s the Falcon banked for its approach the peaks of the snow-capped
Pyrenees that separated France from Spain could be clearly seen to the left,
beyond which was a crisis that many feared was contagious. The sky was
blue and weather pleasantly warm when they disembarked at Biarritz-Parme
Airport. Kennedy ushered them through VIP arrivals in the direction of a large
black chauffeur driven Mercedes waiting to take them to the Palace Hotel.
Barton nodded towards the large panel that announced the services of a real-estate
company in French, English and Russian.
‘I see your friends are welcome here.’
‘Biarritz is very popular with Russians.’
‘Wealthy Russians.’
‘Yes, rich Russians, not your package tours. They’ve bought a lot of property
here. Villas and the like. Put a lot of money into renovating them.’
‘You’ve been coming here for quite some time now?’
‘Six or seven years.’
‘Where’s your young trader?’ asked Kennedy glancing around.
‘Liam? Oh he’s taking care of the bags. He’ll follow us in a taxi when everything
is offloaded.’
Kennedy had taken a liking to Clancy, who in a certain manner of speaking had
become his protégé cum gofer, something that did not worry Liam in the least.
Tagging along with Kennedy was a rare privilege.
‘Sergei has set up everything with Babkin.’
‘Yes, everything is fine, with no small thanks to Clancy.’
‘Oh. What happened to that Jameson fellow by the way?’
‘A little bit murky. You know, poor boy makes good and finds himself up to the
neck in shit. His friend Halfon’s making it seems.’
‘It was here that fellow was killed.’
‘That’s right, nasty business.’
‘Yes, with our friend Hiltermann.’
A
‘It seems like Jameson turned up in the Caribbean.’
‘That’s right. Last heard of in Surinam.’
Kennedy laughed.
‘Paramaribo I heard, the ‘beating heart of the Amazon,’ nothing but endless
jungles, home to the descendants of escaped African slaves.’
‘Well I suppose he’s doing the African Queen bit with the Jai Alai.’
They both doubled up laughing.