Read Online The market maker by Michael Ridpath - Free Book Online Page A

that faced the famous beach of the same name. It was a squat white building, whose elegantly etched art deco features recalled its heyday as the leading hotel for the rich and beautiful of the 1930s. Here, I had read, Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers had danced, and Noel Coward and Eva Peron had gambled. As our taxi rolled to a halt, a man in a crisp white uniform opened the door, and another whisked away our bags. We checked in, and were led through a courtyard past a swimming pool shimmering coolly blue against the white glare of the hotel walls. A solitary swimmer cut through its lightly rippling surface as she forged up and down. Two couples, one a pair of bankers and one a pair of middle-aged tourists, drank coffee in the shade of a large, broad-leafed tree. Quite simply, I was overawed. Fd traveled before, to India, Thailand, Morocco, but I had never stayed in anywhere that cost more than twenty pounds a night. The Copacabana Palace cost significantly more than that. Isabel, of course, knew the hotel well, and took it aU in her stride.
    I went up to my room, took a cold beer out of the minibar, and walked out onto the balcony. Below me was the pool and beyond that, outside the calm confines of the hotel, past the constant stream of traffic on the Avenida Atlantica, was the bustle of Copacabana beach itself. At its near edge, walkers strode purposefully up and down, occasionally pausing to perform a ritual twisting and stretching of limbs. The beach itself was dotted with brown and black bodies. This was a beach where people did things: played volleyball or

    soccer, sold ice creams or funny hats, milled about, or sat and watched everyone else. Then, beyond all \ this, there was the sea, swelling gently until a few feet from the shore, when it suddenly erupted into white \ fluffy waves, which broke tidily and prettily onto the \ pale sand. \
    I shed my jacket and tie, took a sip of the cold beer, i closed my eyes, and turned toward the soft heat of the late-afternoon sun. The complementary roar of traffic and waves lulled me. For the first time that week, I be- ! gan to relax. •
    The turmoil of the last few days began to sort itself out in my brain. The first week at Dekker and my attempts to i absorb all the new information thrown at me; the com- i plexities of the favela deal; Martin Beldecos's fax. i
    I still didn't know what to do about that. I wished Td i had a chance to discuss it with Jamie before I'd left. It ! seemed very likely that money was being laundered at Dekker Trust. Whether Ricardo and Eduardo knew that, I had no idea. But I also had no idea what it had I got to do with me. My instincts were to try to find out ; more, quietly. A first step would be Donald Winters's ' contact at the DEA. But that would have to wait until I returned. There was a knock at the door. It was Isabel. <
    "Come in," I said. "Do you want a beer?" She shook her head. I headed back out to the balcony, \ and she followed me. i
    "This is amazing," I said. j
    "Rio is beautiful," she said matter-of-factly. "And if | you work for Dekker, you tend to end up in the nicest : hotel rooms." i
    She was wearing a simple black surmner dress. As ! she leaned back against the railing of my balcony, my j throat went dry. I took another swig of beer. I

    "I tried to get hold of Jack Langton, my contact at the WDF, but no luck/' she said. "I've left a message for him to call me tomorrow at the Ministry of Finance."
    "OK."
    "Tm going to dinner with some old friends tonight. Will you be all right here by yourself?"
    "ITlbefine."
    "If you do go out, don't carry much money with you, and if anyone asks you for it, just give it to them."
    "Yes, mum."
    She smiled and blushed. "I'm sorry, but this town can be dangerous for strangers."
    "That's OK. Don't worry, I'U be careful."
    She moved to leave and then hesitated. "I'm having lunch with my father on Saturday. Would you like to come? He's always enjoyed reading Russian novels. I think he'd like to meet