The Assassin Read Online Free PDF Page B

little too big and round shoulders, so he didn’t cut quite the figure he was striving for. On the other hand, that was a heck of a nice suit. A nice watch, too—I got just a glimpse, but it looked like a platinum Rolex accented with diamonds.
    Last but not least, Winchester introduced the admiral to Isolde Petrou, the French widow who was running the biggest banking operation in Europe. She was in her early seventies, I think, dressed in the latest French fashion; even so, she looked as tough as shoe leather. She was wearing small diamond earrings and a little blue stone on a necklace that complemented her tailored knit dress. (I don’t mean to bore you, but being a former jewel thief, I notice these things.)
    Grafton asked them all to take a seat. He stood with his back to the white marble fireplace. “Tommy, check that we are indeed alone.”
    I checked the doors, even went upstairs to ensure no maids were listening just inside the doors to the balcony. I gave Grafton the Hi sign.
    “Mr. Winchester tells me you are friends of his,” Grafton began. “He also tells me you have agreed to allow my agency, the CIA, access to the records of your businesses for the purpose of finding money-laundering transactions that we can use to find terrorists. Except for Mr. Smith, of course, who doesn’t have a business. Is that correct?”
    They all murmured assent. Then Jerry Hay Smith said loudly, “He didn’t tell us you are CIA.”
    “An oversight on his part, no doubt,” Grafton said with a straight face, then motored on. “He also tells me you are each ready, willing and able to fund a small private army to hunt these terrorists, wherever on earth they may be… and kill them.”
    Silence followed that remark. He looked from face to face. As he did so he called the roll, beginning with Huntington Winchester.
    “Yes. I am on board,” Winchester said.
    Each of the others murmured assent.
    Satisfied, Grafton discussed the malignancy of the people who directed and funded terrorism. “Terrorism is cold-blooded murder of the innocent,” he said. He went on, not mincing words: “These people were dangerous, and they might come hunting those who were hunting them. Not to mention the fact that prominent, wealthy businessmen and women were prime kidnapping and terror targets in their own right.
    My attention wandered to Jerry Hay Smith. Big writer … it seemed like he should be taking notes. Maybe he was.
    I also watched Isolde Petrou while Grafton was talking, and wondered about her. Last year her daughter-in-law, Marisa, was up to her gorgeous eyeballs in Abu Qasim’s scheme to assassinate the leaders of the G-8 nations. Which side of the street was Isolde really on?
    Grafton also talked about security, the need to keep secret the fact that the records were being mined by restricting its circulation to those in their employ with a need to know—and those people were very few.
    “Who will you get to mine the records?” the Swiss banker asked.
    “I can find some competent tech-savvy people for the job. If I couldn’t, I’d be the wrong man for this job.”
    “How do you know they’ll keep the secrets?”
    “I only hire people I trust. You see, the world you are entering runs on trust, on faith in your fellow man. In the end, that is the only value that really counts.”
    “Of course, if terrorists who dealt with your institution are arrested or killed,” Jerry Hay Smith pointed out, half turning so he could see Gnadinger’s face, “they or their friends will know who they dealt with.”
    Isolde Petrou fixed a cold stare on the journalist. “If we are afraid to search for and apprehend these people, we are already defeated.”
    “Well put,” Winchester said, nodding.
    “Heck, every bank in this country has systems in place to identify money laundering,” Simon Cairnes said roughly. “It’s required by law. Our systems will just get improved. I don’t see what the big deal is. A bank is just a big