“What sort of deal do you have in mind?” asked Seb.
“Over the past five years you must have paid an average of around two pounds ten shillings per share. I’m prepared to double that, and offer you five pounds a share, which I’m sure you’ll agree is generous.”
Far too generous, thought Seb. Three pounds should have been his opening bid, and four his closing. Why was Sloane so keen to keep him off the board?
“More than generous,” Seb replied. “But I still intend to take my place on the board. You see, with me it’s personal.”
“Then I shall have to make an official complaint to the Bank of England, pointing out that you have no interest in supporting the bank’s long-term aims.”
“Frankly, I’m only interested in finding out what Farthings’ long-term aims are. Which is why I visited the Bank of England last week and had a long chat with Mr. Craig, the chief compliance officer. He was kind enough to check the bank’s statutes, and has confirmed in writing that as long as I have a stockholding of six percent, I’m entitled to a place on the board. But do by all means give him a call.”
If Sloane had been a dragon, flames would have been belching out of his nostrils. “And if I were to offer you ten pounds a share?”
Sloane was clearly out of control, so Seb decided to lob a second grenade. “Then I’d begin to think the rumors were true.”
“What rumors?” demanded Sloane.
Did he dare risk taking another pin out? “Why don’t you ask Desmond Mellor and Alex Fisher what they’ve been up to behind your back?”
“How did you know—”
The hand grenade had exploded in Sloane’s face, but Seb couldn’t resist one more sortie. “You have a lot of enemies in the Square Mile, Sloane, and even one or two in your own office.”
“It’s time for you to leave, Clifton.”
“Yes, I’m sure you’re right. But I look forward to seeing you and your colleagues at next month’s board meeting. I have so many questions for them, particularly for Mr. Mellor, who seems quite happy to open the batting for both teams.”
Sloane didn’t move, but the flush in his cheeks showed another hand grenade had exploded.
Seb smiled for the first time, rose from his place, and turned to leave, when Sloane lobbed his own hand grenade.
“I fear I won’t be seeing you again for some time, Sebastian.”
“Why not?” demanded Seb, swinging round.
“Because at the last board meeting we passed a resolution stating that any outsider who wished to join the board in future would be required to own ten percent of the company’s stock.”
“You can’t do that,” said Seb, defiantly.
“I can and I have,” said Sloane, “and I feel sure you’ll be pleased to hear that Mr. Craig, the chief compliance officer at the Bank of England, has given our unanimous resolution his blessing. So I’ll see you in about five years’ time. But don’t hold your breath, Seb, because if you did get hold of ten percent, we would just have to pass another resolution.”
30
“How long do you think you’ll be in Russia?” Giles asked Harry as he rose from the dining table and led his guests through to the drawing room for coffee.
“Just a few hours, at most overnight.”
“What takes you back there? No one visits that place a second time without a damn good reason.”
“I’m going shopping.”
“Paris, Rome, New York...” said Giles, “but no one goes shopping in Russia, other than the locals.”
“Unless there’s something they have in Russia you can’t buy in Paris, Rome, or New York?” suggested Emma, as she poured her brother a coffee.
“Ah, how slow of me. I should have remembered that Harry’s just returned from the States, and Harold Guinzburg wasn’t the only person he visited. That’s a clue Inspector Warwick wouldn’t have missed.”
“I would have put off the trip until after Emma’s trial,” said Harry, ignoring Giles’s deduction, “but my visa runs out in a couple of weeks, and the Russian Embassy’s warned me there could be a six-month delay before they issue me with a new one.”
“Just be careful,” said Giles. “The Russians may have their own Inspector Warwick, who could be sitting waiting for you.” After his own experience in East Berlin, Giles doubted if Harry would get beyond customs but he accepted there was no way he could ever hope to dissuade his brother-in-law once he’d made up his mind.
“I’ll be in and out before they realize it,” said Harry, “so there’s nothing for you to be anxious about. In fact, I’m far more worried about the problems Emma’s facing.”
“What in particular?” asked Giles as he handed Harry a brandy.
“Desmond Mellor is standing for deputy chairman at next month’s board meeting,” said Emma.
“Are you telling me that charlatan’s found two directors who are willing to propose and second him?” said Giles.
“Yes, his old friend Jim Knowles, assisted by his even older friend Clive Anscott.”
“But if they fail to get him elected,” said Giles, “surely all three of them will have to resign? So this could turn out to be a blessing in disguise.”
“Not much of a blessing if they do get him elected,” said Harry.
“Why? What’s the worst Mellor can do, even if he does become deputy chairman?” said Giles.
“He could suggest that I stand down until the trial is over,” said Emma, “‘for the good of the company.’”
“And then the deputy chairman would become acting chairman.”
“But only for a few weeks,” said Harry. “You’d return once the trial was over.”
“You can’t afford to give Mellor that much rope,” said Giles. “Once you’re no longer able to attend board meetings, he’ll find a way of making temporary become permanent, believe me.”
“But you could refuse to stand down, Emma, even if he does become your deputy,” suggested Harry.
“I won’t be given a lot of choice if I have to spend the best part of a month stuck in the High Court, defending myself.”
“But once you win...” said Giles.
“If I win.”
“I can’t wait to get in the witness box and tell the jury some home truths about Virginia.”
“We won’t be calling you, Giles,” said Emma quietly.
“But I know more about Virginia than—”
“That’s exactly what my barrister is worried about. After a few well-chosen words from her ex-husband, the jury might even end up feeling sorry for her, and Mr. Trelford, my barrister, says Sir Edward Makepeace, her silk, won’t be shy about raising the subject of your second divorce, and what caused it.”
“So who are you going to call?”
“Major Alex Fisher MP.”
“But won’t he be a defense witness?”
“Mr. Trelford doesn’t think so. Fisher could well be as much of a liability for them as you might be for us.”
“Then perhaps the other side will call me?” said Giles, sounding hopeful.
“Let’s hope not.”
“I’d pay good money to see Fisher in the witness box,” said Giles, ignoring his sister’s barb. “Remind Mr. Trelford that he’s got a very short fuse, especially if he’s not treated with the respect he feels he deserves, and that was true even before he became an MP.”
“The same can be said of Virginia,” said Harry. “She won’t be able to resist reminding everyone that she’s the daughter of an earl. And there won’t be too many of those on the jury.”
“However,” said Giles, “it would be equally foolish to underestimate Sir Edward. If I may quote Trollope when describing another advocate, he is ‘as bright as a diamond, and as cutting, and also as unimpressionable.’”