?”
    “The man is Joe Faroe, probably an agent for St. Kilda Consulting.”
    “Never heard of them.”
    “You’ve never heard of a lot of things that can kill you.”
    Foley shifted uncomfortably. “So where does Gabriel come into this? I thought he was supposed to take care of Kayla when she left the restaurant.”
    “The police arrested Gabriel and the Ukrainian before they could get Kayla.”
    “What?” Foley leaned against the dashboard with one hand like he was dizzy. “How?”
    “How doesn’t matter. In the end, the police and St. Kilda did you a favor.”
    Foley looked blank.
    “If she had died without giving up the password, I would have taken great pleasure in killing you myself,” Bertone said matter-of-factly.
    “You’ve lost me, Andre. You’re leaping all over the place.”
    “A retarded child could lose you. Obviously St. Kilda has a wire into the bank. Is it you?”
    “What are you talking about?”
    Bertone said something in Russian, then switched back to English. “You’re too shallow, so I must assume it is Kayla who talks to St. Kilda.”
    Shaking his head again, Foley rubbed his hands against the black jeans. He wasn’t liking anything he was hearing. None of it made sense.
    “Look, I don’t know about this St. Kilda, so how did Kayla?” he asked. “I mean, I suppose she could be some kind of undercover, but it doesn’t make sense. Hell, nothing does. This isn’t my world anymore.”
    “It is now.”
    Foley frowned and rubbed his palms rhythmically across his jeans. “You sure the tall guy wasn’t a fed? That’d make sense.”
    “If federal agents have anything going, I will know it as soon as they do,” Bertone said. He lit a cigar. “St. Kilda Consulting is private.”
    “Private? Like private eyes? You’ve got to be kidding.”
    “Unfortunately, I am not.” He drew hard and exhaled the same way, filling the car with rich smoke.
    Foley hit the window button. Nothing happened. He looked at the key, but didn’t have enough nerve to reach into Bertone’s space to turn on the windows.
    “St. Kilda Consulting is very sophisticated and well financed.” Bertone blew more smoke and watched Foley squirm. “They have been retained by an African government that is close to being replaced by a rebel insurgency based in a neighboring country.”
    “Who cares?” Foley muttered. “It’s Africa, for chrissake.”
    “Precisely. Such things happen all the time in that part of the world. Unhappily, this potential target for regime change retained a private military and security company to press its interests on the worldwide stage.”
    “Expensive.”
    “A lot cheaper than war, actually. Pity, that. In any case, St. Kilda’s efforts have been quite successful. They are the principal reason I felt compelled to enlist you and your bank in my operation.”
    “Christ,” Foley said, putting his face in his hands. “What have you dragged me into—some kind of international spook party? I want out. I want out now!”
    “There is nothing I would like better than to remove my money from your bank at the speed of light,” Bertone said.
    Foley looked relieved.
    Bertone kept talking. “Then I would be free to kill you.”
    Pallor swept over the banker’s skin.
    “Ah,” Bertone said. “I see I have your full attention. Finally. I have more than a hundred million of my own dollars invested in a game whose stakes you cannot imagine. I have enlisted the