The Yacht Party (Lara Stone)

‘You don’t know? Jonathon was a fixer, a fluffer. Okay, sure, he was a fund manager too, but Meyer’s gift was connecting people. You needed investment? He knew where to send you. Got a problem? Jon had a man who could fix it. Jon was smart. Brilliant, really. They came for the advice, not for the party.’

Lara watched Bain’s face as he spoke. She had no reason to believe he was lying. Yet.

Jago pushed himself up and held out a hand.

‘Talking of which, come on, let’s dance.’

Lara gave a nervous laugh.

‘Dance?’

‘Dance. It’s party time. Indulge your old Uncle Jago.’

Reluctantly, Lara allowed herself to be led to the small dancefloor at the far end of the bar. There was one other couple dancing cheek-to-cheek, but that didn’t seem to deter Jago. He threw out a hand and whirled Lara around. As he dropped her into a dip, Bain’s mouth came close to the side of Lara’s face.

‘Because I have morals,’ he said into her ear.

‘What?’

‘That’s why they threw me off the boat,’ he said with a smile. ‘I know, right? The irony.’

He was making a joke of it, but Bain wasn’t an idiot. He knew she was a journalist and he wanted this information to get out into the world. She took his hand and led him outside onto a terrace, away from the crowds, but with enough bass-thump to ensure they wouldn’t be overheard.

‘Who are they, Jago? You said “they” threw you off the yacht.’

‘Jon’s inner circle.’

‘Inner circle?’

Melissa had also mentioned them.

‘Jon had a circle of mates. They had an insiders-only syndicate, sunk their own personal cash into sure-fire growth investments.’

‘Why did they invite you, Jago?’

He shrugged. ‘Advisory capacity. I’d worked with Jon and a couple of his inner-circle guys before. They liked me. Or rather they liked what I could do for them.’

‘And what did they want you to do for them this time?’

‘They wanted me to “rehabilitate” one of their investments.’

Lara felt the hairs on her bare arms raise; she knew this was important.

‘Which investment?’

‘A cobalt mine in the Congo,’ said Bain, looking away, his bullishness having disappeared. ‘They bought it three or four years ago; it’s doubled in value since then. Apparently, cobalt’s important in electric cars, so suddenly everyone wants it.’

Lara didn’t know anything about cobalt, but she did know that mining in the DRC – Democratic Republic of Congo – was a political mess, with accusations of environmental violations and health hazards for the miners.

‘And you didn’t want to work with them on it because…?’

Bain pursed his lips.

‘A rare attack of conscience.’

Jago looked less sure of himself now, the cockiness gone. Lara didn’t want to lose him. She stepped closer.

‘Jago, let me help you. I can tell you think what they are doing is wrong.’