The hunt for Jameson intensified after witnesses, a retired couple whose apartment overlooked the marina, told police they had seen Jameson arrive late on the Sunday evening at the Hendaye Marina, accompanied by a tall individual, later they said he left hurriedly and alone. Other witnesses reported seeing Jameson in Biarritz, driving his Mercedes away from the Hôtel du Palais early on the Sunday evening.
The partnership built-up between Jameson and Halfon had turned sour. The collapse of Martínez Construcciones delivered the first body blow to their business. Then property investments in the UK and Spain stalled as finance provided by Hiltermann’s end of the Irish Netherlands Banking Group dried up. The flamboyant lifestyle that had become the partners’ trademark: extravagant parties, private jets, helicopters, luxury cars and yachts, slowly faded.
Jameson could have charmed the birds from the trees. Instead he found it more profitably to charm money from the pockets of complacent bankers and investors. Halfon on the other hand had not fared so well, time and again losing money with his often ill-chosen get-rich-quick projects.
Cramer’s investigations did nothing more than confirm the two men were used to living in grand style, often arriving Biarritz with an entourage of foreign friends, no expenses spared, even more extravagant than the Russian nouveaux riche they kept company with. As for their link to Hiltermann, enquiries to Amsterdam and London confirmed the Dutchman had indeed been the head of the Nederlandsche Nassau Bank and its Nassau Investment Fund. More interestingly questions had been raised by the Dutch banking authorities concerning complaints from certain investors on Hiltermann’s relations with the failed Spanish property tycoon Fernando Martínez, and the information from London concerning the disappearance from the bank’s Amsterdam branch of an important quantity of negotiable bonds.
All across Spain the crisis was taking its toll. Almost three-quarters of British expatriates in the country were weighing up the idea of returning home; a tough choice for many. Those who depended on their British pensions were hit by the falling value of the pound, others were trapped by the precipitous decline in property prices, then came those who earned their living in Spain and who feared for their businesses and jobs.
About one million Britons lived in the country where they had dreamt of a new life in the sun. After years of prosperity, the dream had withered; few of them had imagined they would be caught up in the worst economic crisis in decades, away from home and in a country where unemployment was pushing twenty percent.
All across Europe the weak pound hit British expatriates hard as the crisis left no country untouched, but it was those who owned properties on the Costas that were hardest hit of all as prices dropped by as much as sixty five percent. For those forced to sell up, the loss would be painful. Others would wake-up to find themselves homeless and broke, forced to return home; their dreams shattered.
Many expatriates had left the UK in search of a better life, to escape the effects of the greatest transformation in society since WWI, neglected infrastructure and poor transport, with education and health services in a piteous shape. To many, who had quit the UK, the country they had known had changed beyond all recognition. Amongst them were those who had grown tired of seeing the rewards going to the bonus culture establishment and their cohorts…and there were those hit by endless influx of penniless immigrants and foreigners who had contributed nothing to building Britain.
Hundreds of thousands of well-heeled UK citizens headed for France and Spain, buying second or permanent homes. Savvy wheeler-dealers like Jameson had made a good living from selling property and services to expatriate Brits, but times had become harder for them as the crisis started to bite.
Owners of expatriate homes concentrated near the channel ports of Normandy and Brittany had never been of interest to Jameson who catered for those who were perhaps more sophisticated. Those who opted for integration into local communities rather than live in narrow expat world; those who chosen Aquitaine in the south-west, and more precisely in the Basque Country with the chic resorts of Biarritz and Saint Jean de Luz.
The good times were forgotten and when the Spanish police started poking their noses into the different developments promoted by Malaga Palms, Jameson had retreated to his home in Urrugne and his original business base in Biarritz, where together with his partner Patrick Halfon they set about trying to save what they could in the growing exodus.
They had never catered for the fish-and-chip or curry crowd, most of their clients were better-off upper middle class, others were wealthy, and a few spoke good French. For some the move was permanent, others kept homes in the UK, but in general newcomers sought apartments or houses in and around Biarritz and occasionally larger properties a little further inland.
During the boom years Jameson had met a great variety of home seekers, including those who had made good in business, well-off retirees, artists, writers, English teachers, skilled artisans, swindlers and criminals, and even those who hoped to make a living from their compatriots. Amongst their predilected prey were those who had taken out SIPPs, personal pension plans, which allowed Britons to cash in their pension to invest in schemes such as property abroad.
There were even a few expats who continued to work in the City, using regular Ryanair services to commute to and from London. As for our two partners they had gotten used to travelling to London or Marbella, but not with the unwashed rabble, preferring to use a private jet and often bringing their friends with them.
Far from Biarritz, in the south of Spain, Liam Clancy had seen his efforts rewarded as slowly but surely he started to make a living by advising a growing number of expats on how to protect their incomes and savings, avoiding unpleasant surprises, avoiding unnecessary transfers of earnings and savings in an unstable currency market, where banks rather than advise clients acted like sharks, ensnaring their unsuspecting clients.
When the offer of a job in the City came from INI, he was at first inclined to turn it down. He had already been thrown to the sharks when Fitzwilliams’ bank found itself in difficulties, but after reflection it was difficult for him to resist the idea of working in the City, the mythical heart of banking, where he could heal his wounded pride.
After talking it over with his partners, Dolores Laborda Carvallo and Hugh Murray, they agreed if an offer was serious he should accept it, but at the same time he could continue to help them develop their business in Spain. He had nothing to lose, if the job in London did not work out he would always have the business in Spain to fall back on, and if it worked out with the bank it would be a great reference for their business.
In any case the pull of London was too strong, it was not as if it was Dublin, of which the Irish novelist Roddy Doyle said: ‘It’s a big con job. We have sold the myth of Dublin as a sexy place incredibly well; because it’s a dreary little dump most of the time.’
With the different bits of the puzzle pieced together Cramer learnt that Loiola had business in plans in Senegal with Halfon. The two men had met with Judge and Hiltermann at the Hôtel du Palais, where the Dutch banker was believed to have handed over a large sum of money. Hiltermann then left with Loiola. What happened afterwards was unclear, but according to witnesses at the hotel an argument had followed and a bang was heard. That explained the death of Judge. Towards mid-night, Halfon was then seen hurriedly leaving the hotel, and according to Cramer’s theory, he joined Jameson on the Jai Alai, where Hiltermann, Loiola together with two unidentified individuals.
Perhaps the bone of contention was the ownership of Fernando Martínez’s luxurious motor yacht, which had come into Jameson possession in confused circumstances shortly before the Martínez bankruptcy. The deal for whatever it was worth had caused considerable jealousy between Jameson and his partner, with Halfon considering he had been dealt out.
The presence of the two unidentified men on yacht that evening, rumoured to be Basque nationalists, was indicative of a link to Loiola’s crooked property dealings in Hendaye. In any case Cramer estab
lished a link between the two murders classifying them as ‘un reglement de comptes’, an expression the French liked to use to describe vengeance killings, the settling of scores, frequently between criminals and the like. Such crimes were low on their list of priorities, and when there were scandalous political implications, including corruption, they were quickly hushed-up.
The economic crisis, which appeared to at the root of that particular drama, seemed to have calmed. It was as though an abscess had been pierced, the pus drained, and the patient though looking tired and pale was on the mend, the worse had seemed to have been avoided. Ahead lay a long period of convalescence. Vast sums of money had been poured into economy and that money would have to be paid back weighing heavily on the patients prospects of a full recovery.
At the time of the Lehman collapse it had seemed the world’s financial system was near to meltdown, it had not happened. The massive printing of money by central banks had averted Armageddon, but the pervading market volatility was a sign that all was not entirely well.
The public had tired of the crisis and its related dramas. Halfon was written off, disappeared, leaving no visible trail. With his affairs in France seriously compromised, Halfon, feeling the heat, had slipped off for an undetermined period of time to escape the wolves. His exile, temporary or otherwise, would not however be one of misery. He could look forward to the comforts of a palatial home overlooking the sea on a private beach in the Senegalese beach resort of Saly, where he was developing a tourist project, including second homes overlooking the ocean and a safari resort in the Niokola Koba National Park on the Gambia River, to the east of the country, some seven hundred bumpy kilometres inland.
People were lulled into believing the crisis was over, and like elsewhere, tensions in the small seaside town of Hendaye had fallen; it was though people had accepted their fate. There, two subjects of conversation replaced that of the Jai Alai scandal, as it became to be known. The first concerned the possibility that the San Sebastian Airport, across the Bidassoa River, would extend its runway by two hundred metres ― and the effect an increased number of flight rotations would have on real estate values, the second was the choice of the route of the new Paris-Madrid high speed rail link, which would affect the value of property situated within a one kilometre wide band to each side of the future line.
Chapter 35 LINED WITH GOLD