The Kill Artist

The Kill Artist by Daniel Silva

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Authors: Daniel Silva
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said. "I'm afraid that's all I can say."
    "Come on, Ari. You can do better than that. Give me something I can hang my hat on."
    "I need it to catch the terrorists who did it."
    "Now that's more like it. How much this time?"
    "Half million."
    "What flavor?"
    "Dollars."
    "Down payment or payment in full?"
    "Actually, I may need a line of credit, depending on how long the search for these boys lasts."
    "I think I can manage that. How would you like it delivered?"
    "There's a small shipping company based in Nassau called Carlton Limited. Its largest container vessel is in dry dock undergoing repairs. Unfortunately, the repairs are taking longer and costing much more than the owners of Carlton Limited projected. They need an infusion of cash quickly, or the ship may go down and take Carlton with it."
    "I see."
    Shamron rattled off the number of an account in the Bahamas, which Stone jotted down on a notepad with a gold pen.
    "I can have a half million in the account by morning."
    "Thank you."
    "What else?"
    "I need you to make another investment."
    "Another shipping company?"
    "Actually, in an art dealership here in London."
    "Art! No, thank you, Ari."
    "I'm asking you as a favor."
    Stone let out a long sigh. Shamron could smell the caviar and champagne on his breath. "I'm listening."
    "I need you to make a bridge loan to a firm called Isherwood Fine Arts."
    "Isherwood!"
    Shamron nodded.
    "Julian Isherwood? Julie Isherwood? I have made my share of questionable investments, Ari, but lending money to Julie Isherwood is tantamount to setting it on fire. Won't do it. Sorry, can't help."
    "I'm asking you as a personal favor."
    "And I'm telling you that I won't do it. Julie can sink or swim on his own." Stone made another of his sudden course changes. "I didn't know Julie was part of the brotherhood."
    "I didn't say that he was."
    "Doesn't matter, because I'm not going to give him any of my money. I've made my decision. End of discussion."
    "That's disappointing."
    "Don't threaten me, Ari Shamron. How dare you, after everything I've done for you? The Office wouldn't have a pot to piss in if it weren't for me. I've lost track of how many millions I've given you."
    "You've been very generous, Benjamin."
    "Generous! Christ! I've single-handedly kept you afloat. But in case you haven't noticed, things aren't going well at Looking Glass these days. I have creditors peering into every orifice. I have banks demanding their money before they'll give me any more. Looking Glass is shipping water, love. And if Looking Glass goes down, you lose your unlimited supply of money."
    "I'm aware of your current difficulties," Shamron said. "But I also know Looking Glass will emerge from this crisis stronger than ever."
    "Do you? Do you really? Shit! And what gives you that idea?"
    "My complete confidence in you."
    "Don't fox with me, Ari. I've given freely for many years and asked for nothing in return. But now I need your help. I need you to lean on your friends in the City to loosen the grip on their money. I need you to convince my Israeli investors that it might be best for all concerned if they forgive a substantial portion of my debt."
    "I'll see what I can do."
    "And there's one other thing. I print your black propaganda whenever you ask. Why don't you toss me a real story every once in a while? Something with a little sizzle. Something that will sell newspapers. Show the money boys that Looking Glass is still a force to be reckoned with."
    "I'll try to come up with something."
    "You will come up with something." Stone shoved another fistful of caviar into his mouth. "Together we can move mountains, Ari. But if Looking Glass goes down, things could get quite nasty indeed."
    * * *
    The following morning Shamron and Gabriel met in Hampstead Heath. They walked along a footpath bordered by two rows of dripping beech trees. Shamron waited for a pair of joggers to pass before speaking. "You have your money-five hundred thousand American. Usual account in

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