Deadly Business (31 page)

‘You have to take a long-term view, Mrs Blackstone,’ he countered.

‘No, I don’t,’ I shot back at him. ‘First and foremost I have to protect the interests of the Gantry Group, and this deal is undermining them. Leaked information about it is being used against us in the City, and it’s very damaging. I’m pulling our company out of this thing and I want our money back, pronto.’

He shook his head, still wearing that annoyingly assured smirk. ‘It’s not as easy as that,’ he said. ‘Babylon Links can only be wound up by agreement between the parties, and I have very firm instructions from my principal that we are not going to agree to that. The same goes for the Gantry Group’s investment; it won’t be returned either.’

I was contemplating how long I’d get for battering dear Diego to death with his own Purdy when my mobile sounded. I looked at the number, recognised it as Cress Oldham’s, and took the call.

‘I’ve got a certain amount of information,’ she announced. ‘It’s strange. Two different consultancies have been active against us. One of them is Seventh Financial; its people have been spreading the personal stuff about you, but I’m sorry, they won’t tell me who’s instructed them.’

‘Don’t worry about that,’ I told her. ‘I know who it was, and I’ve dealt with it. What about the others?’

‘According to my tame analyst, the leaked information is being put about by a firm called Greentree Stanley City. I know a couple of their people and I nobbled one at lunchtime. He admitted it but didn’t give me the faintest hint of the source.’

‘Any chance of progress on that front?’ I asked, cryptically, because Fabricant was making no pretence of not listening to my end of the conversation.

‘I’d have to go through their entire client list, and when I did I’d still be guessing. I’ll try, though.’

‘You do that, and respond soonest.’

‘I will, but … there’s something else happening, Mrs Blackstone, and I don’t know what it is. The share price is heading south again; that tells me there’s new information out there, and it’s not good.’

‘Then get digging. Cheers.’ I pocketed my phone.

‘Not bad news, I hope,’ Fabricant oozed.

‘Only for whoever it is that’s trying to undermine me. I will find them, and I will get even. When that happens, mate, it will be cataclysmic.’

‘That may be,’ he said. ‘But I would suggest you do it quickly. From what I hear your tenure of office may be rather short.’

‘That’s been said at other times and in other places, but I’m still here.’ I started to rise. ‘I’ll give your principal forty-eight hours to authorise the release of our funds.’

‘Actually, I had the opposite in mind.’ There was something in his tone that made me sit down again, as he took a document from his desk and slid it across the desk. ‘This is a copy of the agreement signed by Mr Culshaw when we set up our joint venture. If you read it, you’ll see that it commits Gantry to providing funding of up to fifty million, not merely the twenty that’s been lodged so far.’

I scanned the document, then passed it to Wylie. He read it and winced. ‘What he says is the case, Mada … Primavera.’

‘And we’re calling for the balance to be subscribed immediately,’ Fabricant announced. That was Cress’s new information, I realised at once; it was out there in the public domain and it was screwing us already.

‘And I’m telling you to fuck off,’ I retorted. ‘Come on, Wylie, we’re out of here.’

As we stood, he stayed seated, grinning at my anger. ‘We’ll sue,’ he warned.

‘You do that,’ I snapped. ‘See if you can arrange for the case to be heard by Lord January. He’s my son’s uncle. I’ll be telling him all about you, Diego, and he’ll be telling all his friends.’

It was a crap threat and we both knew it, but it was all I had, other than the satisfaction of shaking his office door on its hinges as I closed it behind me. I’d expected to see Kim Coates beaming behind her desk, but she was gone.

I headed for the exit, then paused. I took out my phone and photographed Fabricant’s client board, then stepped into the corridor. Outside I sent the image to Cress Oldham, with a text message.

‘Check this against the enemy’s client list. See if it sets anything off. P.’

‘We’re in trouble, aren’t we?’ Wylie sighed as we stepped into the glass lift.

‘That’s a fair analysis,’ I chuckled.

‘You must be regretting letting yourself get involved in this.’

The chuckle became a full-out laugh. ‘Are you kidding?’ I exclaimed. ‘I haven’t felt so alive in years.’ He probably thought I was crazy, and if he did, quite possibly he was right.

Finally, I had to admit to the truth, that I’d been hiding from myself, and that, apart from watching Tom grow towards manhood, the challenge of risk and danger, be it financial or physical, is the only thing that really floats my boat.

Wylie and I had quite a bit to take in. I didn’t want to do it on the move, or in a pub, and so at his suggestion we went for afternoon tea in the Caley Hotel. Expensive yes, but compared with that taxi trip, good value for money.

‘What do we do, Mr Company Secretary?’ I asked him as we surveyed a three-tier stand laden with the kind of items that I’d been warning Tom since infancy were bad for his teeth.

He didn’t reply immediately. Instead he took Diego Fabricant’s document from the pocket to which he’d consigned it, and reread it, slowly and carefully.

When he was finished he passed it to me. ‘That’s watertight,’ he decreed. ‘Phil did have the authority to commit the company to providing that level of finance, when called upon by our partner. We are liable.’ He paused. ‘Look, you’d need to ask Gerry Meek to confirm this, but I don’t believe it would bankrupt the company. You could cover it, but it would mean selling assets in a down market for much less than their potential worth, or borrowing against them at rates that would make your eyes water. It won’t bust you, but it will devalue your shares.’

‘And that’s what’s happening already,’ I murmured.

‘So it appears. Did you mean it when you said that you wouldn’t meet your obligation?’ he asked.

‘Christ, Wylie!’ I exclaimed. ‘Don’t put it that way. You don’t need to be that blunt.’

‘I’m sorry, but Monsoon’s QC will be even more direct than that if this gets to court.’

I called Cress Oldham. ‘What’s happened since we spoke last?’ I asked her.

‘The opposition is suggesting that Gantry’s due to funnel another thirty million into this development,’ she replied. ‘Tell me it’s not true, please.’

‘Sorry, it is. I’ve just found that out.’

‘In that case we can’t hide from it.’ I was getting to like Cressida, for her frankness and the honesty of her advice. ‘We have to advise the Stock Exchange of the position … as gently as we can, but we have to do it.’

‘I can see that. I’ll authorise you to issue a statement by me, confirming that we are committed to providing up to fifty million to finance the development. You should add that it is the upper limit of our involvement, and that the plan is for the investment to be recovered by the sale of tradable bonds to future members of the club. Finish up by saying that pending an extraordinary general meeting, Mr Philip Culshaw has been suspended as managing director, and succeeded temporarily by the finance director. How does all that sound?’

‘Strong,’ she said. ‘It doesn’t hide from the company’s weekened position, but it does show that you’re firmly in charge. The market will approve of that; they’re getting to like you already.’

‘Hopefully it isn’t going to turn into a long-term romance,’ I told her, ‘and I’ll be able to hand over to a permanent chair.’

She whistled, softly. ‘If you don’t mind, Mrs Blackstone, I’m not even going to hint at that. They’ve worked out who your brother-in-law is.’

‘His name is not to be mentioned,’ I warned her.

‘And it hasn’t been, by me, but it’s a fact and if it helps us, so be it.’

‘It won’t help us when it counts, though: at the EGM. Culshaw’s called it and he’s threatened to bring me down.’

‘But he can’t, can he? He doesn’t have the shares.’

‘No,’ I agreed, ‘but two people can, even if neither of them would. Two children, kids I love and who love me. The way things stand, they’ll be my undoing. And probably yours too,’ I warned, ‘if it goes that way.’

‘Is there anything you can do about it?’

‘Change the rules of the game,’ I responded, ‘but right now I don’t have a clue how to do that.’ I didn’t want to depress her further so I changed tack. ‘Did you get the image I sent you?’

‘Yes I did, and it’s legible. I’ve put my assistant on it. If there’s anything there he’ll find it.’

‘Soon?’

‘Yes. Meanwhile, I’ll issue your statement, and brief as hard as I can in your support.’

I let her get on with it, and turned back to the tea table to find that Wylie had eaten all the sandwiches. I picked up an éclair and was halfway through it when he asked me, ‘How many members do we have to recruit to get our money back?’

I made him wait until I’d finished the pastry and picked up another. ‘If income is split evenly between the partners … a safe assumption given the stupidity of everything else Phil did … there will have to be a thousand before we break even. But that depends on the bonds actually being sellable at a hundred grand.’

‘Is that realistic?’

‘I doubt it. I’d need to ask Jonny, Oz’s nephew. He’s a pro, and he has a very efficient manager called Brush Donnelly. He might be able to advise us. My gut, though, says that if we were marketing aggressively and internationally, quoting a hundred thousand US dollars, not sterling, it might be doable, but it would take a long time.’

‘If we could persuade Monsoon to hold off on demanding the extra thirty million?’

‘And finish the course with what we’ve put in so far? The number needed would drop to four hundred. But you saw Fabricant. Did he look negotiable? No, Wylie, it’s a set-up and old Phil’s taken us right into it, with his fucking nephew, if I read his reaction right. But what does Duncan have to gain if he is involved with it? Unless,’ a conspiracy revealed itself to me, ‘it’s a complete scam, the course never gets built and the money disappears. What about that?’

‘Then Farbricant would be party to a fraud,’ Wylie countered, ‘and there are no shooting parties in jail.’

‘True,’ I conceded. ‘So what else is up? Why do I feel there’s another game being played, right under my nose, only I can’t see the action?’

As I demolished my second éclair, my companion shook his head. ‘I have no idea, Primavera,’ he murmured. ‘I’m only a humble solicitor.’

I had to laugh. ‘That makes you unique in your profession, chum. Let’s go back to Glasgow,’ I said, ‘and find out what my boys have been up to.’

I let Wylie pay the bill … as an unspoken punishment for scoffing all the sandwiches … and we left the hotel. We headed along the tram-ravaged Princes Street, towards Waverley Station, and had almost reached the Mound junction when my phone sounded once again. I took it out and was surprised to see that the caller was Tom.

‘Hi, love,’ I answered. ‘Where are you?’

He shot my question back at me. ‘Where are you?’

‘I’m in Edinburgh with a colleague,’ I told him. ‘Now it’s your turn.’

‘So are we.’

‘You are? How come?’

‘We waited for Duncan,’ he began, ‘like you asked, outside. He had a car parked on a meter just around the corner. He didn’t see us and we were able to follow him. He went on to the motorway then came all the way through here and stopped at a house in a street called Farmer’s Way.’

‘When did he arrive?’

‘About ten minutes ago.’

‘What’s Liam doing? Why are you making the call?’

‘He’s busy, taking photographs of the house. It’s a big place, but we can see up the driveway. Duncan went right up the driveway and parked in front of the garage, then he went into the house. What’s he doing here, Mum?’ he asks. ‘He should be in Monaco, with Janet and wee Jonathan, if he’s going to be their stepfather. Shouldn’t he?’

‘You might think so,’ I murmured. ‘What happened when he got there? Who answered the door? Did you see?’

‘Nobody. He used a key and went in. He didn’t ring the bell or anything.’

‘Do you know if there’s anyone else in the house?’

‘That’s what Liam’s trying to see.’

‘What number is it?’ I asked. ‘Are you close enough to see that?’

‘I don’t think it’s got a number, Mum. But it does have a name. “Springs Eternal”, it says on the sign at the entrance.’

‘Somebody’s got a sense of humour. Let me see if I can find out anything about it. Tell Liam I’ll call you back.’

As we crossed the junction I explained to Wylie what had happened. ‘How easy is it to find out who owns the place?’

‘Simple. Let me call my secretary.’

I gave him the details. He phoned his office, snapped out clear crisp instructions, then suggested that we wait for a reply. We sat on one of the benches that look down into the eastern side of Princes Street Gardens. It was a warm afternoon, although not hot by my standards. Yet people were sunbathing, possibly getting themselves a base tan for the holiday season.