Blood Money by Julian Page Page A

through the data and finding the necessary expert witnesses. We don’t have enough staff and we don’t have enough people with the specialist skills required to carry out many more cases. How are you going to recruit staff of sufficiently high calibre to take on the City?”
    â€œGood question. Firstly, everyone in enforcement is going to have to upskill and raise their game. The next 12 months is going to be a particularly tough period for us all, because we’re now going to be taking a very different approach to our work. It’s true we’re understaffed, but I’ll make you a personal promise -I will hire the criminal specialists we need, whatever it takes. We have to be able to fight the armies of top-flight lawyers that the industry can set against us. Together we’re going to make the FSA an effective force against corruption in the City.”
    With the ice broken, a second question soon follows. “Getting statements, witnesses, and corroborating evidence isn’t just about throwing more people at the problem. We need more powers to do our job effectively.”
    â€œYou’re right, we need some extra tools if we’re going to get more convictions, and you’ve already seen the start of this. We’ve got to be as tough as the US regulator. If we don’t, the government might shut us down and invent a different structure for regulatory control. You’re going to be doing far more telephone interviewing of suspects immediately after suspicious trading activity, offering more witness immunity, as well as taking part in a lot more dawn raids to arrest suspects and gather evidence. All of these things combined will begin to show the results that we need. Any further questions?”
    Only after prolonged silence does the Director decide to bring the session to a close.
    *
    Following the briefing, Rebecca’s boss, Tom Vaughan, sits down at his desk and whilst he glumly considers how Hillary’s new-found enthusiasm will adversely affect his workload he begins to open the post that’s just been delivered to his office. He’s got a face like a west-country farmer, which is something wholly alcohol related as he’s certainly not the rugged, outdoor type. He’s an introverted, mild mannered middle-aged office manager with an insecurity complex caused by his inability to get a much better paid job in the financial services sector. And with a nickname like ‘Tommy Chardonnay’ it’s clear he’s been as unsuccessful in hiding his long-standing drinking problem as he has been in finding employment in the ‘real world’.
    After glancing at a couple of letters, Vaughan opens-up a small jiffy bag and putting his hand inside he pulls out a small white note. Straight away he knows something’s not right, he can feel the weight still in the bag and he’s experienced something like this once before. Unfolding it, he reads the message, then frowns, feeling confused, ‘But how can they know?’
    There’s still something inside the jiffy bag that he holds in his unsteady hands. It’s quite small, but heavy. ‘Please don’t let it be…’ as he tips-up the bag, a single bullet drops out onto his sweating palm. His face visibly changes, his eyes widen and within an instant the rosy colour drains from his cheeks.
    With her usual poor timing, Rebecca picks this very moment to knock on the glass door to Tom Vaughan’s office. Startled, he stuffs the contents back into the jiffy bag and hides it away in his desk drawer.
    She observes her boss’s strange response whilst politely waiting outside to be acknowledged. He appears to be acting like a little boy who’s been caught doing something he shouldn’t. Still looking uncomfortable and sheepish, he at last beckons her inside.
    Seeing that his complexion is as white as a sheet, she begins by showing concern. “Are you ok Tom? You look like