Crash Course by Derek Fee (freenovel24 .TXT) 📗

“Maybe it should be,” de Vries warmed to his explanation. “Credit companies need to know about their clients, so a lot of financial information is freely available. All the people on your list are in the public eye so they’ve been written about in newspapers and business journals. That makes finding information on them relatively easy. We’re linked into every personnel database on earth. Within a few days of launching this operation, we had a full dossier on every powerboat driver collated from all those databases. From then on it was only a question of pruning and sifting. The results are in the files we have prepared for you.” De Vries tapped his finger on the bound volume in front of him. He turned to Bell. “We have developed personal and financial details on everyone you named.”

“That’s amazing,” Bell said more to himself than to the others.

“It is our strength and our weakness,” de Vries said. “As you may know since the days of the Gestapo, our German colleagues have been paranoid about the collection of personal data by police organisations. They have a rather pathological fear of the information falling into the wrong hands. We have had more than a little difficulty having our charter ratified because of this point.”

“It’s nice to know that the European Union works,” Kane said before draining his coffee.

“And have you come up with anything?” Bell asked.

“The short answer is no,” de Vries said. “All of these people are what our British colleagues would call ‘pukka’. For a start, everybody is who they say they are. Except for Mr Jackson but we will get to that point later. From what we have established there is no obvious criminal. Some of them have questionable backgrounds in either their private or business affairs but plenty of honest men have cheated on their wives and,” de Vries stole a glance at Bell. “Most businessmen are prone to utilise sharp practices. We are dealing with some seriously rich people here who did not get that way by playing by the Marquis of Queensberry’s rules. I am digressing. Let us start at the beginning.” De Vries picked up a remote and pushed a button. A head and shoulder picture of a dark-haired man appeared on the white screen behind him.

“The man you are looking at is Harry Hakonen,” de Vries began. “Hakonen’s company is responsible for over fifty per cent of the Finnish shipbuilding industry. He also owns two paper mills. The records show that he made lots of money during the first decade of the Millennium but since then there has been a turndown in his business. There are rumours in the press that Hakonen is under pressure from some of his bankers and investors. He is not quite on Skid Row but his financial position has been better.” De Vries pressed the remote and a second and younger face appeared on the screen. “This is Angelo Tardelli. Playboy supreme. Tardelli inherited €50 million from his father. Most of it has been invested and Tardelli prefers to live off the interest. He is a bone fide member of the international jet set. We can find no record of his ever being employed.” De Vries’ nose crinkled as he spoke. The thought that somebody should fritter away their time was anathema to a Dutchman. “He does not appear to think about work. That’s for the plebs. Tardelli is into every thrill that money can buy. Powerboat racing is only one of the ways he gets his kicks. The dossier we have compiled on him could form the basis for a shopping-and-sex novel. We have found some evidence of drug abuse but only on a personal level. There is nothing linking Tardelli with trafficking in drugs.”

De Vries flicked the remote again and the image of a dark-skinned moustachioed face appeared on the screen. “Constantinos Karakatis. Scion of a Greek shipping family. He likes to buy things. Shipyards, islands, hotels, people. You name it, he has tried to buy it. He appears to use the powerboat scene to promote his shipping and boatbuilding ventures. Financial records indicate that he is a multi-millionaire with heavy on the multi. Karakatis caused us the most problems when we tried to examine his business affairs. He is a very secretive individual. That does not necessarily indicate that he is dishonest. It simply means that he does not like people prying into his affairs. I should say at this point that we have simply collected and collated information. For your files, we have tried to summarise a vast amount of information. The men who have the means to indulge themselves by racing powerboats are a rather interesting cross-section of the business community. They work hard and play hard. It is not the function of Europol to come to any conclusions as to their guilt or innocence. We are simply providing information.”

Kane flicked rapidly through his dossier.

“Perhaps I can help you, DS Kane?” de Vries asked.

“I’m searching for the disclaimer,” Kane said. “I’d hate to see you people with your asses hung out because we’re trying to nail some major drug-traffickers, murderers or God knows what.”

De Vries ignored the remark and pushed the button on the remote again. An extremely handsome face filled the screen at the end of the room. “This is perhaps the most well-known individual on the powerboat circuit.” He looked from Watson to Bell and on to Kane. None of the men reacted. De Vries brow furled. “None of you recognises Doug Jackson.” His tone was one of astonishment. “He is,” he searched for the words. “A superstar of screen and TV.” Still no hint of recognition from Bell, Watson or Kane. De Vries sighed and put on his professional face “Born Southend, England as Wilfred Micklejohn. I suppose they don’t give out prizes for guessing why he calls himself Doug Jackson. He has had a routine acting career. Lots of