“Sorry, I don’t remember him.”
“What were you doing there?” Mike persisted.
“Is it relevant? I was exploring business opportunities – that’s my job.”
“Charles, I know what you think your job is. I’m trying to do my job, which means asking if it’s relevant because this Walter Flushing rang you up a couple of hours or so before he was shot to warn you that your life is in danger.”
“OK, I was talking to people there about a new pipeline in which I’m investing.”
“Where will it go?”
“The project is called PEGASUS. It’s planned to go to mainland France via Corsica from Algeria.”
“Bypassing the pipeline that crosses from Morocco to Spain?”
“That one’s been shut down by the Algerians for a year, and anyway, there are already other pipelines direct to Almería and across to Italy via Sicily.”
Mike smiled to herself on hearing Charles use the word ‘anyway’, which was his daughter Angelica’s favourite word – or possibly her second favourite word after ‘like’.
“The Moroccans and, probably, the Spanish aren’t thrilled about your new pipeline, I’m guessing?” She muted the TV, turned and stared at him. “Could this be a reason for someone to shoot you?”
“I, well … I …” He hesitated. “It could be … but no more than other things I’m involved in around the world.”
She then made a connection in her mind. “You said that you knew this Johnny Musselwhite. Was he involved in this pipeline?”
“Well, we had discussed it.” He was leaving things a bit vague.
“Charles?” Her voice had the tone of an exasperated parent.
“He wasn’t directly involved. Anyway, it’s none of the UK’s business if Algeria exports its natural resources to Europe by one, two, three or four pipelines. He was, however, interested in the security of gas supplies to continental Europe. The UK wants Europe to have secure gas supplies.”
“For selfish reasons?”
“Yes; if Europe has Algerian gas, it isn’t competing against the UK on the world market.”
“Charles, from what I’ve heard, Johnny Musselwhite would make Nixon look like a reliable witness … and from what I’ve read, he spent more money on cocaine than Oliver North sent to the Contras.”
“That may be true, but he was a good minister.”
“Is there anything else I need to know about pipelines that might be relevant?”
“There’s another one called GALSI that aims to go to Italy via Sardinia.”
“Are all these pipelines needed? Are you all in competition?”
“Well…” He began to look sheepish again. “A bit, but PEGASUS is different in that it also has two power cables linked to it, delivering electricity to France from a massive solar farm in the desert. And I mean massive: 12 million solar panels covering an area of 600 square miles.”
“What?” Mike needed to pinch herself. What was a girl from Portland, Oregon, doing on a private jet discussing solar farms in Algeria with a billionaire oil-and-gas magnate? She didn’t even know what ‘magnate’ meant.
“It’s no different from the XLINKS proposal from Morocco to Devon – that would use cables 2,400 miles long.”
“Huh?” This time she didn’t even manage a “What?”
“These are big projects.”
“I noticed. How much would they cost?”
“PEGASUS will cost £12 billion or thereabouts.”
Mike thought these figures were probably enough to explain why someone might want Charles dead. She had entered another world. One as far removed from her own as it was possible to imagine.
There was a pause while she weighed his answers. She changed tack. “Have you sorted out any personal protection?”
“As a matter of fact, I have. You’ll meet him at the villa. He was recommended by a friend.”
“A bit like me?”
“No, he’s much bigger.” Charles smiled.
“I meant that he was recommended by a friend like I am.”
“How true.”
Charles returned to his seat to take a phone call. As if prompted by this, Sylvia wandered over to ask Mike if she wanted access to the Wi-Fi. A few minutes later, she was on the phone to Leonard.
He picked up immediately. “Hi …” There was a pause. “Either you’ve got a grant to do up your cabin or you’re on board a Gulfstream … I recognise the windows.”
“I forgot how you CIA directors travel.”
