Paz smiled and nodded towards the two empty wine bottles on the walnut dining table. “We need some more wine, brother.”

Paz disappeared into the kitchen, and when he returned a few moments later he wasn’t holding a fresh bottle of wine. Herrera was busy sorting through the remnants of his prawn curry and never saw his boss lift his arm and fire two rounds from his Glock, which shattered his skull. Paz placed the weapon down on the table and retrieved his phone from his back trouser pocket. He clicked on the camera and took a couple of different-sized shots of Herrera’s slumped corpse. A few seconds later Franklin’s mobile received two text images.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

18 January 2012

San Francisco

Mary Hutchinson, Richard Franklin’s personal assistant, ran through the daily itinerary with her boss at their usual 8 a.m. briefing. Just before they wrapped, she brought up a slightly embarrassing matter that she’d deliberately left until last.

“Sir, I took a call last night from a Lieutenant Hembury of the LA Police Department. He would like to see you to discuss what he referred to as a delicate matter concerning someone on the senior management team. I told him you were incredibly busy and suggested he meet with the head of HR, but he was insistent he meet with you.”

Franklin was clearly irritated by the request. “Go back and say I need to know the specific name of the employee before I agree to see him.”

“I’m afraid I tried that angle, sir, but he wouldn’t back down. He said he had to meet with the CEO of the corporation.”

Troy Hembury took the short flight from LA to San Francisco. He had no luggage, so exited the airport ten minutes after landing and jumped into a yellow taxi that took him downtown to the prestigious offices of the Franklin Pharmaceutical Corporation. Franklin’s personal assistant had booked him for an end-of-day meeting on the proviso that he would only have a maximum of fifteen minutes with the company’s CEO.

At six o’clock precisely, Mary Hutchinson ushered the lieutenant into Franklin’s imposing office. The maple wood-panel walls housed some spectacular artwork. An eclectic mix of modern and Renaissance, which included a Picasso and a Raphael hanging side by side. The cream tumbled marble floor was partially covered by a midnight blue Chinese silk rug. Everything about the office screamed wealth, power and influence. Franklin rose from behind his massive designer Italian desk, coated with a white ebony veneer. He greeted Hembury with a firm handshake and gestured for him to take a seat on one of the two black leather sofas that faced each other.

His opening gambit told Hembury this wasn’t a man who did small talk.