The Best of British Crime omnibus (43 page)

‘Who has made these suggestions?'

‘They've been made to the team at Grenwood, Phipps who handled the flotation. If they're right, that you arranged a Concert Party in Closter shares, you could be in deep trouble with the Securities and Investments Board in London. You already have a problem explaining to them why you've broken your earlier assurance. That your original holding was no more than a prudent investment, not the down payment on a takeover bid.'

‘I know nothing of the arrangement with your SIB. Such detail would be in the hands of our Finance and Legal Divisions. They are very efficient. Very proper.'

‘I see.' It was Treasure's turn to smile. ‘Such matters are sometimes too complicated to sort out quickly, of course. In any case they're not my concern at the moment.' He drank some coffee before continuing. ‘The sale of shares by Closter directors yesterday could have produced a very attractive situation for buyers who knew what was happening.'

‘Except there were no such buyers around, Mr Treasure. I believe the price went on falling all day.'

‘On the assumption that something was wrong with the company. That the development drug Seromig was a failure,'

‘Something had to account for your directors' action.'

‘But Krontag knew better?'

‘We were advised that the directors were selling their shares because they needed money. That it was nothing more than that.'

‘All the directors?'

Fritzoller shrugged. ‘That was our information.'

‘But you didn't start to buy until eight o' clock? After other substantial shareholders had panicked. They had also unloaded a huge volume of shares, so the price was at rock bottom.'

‘Our advisers watched the market carefully. We bought when it seemed prudent.' For someone who had affected earlier not to be familiar with the detail of Krontag's acquisition activities, the doctor was doing remarkably well.

‘You were aware there was nothing wrong with Seromig?'

‘We've followed the development of the drug.'

‘You mean you've been conducting your own trials with our patented formula and come up with the same results as we have? Very wise. To understand what you're aiming to buy.'

‘Such practices are common and quite legal.'

‘Agreed. Krontag have certainly made a coup. We estimate that you bought approximately twenty million Closter shares yesterday at an average price of sixty pence. That's a saving of twelve million pounds on the market price of the previous day.'

‘We are offering to pay one pound twenty-five each for the rest of the shares.'

‘You'd have had to offer a damned sight more than that for them, and for the ones you bought yesterday, if the Closter directors hadn't sold and started a run.'

‘All that is obvious perhaps, Mr Treasure?'

‘So obvious that you signed that letter to me possibly on Monday, post-dated for yesterday? That was not so much recognising the obvious as being incredibly prescient.'

‘I didn't say I signed the letter on Monday.'

‘If there's an enquiry, you may need to be able to prove exactly when you did sign it, Doctor. Also when it was delivered to Schenlau, your London bankers, and by whom.'

‘But how could the letter matter that much? And how could we have known beforehand that the Closter directors would be selling?'

‘That's certainly the question you're going to be asked, Doctor. They received instructions from someone about selling on Monday. They actually did sell yesterday. Under duress.'

‘Under duress? How is this possible?'

‘Because one of them was kidnapped. His name is Dermot Hackle.'

‘Kidnapped?' The doctor shook his head in what seemed evident bewilderment. ‘I don't understand. You mean he is held a prisoner?'

‘Since some time last Sunday. The other directors have sold their shares to save his life. The single beneficiary of that action has been Krontag.'

Fritzoller looked suddenly much older. For a moment he said nothing, only clasped and unclasped the big hands in front of him. ‘How can Krontag be the beneficiary?'

‘Isn't that obvious?'

‘But it is something quite separate. A coincidence?' The eyes narrowed. ‘Also the kidnappers will receive some ransom, no?'

‘The nearest thing to a ransom has been the twelve million pound saving made by Krontag on the purchase of Closter shares yesterday.'

‘And the police know of the kidnapping?'

‘Not yet.'

The eyes and the face muscles evinced some relief. ‘But you've told your security advisers?'

‘We've told no one for fear of reprisals. The kidnappers are animal rights fanatics. They call themselves the Stop Animal Experiments group. SAE for short. Have you heard of them?'

‘Never.'

‘Neither had anyone else until very recently. They're an undercover action group, unknown to regular organisations in the same field. But they claim to have informers everywhere. They could even have them inside Krontag.'

‘You believe this?'

‘So far we haven't dared not to. Hackle has a wife and two young children.'

‘It's not possible that they have informers here.' The voice held solid conviction.

‘On the contrary, whoever's been advising you over Closter must be in the confidence of the SAE. There's no other logical explanation for what's been happening. When everything's disclosed to the police it's inevitable their enquiries will start right here, at Krontag. They'll have no better lead to work on.'

‘But that would be unthinkable, Mr Treasure. Unjust. My company is not involved in criminal activities. Not possibly. The accusation you speak about … the scandal that would follow, it would be unfair and an outrage.' But it was the word scandal that had been given the most emphasis. The agitation Fritzoller was showing was a natural enough reaction from the head of a major entity in a sensitive industry.

Treasure built on his advantage. ‘I'm afraid a scandal looks unavoidable,' he said.

‘So when are you telling the police?'

‘I'd say as soon as Hackle is released. That's supposed to be on Friday evening.' He paused. ‘I ought to tell you that the SAE intend the kidnap should never be disclosed. If it is, they threaten to hurt the families of Closter directors. For that reason, we may just hold back on telling anyone for a short while. Until we've completed protection arrangements.'

‘But can you protect people against what you call fanatics?'

‘I believe we have to give the authorities the chance to catch those fanatics. Before they try the same trick again. Most of the Closter directors agree with me. If we didn't tell the police it would let Krontag off the hook, of course. But only temporarily. A crime as big as this one can never be hushed up for ever. Too many people know about it already. Including you now, Doctor.'

Fritzoller took a deep breath. ‘Krontag is involved in no crime, Mr Treasure. Not possibly. We have been advised throughout in the Closter Drug matter by outside consultants. They are completely independent of this company.'

Fritzoller was running for cover, and both men knew it.

‘I believe you,' said Treasure quietly. ‘That's why I'm here. I need the name of the consultants.'

‘That may not be possible.

‘The name of the consultants,' Treasure repeated, ‘in exchange for my word that I will never disclose to anyone how I got it, without your permission. You must in turn promise me to tell no one about the kidnap. No one. Not until we are ready to inform the police.' He paused, holding Fritzoller with a purposeful stare. ‘Our common intention to co-operate ought to be on record from this moment, don't you think, Doctor?'

To avoid giving notice of his arrival, Treasure paid off the taxi in Hirschengraben, just before the corner with Hendrickstrasse.

Number Two, Hendrickstrasse was clearly identified some yards down the other street, on the far side. The Gothic number was inscribed on oval white enamel plaques on both the gateless gateposts. It was a substantial house, in grey rendering, with grey painted shutters to all the windows. The building was set back behind a low wall in the once residential road of overall grey edifices designed in the heavily gabled, old Swiss-German manner. Few of the windows in the houses were curtained, which suggested that most of the properties had been turned over to offices: Hendrickstrasse was close to the centre of Zürich. There were few garages, but cars were squeezed into the paved forecourts of the houses, as well as parked along both sides of the street.

The substantial front door of Number Two was painted the same drab grey as the rest of the house, but it was enlivened with polished brass fitments. It stood at the top of four stone steps and was sheltered by a heavy protruding lintel with bold scroll supports. A telephone entry system offered the names of four tenants in a glass-framed, neatly lettered directory. The names were all business titles, but Lybred and Greet AG, the one supplied by Willy Fritzoller, was not amongst them. Discouraged, Treasure turned about and descended to the basement, down steep, mean steps.

The shutters to the two basement windows were tightly closed. They faced on to a narrow area with barely two feet of space between them and the retaining wall of the forecourt above. The windows behind the shutters could not have provided much light to the interior. Even so, if there was anyone inside, the shutters would surely have been opened.

The sudden loud clatter from behind him startled the visitor. He swung about involuntarily as something fast-moving brushed past his legs. It was a black and white cat that had leaped sideways off the lid of a dustbin where it had probably been sleeping. The lid had shifted and toppled to reveal a clean but significantly empty bin. The cat stopped at the top of the steps and settled there, observing the intruder with a reproachful, unblinking stare.

The basement door was directly under the steps to the main door above, its menial appearance in this way shrouded from the street. It had no fittings, brass or otherwise, except for a small and palpably inadequate vertical letterbox. A fat envelope, decorated with coloured advertising material, lay on the doorstep evidently because it had been too bulky to go through the letterbox. Just as clearly, the package had been lying where it was now for some time.

The prospect that Lybred or Greet were either of them inside was beginning to seem more than just remote.

There was a bell push to one side of the door, set under a metal frame of the size to hold a visiting card. But the frame was empty. Treasure pressed the bell. A strangled but still encouraging ring sounded from inside. The caller waited, going over in his mind the encounter that had brought him to Hendrickstrasse.

Once Dr Fritzoller had been persuaded to do what Treasure asked, the older man had acted with speed and, it had seemed at the time, with efficiency. He had been outraged at the prospect of his company being involved as an accomplice to a kidnap – or as an apparent beneficiary at the end of one. If Treasure's story was true, and, in view of the source, the doctor accepted it had to be, the chances of eliminating such possibilities seemed slim. But Fritzoller calculated that the size of any scandal could be measurably reduced if he co-operated. Further, the banker had made promises that were definitely dependent on the two men acting together now. That both saw good reason for not bringing in the police at this point had improved the sense of interdependence.

So Fritzoller had parted with information that the predator company in a hostile takeover bid would not normally have divulged. And he did it without reference to anyone. This was as much because Fritzoller was at heart an autocrat as because Treasure had insisted that Hackle's life could depend on their exchanges remaining confidential. The only other person involved had been Fritzoller's private secretary, a comely, middle-aged lady of conservative appearance who had quickly come in with a single thickish file in response to her employer's telephoned order.

‘Lybred and Greet is the name of the merger and acquisition consultants we have used to handle the takeover of Closter,' Fritzoller had announced.

‘Retained on fee or commission?'

‘Fee only.'

‘In two parts?'

‘Yes. A substantial advance, and …' He had hesitated.

‘And an even more substantial final payment. But only after the successful completion of the takeover?'

‘Precisely, Mr Treasure. Please don't press me on the actual numbers involved. Without legal advice I don't believe I should give you those.'

‘Understood and accepted. Can you tell me who approached whom in the first place?'

‘Yes. Lybred and Greet approached us. They were a new firm, with experienced principals, specialising in the merger of pharmaceutical companies. Their headquarters are in New Jersey. There's a small subsidiary European company registered here in Zürich.'

The Krontag Chairman had not personally met either Hans Lybred or Helga Greet, the principals. He had emphasised this by repeating the disclaimer several times. Lybred and Greet had never been used by Krontag before, nor had they come through recommendation – nor, Treasure ruminated as he stared at the basement door, was it likely that anyone from Krontag had ever visited their Zürich office. Simply, Hans Lybred had impressed Dieter Grubber, the Krontag International President, with his inside knowledge of Closter Drug and with the assurance that he had access to much more of the same.

Certainly the file that Fritzoller had referred to constantly, through the rest of the encounter with Treasure, had subsequently yielded a great deal more information on Closter Drug than it had on Lybred and Greet.

Of course, the Krontag directors had been well aware that Closter had a potentially important new drug in Seromig. The information had been common knowledge for years. But Lybred and Greet had produced copies of confidential clinical reports they claimed had not yet been shown to anyone else outside Closter. The reports in the file were authentic copies all right: Treasure was well aware that they confirmed the astonishing efficacy of Seromig.