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‘Why are you here, Lara?’ he said.
‘I’ve come because Simon Meyer asked me to come.’
It wasn’t strictly true, but Tom didn’t need to know that.
‘Are you police?’
‘No. I’m a journalist.’
He gestured towards the stairs.
‘I think it’s time for you to leave.’
Lara stood her ground.
‘Simon wanted me to come because he thinks Jonathon might have been murdered.’
That got his attention.
‘Murdered?’ Despite the tan, Tom had visibly paled.
‘Please Tom, Just let me into his office. Answer a few questions.’
Tom gave a firm shake of the head.
‘I was recruited through a company that has a reputation for absolutely discretion and loyalty. Just because Jonathon’s dead doesn’t mean I can betray that confidence.’
She knew he was thinking about his own position. His next first officer’s job or captaincy. She didn’t blame him but she knew she had to push back. There was more at stake here than Tom’s career.
‘Are you saying there are things that happened on Pandora that would require you to be discreet and loyal?’
‘I’m saying that rich, powerful people pay a premium for their privacy. I’m their employee. I have to honour that.’
‘What happens on the yacht, stays on the yacht, right? Even if it’s illegal?’
He flashed a look of anger.
‘Illegal? No. These were networking parties. Rich men drinking champagne and doing deals. That’s all.’
Lara hadn’t expected Tom to give her chapter and verse – he had far too much to lose and very little to gain – but she still needed to find a way through his armour.
‘But if these yacht parties were just like a golf club social, why they were so popular?’
‘They were the best,’ said Tom matter-of-factly. ‘That’s why people came. There are bigger yachts in this part of the world, but the Pandora had the best of everything. The best wine, the best food, he’d get DJs in from Ibiza and girls from central casting. Jonathon knew what made people tick – put a smile on their faces and then they’d do the deal. Which is what this is all about in the end.’
‘What about drugs?’
Sandrine had connected Meyer with trafficking. Her friend hadn’t been specific about what sort of trafficking but Lara knew what went on in this part of the world. How boats took illegal cargo from the North African and Turkish coastline – drugs that had travelled through the Asian and African trafficking routes to Mediterranean ports for onwards smuggling into Europe. Meyer’s parties must have cost him a fortune; perhaps he had worked out a way to pay for them.
‘Drugs?’ Tom shook his head with irritation. ‘I never saw them and I had no part in providing them, if that’s what you’re suggesting.’
‘You didn’t see anything?’
He snorted, his face stony.
‘I’m paid to not see things.’
Lara could see that Tom wasn’t going to give her anything else. She had let Sandrine down.
