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SNOWING IN BALI

‘I’ll give you 30 years in jail, Andre. It’s a long, long time,’ he started. ‘But if you help us, you will maybe only get ten years. If you don’t help us, I’ll give you 20, 30 years in jail.’

Andre threw it straight back. ‘Hey, don’t talk bullshit – you don’t give me anything. You’re a policeman. If you want to be judge, you need to go and study at least another ten years. Don’t treat me like a kid, please.’

‘Tell us where your money is and we can help you,’ Chief Caieron pushed.

‘Ho, right! You want my money to help me? You come inside with guns and want to put me in jail, and you want my money to help me? Please don’t play me for a fool. If you want to help me, then tell me how much you want – maybe I can help you or not. But if you just want my money to use against me, don’t talk to me; lock me up, call my lawyer.’

‘Ah, you think you’re smart, Andre, but we got you. Now I can come to your house with girls, use your swimming pool, use your car.’

Andre looked at him with incredulity: he felt the tactic was so blatant, not worthy of the master manipulator. ‘You can try,’ he said.

‘I will try.’

Andre wasn’t going to break. ‘Okay, do your best, man, you can use my swimming pool, you can bring girls. This is just one of my houses around the world; you think I care about this house?’

‘We know you, Andre, we’ve been spying on you.’

‘Well, then you know I don’t have drugs in my house; so why do you come here with this big operation?’

‘Not just your house, Andre. Right now police are in your restaurant, at your girlfriend’s house, at your storage.’

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