Mightier Than the Sword (35 page)

Seb got out as the other policeman opened his briefcase and extracted a large yellow balloon-like bag attached to a tube. “This is a Breathalyzer, sir, and I have to ask if you are willing to be tested to see if you are above the legal limit.”

“At ten o’clock in the morning?”

“It’s standard procedure for a speeding offense. If you choose not to do so, I shall have to ask you to accompany me to the nearest police station.”

“That won’t be necessary, officer, I’m quite happy to take the test.”

He carried out the instructions to the letter, well aware that he’d only had two Campari and sodas the previous night. Once he’d blown into the tube twice—evidently he didn’t blow hard enough the first time—the two officers studied the orange indicator for some time, before one of them pronounced, “No problem there, sir, you’re well below the limit.”

“Thank God for that,” said Seb, climbing back into his car.

“Just a moment, sir, we’re not quite finished. We still have a couple of forms to fill in. Your name, please, sir?”

“But I’m in a hurry,” said Seb, regretting his words the moment he’d said them.

“We’d gathered that, sir.”

“Sebastian Clifton.”

“Home address?”

When the officer had finally filled in the answer to the last question, he handed Seb a speeding ticket, saluted, and said, “Have a good day, sir, and please drive more carefully in the future.”

Sebastian glanced desperately at the little clock on the dashboard, but it faithfully recorded the correct time. In forty minutes, his mother would be calling the board meeting to order, and he couldn’t help remembering that the election of a new deputy chairman was the first item on the agenda.

*   *   *

Lady Virginia took her time telling Sir Edward what really happened on the first morning of the
Buckingham
’s maiden voyage.

“Fascinating,” he said. “But it’s not something we can use in evidence.”

“Why not? Mrs. Clifton wouldn’t be able to deny it, and then she’d have to resign as chairman of Barrington’s and we couldn’t lose the case.”

“Possibly not, but the judge would rule the evidence as inadmissible. And that’s not the only reason we couldn’t use it.”

“What more do you need?” asked Virginia.

“A witness who wasn’t dismissed for being drunk on duty, and who clearly bears a grudge against the company, and a director who would be willing to stand in the witness box and give evidence under oath.”

“But it’s no more than the truth.”

“It may well be, but tell me, Lady Virginia, have you read Harry Clifton’s latest novel?”

“Certainly not.”

“Then be thankful that I have, because in
Inspector Warwick and the Time Bomb
you will find almost word for word the story you’ve just told me. And you can be sure that at least one or two members of the jury will also have read it.”

“But surely that would only strengthen our case?”

“More likely we’d be laughed out of court.”

*   *   *

Emma looked slowly around the table. Every director was in place except Sebastian. But never in her eleven years as chairman of Barrington’s had she failed to begin a meeting on time.

Philip Webster, the company secretary, opened proceedings by reading the minutes of the previous meeting. Far too quickly in Emma’s opinion. “Are there any matters arising from the minutes?” she asked hopefully. There were none.

“So let us move on, to item number one, the election of a deputy chairman. Desmond Mellor has been proposed by Jim Knowles and seconded by Clive Anscott. Before I call for a vote, does anyone have any questions?”

Mellor shook his head and Knowles said nothing, both well aware that Sebastian Clifton might appear at any moment. Emma stared hopefully at the admiral, but he looked as if he’d fallen asleep.

“I think we’ve all had more than enough time to consider our position,” said Anscott.

“I agree,” said Knowles. “Let’s get on with the vote.”

“Before we do so,” said Emma, “perhaps Mr. Mellor would care to address the board on why he feels he’s the right man to be deputy chairman of Barrington’s.”

“I don’t think that will be necessary,” said Mellor, who had spent some considerable time preparing a speech, which he now had no intention of delivering. “I leave my record to speak for itself.”

As Emma had now run out of delaying tactics, she was left with no choice but to call on the company secretary to carry out the roll call.

Webster rose from his place and read out the names of each director, starting with the chairman, Mrs. Clifton.

“I shall abstain,” said Emma.

“Mr. Maynard?”

“For.”

“Mr. Dixon?”

“Against.”

“Mr. Anscott?”

“For.”

“Mr. Knowles?”

“For.”

“Mr. Dobbs?”

“Against.”

He too had kept his word. Emma kept looking toward the door.

“Mr. Carrick?”

“For.”

Emma looked surprised. The last time they’d spoken, Carrick had given her his assurance that he wouldn’t be supporting Mellor. Who had been the last person to sit on that particular cushion, she wondered.

“Admiral Summers?”

“Against.”

Not a man to desert his friends.

“Mr. Clifton?”

Webster looked around the table and, satisfied that Sebastian wasn’t present, wrote
Absent
by his name.

“Mr. Bingham?”

“Against.”

No surprise. He disliked Mellor almost as much as she did.

Emma smiled. Four all. As chairman, she wouldn’t hesitate to exercise her casting vote to stop Mellor becoming deputy chairman.

“And finally, Mr. Mellor?” said the company secretary.

“For,” he said firmly.

Emma was momentarily stunned. But turning to Mellor, she eventually managed, “You told me only yesterday that you would be abstaining, which is why I did so myself. Had I known of this change of heart—”

“Since I spoke to you yesterday evening,” said Mellor, “one or two of my colleagues have pointed out that the company’s statutes allow a board member to vote for himself when standing for office. Reluctantly, I allowed them to convince me that I should do so.”

“But you gave me your word.”

“I did call you at home, several times this morning, chairman, but the line was always busy.”

Not something Emma was able to contradict. She sank back into her chair.

Mr. Webster carefully double-checked the list, but Emma already knew the result and its consequences.

“By a vote of five to four, Mr. Mellor is elected deputy chairman.”

Some people around the table smiled and said, “Hear, hear.” Others remained silent.

Seb had been right. She should have voted against Mellor in the first place, and then she could have defeated him with her casting vote. But where was Seb, whose vote would have made that unnecessary? How could he have let her down when she most needed him? And then she froze, and stopped being the chairman of a public company and reverted to being a mother. Was it possible her son had been involved in another dreadful accident? Emma couldn’t bear the thought of going through all that again. She’d far rather lose the vote than …

“Item number two,” said the company secretary. “To select a launch date for the MV
Balmoral,
and for the opening of the first booking period for her maiden voyage to New York.”

“Before we move on to item two,” said Mellor, rising from his place to deliver a speech that had also been well prepared, “I consider it nothing less than my duty to remind the board that Mrs. Clifton is about to face a most unpleasant trial that has already attracted considerable media attention. Of course, we all hope, and expect, that our chairman will be able to dismiss the serious charges levelled against her. However, should Lady Virginia Fenwick succeed in proving her case, obviously Mrs. Clifton would have to consider her position. With that in mind, it might be prudent for her to temporarily, and I stress the word temporarily, step down as chairman until the trial is over.” He paused for a moment and looked at each of his fellow directors in turn before adding, “I hope it won’t be necessary to call a vote on this occasion.”

Emma could sense that if it was put to a vote, the board were, with one or two exceptions, broadly in agreement with the new deputy chairman’s proposal. She gathered up her things and quietly left the room.

Mellor was about to move into her chair when Admiral Summers rose from his place, and fixed him with a stare as if he were a German U boat commander, before saying, “This is not the board I joined twenty years ago, and I no longer care to be a member of it.”

As he left the room, Bob Bingham and David Dixon joined him.

When the door closed behind them, Mellor turned to Knowles and said, “That’s a bonus I hadn’t anticipated.”

SEBASTIAN CLIFTON

1970

33

“W
HAT
DO
I
TELL
your father when he phones to ask me how the board meeting went?”

“The truth. He’ll expect nothing less.”

“But if I do, he’ll turn around and come straight back home.”

“Why, where is he?”

“At Heathrow, waiting to board a flight to Leningrad.”

“How unlike him to leave when—”

“It’s my fault. I told him we couldn’t possibly lose the vote, and he took my word for it.”

“And we wouldn’t have done if I’d arrived on time.”

“True enough. Perhaps it would have been more sensible if you’d come down the night before,” said Emma.

“And if you’d taken my advice, none of this would have happened,” snapped Seb.

Both of them remained silent for some time.

“How important is Dad’s trip to Leningrad?”

“Every bit as important as this morning’s vote was for me. He’s been preparing for it for weeks, and if he doesn’t go now, he won’t get another chance for a very long time, if ever. Anyway, he’s only going to be away for a couple of days.” She looked at her son. “Perhaps you could take the call when he phones.”

“And say what?” asked Seb. “If he asks me how the meeting went, I’ll have to tell him the truth otherwise he’ll never trust me again.” He brought the car to a halt outside the Manor House. “What time did you say he was likely to call?”

“His flight’s at four, so I suppose it will be some time around three.”

Seb looked at his watch. “Don’t worry, I’ll come up with something by then.”

*   *   *

Harry didn’t need to check in his luggage because he’d only brought an overnight bag. He knew exactly what he needed to do from the moment he landed and he would have more than enough time to fine-tune his plan on the long flight across the continent. If the impossible had happened and Emma had lost the vote, then it wouldn’t matter anyway, because he’d be taking the next train back to Bristol.

“This is the first call for all passengers on BOAC flight 726 to Leningrad. Would you please make your way to gate number three where the flight is now boarding.”

Harry strode across to the nearest phone booth, clutching a handful of coins. He dialed his home number and fed in enough money to allow him three minutes.

“Bristol 4313,” said a voice he recognized immediately.

“Seb, hi. What are you doing at home?”

“Helping Mum celebrate. I’ll go and get her so she can tell you the good news herself.”

“This is the second call for passengers traveling to Leningrad on BOAC flight number…”

“Hello, darling,” said Emma. “I’m so glad you called, because—” The line went dead.

“Emma, are you there?” There was no reply. “Emma?” he tried again, but there was still no response and he didn’t have enough coins left over to call a second time.

“This is the third and final call for passengers on BOAC flight 726 to Leningrad.”

Harry replaced the receiver, trying to recall Seb’s exact words—“Helping Mum celebrate. I’ll go and get her so she can tell you the good news herself.” When Emma had come on the line, she had sounded unusually cheerful. She must have won the vote, Harry concluded. Despite this, he hesitated for a moment.

“Would Mr. Harry Clifton please make his way to gate number three, as the gate is about to close.”

*   *   *

“What are we celebrating?” asked Emma.

“I don’t know,” said Seb, “but I’ll think of something by the time Dad gets back from Russia. But for now we have to concentrate on more immediate problems.”

“There’s not much we can do until the trial is over.”

“Mother, you must stop acting like a Girl Guide, and begin to think like Mellor and Knowles.”

“And what are they thinking at this moment?”

“That it couldn’t have gone better for them if they’d planned it. Not only did they get rid of you, but three of your most trusted lieutenants at the same time.”

“Three honorable men,” said Emma.

“Just like Brutus, and look where that got him.”

“I wish I’d still been in the boardroom when Admiral Summers—”

“You’re back in your Girl Guide uniform, Mother. Now snap out of it, and listen carefully. The first thing you must do is ring Admiral Summers, Bob Bingham, and Mr. Dixon, and tell them that under no circumstances are they to resign from the board.”

“But they walked out, Seb. Knowles and Mellor won’t give a damn why they did.”

“But I do give a damn, because I only care about the three votes we would sacrifice for the sake of a pointless gesture. If they were to remain on the board, with my vote, yours and Dobbs’s, we’d have six votes to their five.”

“But I won’t be in the chair again until after the trial. Have you forgotten that I stood down?”

“No, you didn’t. You just walked out of the meeting. So you can walk back in again, because if you don’t, you won’t be chairman after the trial, win or lose.”

“You’re a devious individual, Sebastian Clifton.”

“And as long as Mellor and Knowles don’t work that out, we’re still in with a chance. But first, you’ve got three calls to make. Because, believe me, Mellor and Knowles will only ever accept defeat if we win every vote.”