‘Is Keith there?’ asked an anxious voice.
‘Who’s calling, please?’
‘Henry Wolstenholme,’ he boomed.
‘Good morning, Mr. Wolstenholme. Mr. Townsend tried to call you this morning, but your line was continually engaged.’
‘I know. Someone called me at home around seven, but it turned out to be a wrong number. When I tried to dial out later, the line had gone dead. But where is Keith?’
‘He’s on a plane to Melbourne. His mother’s had a heart attack and the High Commissioner arranged to hold up the flight for him.’
‘I’m sorry to hear about Keith’s mother, but I fear Mr. Shuttleworth may not be willing to hold up the contract. It’s been hard enough to get him to agree to see us at all.’
Benson read out the exact words Armstrong had written down for him: ‘Mr. Townsend instructed me to say that he has sent a representative up to Leeds with the authority to sign any contract, as long as you have no objection.’
‘I have no objection,’ said Wolstenholme. ‘When is he expected to arrive?’
‘He should be at the Queen’s Hotel by now. He left for Leeds soon after Mr. Townsend departed for Heathrow. I wouldn’t be surprised if he was already in the hotel looking for you.’
‘I’d better go down to the foyer and see if I can find him,’ said Wolstenholme.
‘By the way,’ said Benson, ‘our accountant just wanted to check the final figure — £120,000.’
‘Plus all the legal expenses,’ said Wolstenholme.
‘Plus all the legal expenses,’ repeated Benson. ‘I won’t keep you any longer, Mr. Wolstenholme.’ He put the phone down.
Wolstenholme left the White Rose Room and headed down in the lift, confident that if Keith’s lawyer had a money draft for the full amount, he could still have everything settled before Mr. Shuttleworth arrived. There was only one problem: he had no idea who he was looking for.
Benson asked the switchboard operator to connect him to a number in Leeds. When the call was answered, he asked to be put through to room 217.
‘Well done, Benson,’ said Armstrong after he had confirmed the figure of £120,000. ‘Now book out of the hotel, pay the bill in cash and take the rest of the day off.’
Armstrong left room 217 and took the lift down to the ground floor. As he stepped out into the foyer he saw Hallet talking to the man he had seen at the Savoy. He went straight over to them. ‘Good morning,’ he said. ‘My name is Richard Armstrong, and this is the company lawyer. I think you’re expecting us.’
Wolstenholme stared at Armstrong. He could have sworn he’d seen him somewhere before. ‘Yes. I’ve booked us into the White Rose Room so we won’t be disturbed.’
The two men nodded and followed him. ‘Sad news about Keith’s mother,’ said Wolstenholme as they stepped into the lift.
‘Yes, wasn’t it?’ said Armstrong, careful not to add anything that might later incriminate him.
Once they had taken their places round the boardroom table in the White Rose Room, Armstrong and Hallet checked over the details of the contract line by line, while Wolstenholme sat in the corner drinking coffee. He was surprised that they were going over the final draft so thoroughly when Keith had already given it his blessing, but he accepted that he would have done the same in their position. From time to time Hallet came up with a question which was invariably followed by a whispered exchange with Armstrong. An hour later they passed the contract back to Wolstenholme and confirmed that everything was in order.
Wolstenholme was about to ask some questions of his own, when a middle-aged man shuffled in, dressed in a prewar suit that hadn’t yet come back into fashion. Wolstenholme introduced John Shuttleworth, who smiled shyly. After they had shaken hands Armstrong said, ‘Nothing left for us to do except sign the contract.’
John Shuttleworth nodded his agreement, and Armstrong removed a pen from inside his jacket and bent down to sign where Stephen’s trembling finger was poised. He passed the pen over to Shuttleworth, who signed between the penciled crosses without uttering a word. Stephen then handed over a draft for £120,000 to Wolstenholme. The lawyer nodded when Armstrong reminded him that as it was a draft for cash, it would perhaps be wise to bank it immediately.
‘I’ll just pop across to the nearest Midland while they’re setting up for lunch,’ said Wolstenholme. ‘I shouldn’t be more than a few minutes.’
When Wolstenholme returned, he found Shuttleworth seated at the lunch table on his own. ‘Where are the other two?’ he asked.
‘They were most apologetic, but said they couldn’t wait for lunch — had to get back to London.’ Wolstenholme looked perplexed. There were still several questions he wanted to ask — and he didn’t know where to send his bill. Shuttleworth poured him a glass of champagne and said, ‘Congratulations, Henry. You couldn’t have done a more professional job. I must say your friend Townsend is obviously a man of action.’
‘Not much doubt about that,’ said Wolstenholme.
‘And generous, too,’ said Shuttleworth.
‘Generous?’
‘Yes — they may have left without saying goodbye, but they threw in a couple of bottles of champagne.’
When Wolstenholme arrived home that night, the phone was ringing. He picked it up to find Townsend on the other end of the line.
‘I was so sorry to hear about your mother,’ were Henry’s opening words.
‘There’s nothing wrong with my mother,’ said Townsend sharply.
‘What?’ said Henry. ‘But...’
‘I’m returning on the next available flight. I’ll be in Leeds by tomorrow evening.’
‘No need to do that, old chap,’ said Henry, slightly bemused. ‘Shuttleworth has already signed.’
‘But the contract still needs my signature,’ said Townsend.
‘No it doesn’t. Your representative signed everything on your behalf,’ said Henry, ‘and I can assure you that all the paperwork was in order.’
‘My representative?’ said Townsend.
‘Yes, a Mr. Richard Armstrong. I banked his draft for £120,000 just before lunch. There’s really no need for you to come all the way back. WRG now belongs to you.’
Townsend slammed the phone down and turned round to find Kate standing behind him. ‘I’m going on to Sydney, but I want you to return to London and find out everything you can about a man called Richard Armstrong.’
‘So that’s the name of the man who was sitting in the next alcove to us at the Savoy.’
‘It would seem so,’ said Townsend, spitting out the words.
‘And he now owns the West Riding Group?’
‘Yes, he does.’
‘Can’t you do anything about it?’
‘I could sue him for misrepresentation, even fraud, but that could take years. In any case, a man who would go to that amount of trouble will have made sure he stayed within the letter of the law. And one thing’s for sure: Shuttleworth isn’t going to agree to appear in any witness box.’
Kate frowned. ‘Well then, I can’t see much point in returning to London now. I suspect your battle with Mr. Richard Armstrong has only just begun. We may as well spend the night in Bombay,’ she suggested. ‘I’ve never been to India.’
Townsend looked at her, but didn’t say anything until he spotted a TWA captain heading toward them.
‘Which is the best hotel in Bombay?’ he asked him.
The captain stopped. ‘They tell me the Grand Palace is in a class of its own, but I’ve never actually stayed there myself,’ he replied.
‘Thank you,’ said Townsend, and began pushing their baggage toward the exit. Just as they stepped out of the terminal it began to rain.