Chapter 1

2009: A VIEW OVER THE ATLANTIC

He idly watched the unusual sight of the helicopter coming to land at Santa Cruz airport on the Atlantic island of Madeira. It was not five minutes later that he was aware of a jet airliner approaching.

Even before it had started to disgorge its passengers a second smaller dot emerged on the northern horizon over the sea.

From his vantage point the photographer managed to click off a few spectacular shots as the Gulfstream III swept down in front of the background of the high mountains and touched the airstrip of what was once named Funchal Airport. After landing, it bounced to the end of the runway, swept slowly around and taxied back down, turning precisely under the instructions of the yellow jacketed man. Following his exaggerated hand signals, it came to a rest near the idling helicopter.

The sound of the jets dropped to a loud unpleasant hum which was heard even over the sea. From the flying bridge of his vessel the photographer, with nothing better to do, idly watched as luggage was taken from the jet and wheeled across on a trolley to the helicopter, under the lazy supervision of a uniformed official.

Only now did the passenger door lower into a set of steps and a smartly attired attendant stepped down. In her hands were a couple of briefcases or laptops. She marched swiftly over to the helicopter and dropped them inside, returning to the official to whom she handed some documents.

A minute later, at the bottom of the unfolded steps of the aircraft she waited as a tall young woman of indeterminate age, dressed smartly in loose clothing, identified as most probably silk, athletically reached the tarmac.

From the glassy sea, the observer first considered that she must be one of the wives or girlfriends of the businessmen as she carried nothing in her hands. This was not the case however, for she studiously looked around and her focus fixed on each of the nearby workers in turn. There must've been a signalled quick exchange for a few moments later the observer's attention was again directed at the top of the steps. He was surprised to discover, not in man in his forties or fifties as expected, but a casually attired slim European who easily stepped down and with a final thank you to the hostess strode swiftly over towards the helicopter.

Once on board, the rotors started spinning. Only at a given sign did the lithe young woman, with head automatically bowed to avoid the spinning machinery, skip forward into the still open door before it was slid shut.

Immediately, the machine began to rise into the air and tipped forward pulling out over the sea into an accelerating retreat.

Even as the helicopter was whizzing along, on a slowly ascending course, the jet's engines had throttled up and it was taxiing to the take-off site. The shortage of space on the tiny airport meant that for the duration of the owner's visit, the jet would be located four hundred miles south at the larger airport of Las Palmas de Gran Canaria where it would be based until next needed.

From touchdown to take off, no more than ten minutes must have elapsed.

Inside the helicopter, the owner, facing a short journey, began to have his doubts.

Beside him, his assistant and bodyguard grinned smugly. It was worse that she knew him so well, she knew just what he was feeling and she had no sympathy for him. He worked too hard and needed a break.

She looked at him with a mixture of adoration and respect and not least of all, love. He was a man for whom she would willingly give up her life.

On his part, the man was confused. Everything that had occurred over the last two years or so had been so sudden. Not least was the attitude of others to a man of wealth. He did not quite understand the awe in which he was held by the few people who were aware of his true financial circumstances.

Men tried to be dragged along on to his apron strings, wanting to share in his riches by working for him, joining in partnerships or simply by trying to sell him something.

Most of them he ignored.

Females too had that cave-man urge to seek a strong partner to provide for them. Powerful men were an aphrodisiac, you only have to see the number of stupid women who had affairs with even the most unpleasant and unattractive men of government to see this.

With great strength of mind, he had so far ignored such blandishments despite the light-hearted encouragement of the woman sitting next to him. Her attitude to him too was swayed by these primeval pressures but she also owed him a debt of gratitude that could not be surpassed. Furthermore, her relationship was founded with him before she was aware of the resources under his control. And he was aware that money had nothing to do with initiation of the rapport.

One might consider it strange that she did not expect her wholehearted affection to be returned by him in the same way. She was not only content to take a subordinated role in their liaison but preferred it that way. No, she was not just content to be the junior, but she revelled in deferring to the man sitting next to her both in matters of the working partnership and more delicate matters.

Yet, if he analysed the relationship carefully, he may have been forced to the conclusion that it was she who determined the form of their relationship.

To understand this and to comprehend why the young businessman was so nervous, one had to go back some two or three years into the past.

The helicopter passenger's mind was affixed on sex, that was not unusual but what was strange was that, despite his wealth he did not partake of the foremost opportunities of physical sex that had been thrust his way. There had been many opportunities. As with any wealthy man, women were attracted to his riches as moths to fluttering candle flame, but he had availed himself of none.

There had been a number of meetings with senior executives of various firms and financiers. It was not unknown to be dined by a couple of businessmen who turned up with very attractive companions and another lady would be present to accompany him for the meal.

On the first two occasions he was quite naïve and ignored the delicate offers made by these escorts. Thereafter, despite the fact that their fees were fully paid by his hosts, he made it very clear that their social intercourse finished outside the bedroom door of whichever hotel they resided.

The young businessman couldn't say why, it was probably some half-forgotten memory in his childhood, but the idea of paying for sex, even if he was not the one footing the bill, just wasn't on.

Over the previous year, since he had been getting to grips with the family trusts and his personal funds, he had started to exercise own management over some of his finances. These pressing responsibilities that had been thrust upon him distracted his mind from concentrating on matters relating his own pleasure.

Charlie, who, from the first, was the closest to him was much more aware of how he thought than her age would lead one to suppose.

Was the reason he turned down these offers the fact that he did not want Charlie to think that he used the services of what were, in fact, nothing less than prostitutes?

He thought a lot of Charlie.

He was deterred from paying to use prostitutes, he had no intention of being swayed by the money grabbers and he despised many of his fellow multi-millionaires in their treatment of the dolly birds. They exploited these impressionable young bikini clad starlets and hopefuls, mercilessly violating them, inviting them to parties that were little better than orgies, throwing drugs at them to reduce them to perform like animals and then discarding them like unwanted trash.