Deceit. [COMPLETED.]

Chapter 56

"A crack in the alliance."
[EARLIER]

'How dare you! This is not what we planned.' 

It had been risky coming here but what choice did she have?

'Oh on the contrary Jennifer my dear. This is exactly what we planned.'

The sun was shining again. Uri Takiyoma was glad. It made the views from his ninth storey hotel suite the more appealing. He poured two drinks from a cabinet. It was after just after ten, not too soon for champagne in his opinion.

He had been stood watching a double masted yacht arrive in the marina just off to his right. He had placed its value at over five million. Not the most expensive boat he could see but it was close and why people needed to put their wealth on show was always a puzzle to him. Wealth never guaranteed power. On the contrary displaying how much money you had had more to do with one's insecurities than anything else.

He sighed, one of despair at not just his fellow peers who seemed to have more money than sense but also from what would now be an interruption to the peace and solitude he had just been feeling as he gazed out of his hotel window.

'Mr Attwood,' he said picking up the glasses of champagne, 'needed a reason to hate your brother. Killing his friend gave him one.'

He turned slowly round. The young Miss Stamford was dressed elegantly in a light cream coloured dress pulled tightly around the waist with a thin red belt. He never doubted her beauty. That was unequivocal. What he had always doubted was her ability to remain rational and calm.

Power did not come from violence or force but from subtleties and variances. It required someone to think and move with light feet. It required someone to look at a problem objectively and without emotion something he again doubted his Miss Stamford was able to do.

He greeted her with a smile. He reached out and handed her a glass noticing as he did so how the bubbles in the liquid shone brightly in the morning sunlight though he had to concede that the light in Singapore was not nearly the same as that in Switzerland where there seemed to be a far greater degree of radiance.

'But he already hates him,' scowled Jenny bringing her glass close and tightening her grip around the thin delicate stem. 'I've seen to that.'

A Mr Haruki Nakamura sat slouched in the background on a white leather bound sofa. Wherever Uri went so did his friend.

Nakamura had not taken his eyes off Jenny since she had arrived. She despised him. No more than that. She was afraid of him. She could only imagine what his role had been in the killing of John. Short and stocky he was a man who never blinked, who was always watching you and he always left you with a feeling that he could snap your neck at a moment's notice.

Uri sighed again though it was deeper this time and more exaggerated.

'You may be good at your little mind games,' he said calmly. 'But if you are to carry out this little plan of yours then forgive me for saying it but he needs more than just words. He needs to feel hatred. He needs to have a personal involvement and I have given him one.'

Jenny's eyes were distracted by the sight of Nakamura. The fore fingers of both hands began to rotate around each of her thumbs.

'It was his friend,' she said, a lump sticking in her throat. 'You killed his friend.'

Uri followed her gaze with a noticeable hint of pleasure. He also noticed the quiver in her voice. Power, he mused, was far too illusive for his Miss Stamford. She may think she had it but it had always been an illusion.