The Deal (27 page)

She left the bedroom and pressed the ‘Do not Disturb’ button.

Dimitri Petraffus spent the next three days in a Harley Street clinic as his private doctors tried to ease his burning pains and to identify the sexual disease they assumed he had contracted. He made several frantic calls to a firm of London lawyers.

Lucy and Charles Harriman were safely back in Ealing and the girls were all asleep. Tabitha was in bed with Scarlett.

“No doubts?” he asked.

“I’m certain, Charles. It gives us a future.”

They had reached a point where neither mentioned the issue of alcohol. She felt that if her husband could stand firm during the abduction of Tabitha it was likely that he would continue to rebuild his life without drink. Their decision to change their way of life was the security they needed for the future.

It was Jonathan who first spotted Sara across the foyer of the Dorchester Hotel. He and Abbi had decided to wait just ten more minutes before calling the police.

He rushed across and caught her as she began to fall. Abbi arrived shortly after and took Sara in her arms. She had now discarded the red wig.

“Get the car, Jonny,” she said.

“I’m ok, Abbi. I’ve got it all on tape.” Sara clung to her friend. They struggled over to the entrance and attracted a number of stares. When Jonathan arrived with his car, Sara slumped on the back seats and they quickly left Mayfair, arriving at Abbi’s flat at one-thirty in the morning. Jonathan took the tapes from Sara and promptly drove off.

Abbi helped Sara into the lift and up to her flat. She took her into the bathroom and switched on the shower. She then helped Sara undress, turned on a powerful hot water spray and soaped her from top to toe, before gently pulling her out of the shower and drying her with two warm towels. She led her to a guest room and helped her into the bed, closing the door behind her.

At eight o’clock the next morning Sara and Abbi were in the kitchen drinking freshly percolated coffee. Jonathan arrived at eight-thirty. He handed Sara two discs.

“The first one, Sara, has everything on it. The second we can listen to now. It’s the one you can play to your colleagues. There are two bits I had to leave in. I’m sorry. I wish I hadn’t but it was the only way to relate Dimitri’s confessions to what you were trying to prove.” He paused. “I’ve destroyed everything else and I’ve forgotten everything I’ve heard. My suggestion is that you throw the first disc into the Thames, but that’s your decision.”

At eleven o’clock Abbi and Sara were sitting in the conference room at Harriman Agnew with the chief executive.

“I think, Abbi, you have some explaining to do. Why is this so urgent?”

“Andrew, I’ll let Sara tell you, but you need to understand that she has made an immense personal sacrifice to get the information you are about to hear.”

Sara took a deep breath. She began by explaining that she had immediately distrusted Dimitri Petraffus, but that Gavin had rejected all her offers to research him. She had obtained information on his background from a private source and discovered that he was a fraudster.

“You can prove this?” asked Andrew.

She said that she could but she’d realised she’d need more if Gavin and Duncan were to be persuaded about the truth of the situation. Sara continued by saying that she also knew that Jody was very supportive of the transaction and, again, she would need extremely strong evidence if she was to prove her case. She explained the plan put together by her and Abbi.

“I’m not able to tell you everything that happened Andrew, but what you are about to hear is a recording I made in Dimitri’s bedroom last night.”

“Is this serious?” asked Andrew.

She switched on the CD player and watched as Andrew listened to the shorter, but equally as devastating, disc. On two occasions Abbi gasped as she realised what Sara had been through.

When the recording ended Andrew sat there saying nothing. After a period of utter silence he asked to listen to it again. Abbi went to the kitchen and made a fresh pot of coffee. Sara sat looking out of the window and watching the traffic on the Thames.

“What,” asked Andrew, “do you think Dimitri will have done when he regained consciousness this morning?”

“I think he’ll have needed to talk to his doctor,” said Sara. She refused to explain why.

Oliver was puzzled by the phone call from Andrew. He was told that they were to meet tomorrow morning in Andrew’s office at eight o’clock. Andrew refused to say why.

He spent Sunday morning at the gym, had lunch with some friends and, by the evening, was feeling utterly miserable. The text message arrived at just after nine o’clock that evening.

“Feeling rather low. A x”

He read and re-read it. He thought about his reply. He was increasingly worried about raising two million pounds for City Fiction.

“We’re being tested, aren’t we? O x”

The reply was immediate.

“No. Not you. Me. I’m so sorry. There were no issues. I just... sorry, Oliver. I’m crying which is not like me. A x”

Oliver groaned and poured himself a scotch. He read her latest text again. This girl most certainly knew how to play on his heart strings.

“I’ll be joining you if I don’t raise £2m. O x”

He thought that she wasn’t going to reply. He waited for twenty-two minutes before the bell rang out from his phone. His heart skipped a beat.

“I just want to share everything with you. A x”

He responded immediately.

“You do have mood swings, don’t you? O x”

The reply came within seconds.

“Guilty. A x”

Chapter Ten

Sara was dressed in a dark blue top and knee-length skirt, a more conservative look than usual. Her hair was swept across her face and she wore very little make-up.

“His real name...”

“I don’t care a fuck what his real name is supposed to be!” shouted Gavin. “Andrew, how come this bloody woman has got us all in here? We have a huge week ahead and we’re going to raise ten mil and make ourselves a lot of fucking dough. Got that, you little shit? Now shut the fuck up.”

Melanie was the first to react to the outburst.

“Gavin,” she advised. “I met with Andrew an hour ago. Take my advice and listen carefully to Sara.”

“To that fucking skinny little... who fucking employed her anyway?”

He stopped speaking because Martin had left his chair and had his left arm around Gavin’s neck. He was whispering in his ear. The room went silent.

Andrew asked Sara to re-commence her report.

“His real name is Sergei Villich Andropov. Dimitri Petraffus is an alias he has been using for the last three years. He does own the mine at Donetskii but he is heavily in debt and is said to be involved in arms shipments into the Ukraine. If we had raised him the ten million pounds it’s suspected that he would have negotiated another weapons deal with the Somali pirates based in North East Africa.

“He was born in Eastern Russia and joined the army at an early age. During the military conflict in Afghanistan he was accused of raping three women and discharged from the army. For the past three years he has used the mining business as a front. He has money but he generally uses violence to achieve his aims.”

“Prove it,” snarled Gavin.

“I realised that it would be difficult to convince you of the truth. Dimitri – let’s call him that for now – is clever. He has all the paperwork and my suspicion – and it’s a trick he’s pulled before – is that if we had withdrawn from the deal, say because Melanie was unhappy with the directors’ documentation, he would have sued us. His lawyers usually win. We would have had to call on our professional indemnity insurance and put a report in to the regulators. Usually he allows the firms he sues to survive but it’s expensive and disruptive.”

“Prove it,” repeated Gavin.

“My sources are reliable,” continued Sara. “In fact, one is particularly helpful, but to get the information I had to give my word that I would not release the photocopy documentation I was given.”

“I knew it – you can’t. Meeting over,” announced Gavin.

“The easy thing about you, Gavin, is that you are so wholly and pathetically predictable,” said Sara. “I knew that however certain I was you would dismiss my findings. So last night I took the precaution of spending the evening with Dimitri in his bedroom.”

“Ha! She’s nothing but a cheap slut!” shouted Gavin, looking around him, his face contorted in a grin of pure malice.

“Sit down,” said Andrew, as Martin stood up. “Sara, please continue.”

“I tape-recorded what he said. I used my mobile and two separate machines. I have two discs. One captures the whole evening and I’ll only allow that to be replayed under special conditions. The one I’m going to play you has been put together by an IT expert. He will swear an affidavit if necessary. It captures what Dimitri said about the mining transaction.”

“Who’s this ‘expert’ you refer to?” asked Duncan.

“Jonathan, my partner,” said Abbi. There were looks of surprise around the table.

“Are you involved in this too?” asked Duncan.

“Jonathan and I were with Sara last night at the Dorchester. I think you should listen to the recording.”

Sara pressed a button and for the next twenty minutes the voice of Dimitri Petraffus filled the room. Jonathan had found it difficult to extract his words alone and occasionally the circumstances under which the recording had been made became all too clear. As Duncan listened to the revelations about his trip to Russia he looked extremely agitated, but the air seemed to go out of him suddenly. He’d refused the girl and the money. Melanie sighed with relief on hearing this passage. She liked Duncan. He’d tried hard to see all the mines.

As the recording reached its climax and Sara was desperately trying to find out the truth about the scam, her agonies became all too obvious. She just stared ahead. The disc came to an end.

Andrew looked at Gavin.

“Gavin. You are suspended on full pay. Go home. I’ll call for you in a few days. You are to make a full statement and email it to Melanie by twelve noon tomorrow.”

“Go fuck yourself, you pathetic wimp!” Gavin yelled at Andrew. “You let all this happen! I walked all over you. Do you think I want to stay with this load of crap? I already have another job. I was going anyway. Two weeks’ time I will be with...” He named a broker in the East End of London which – unbeknownst to him – was already under investigation by the FSA.

Gavin left the room.

“He has forgotten that I’ll have to put in a report to the FSA,” said Melanie. “He may find getting a transfer of his registration more difficult than he thinks.”

“I suspect Gavin is heading for different waters.” It was the first time Oliver had spoken.

Andrew now took charge. Melanie agreed on the work necessary to meet all the compliance issues and agreed that her full report should include the name of the London solicitors at the heart of the scam. Jody was asked to provide a financial analysis of the costs involved, including Gavin’s severance package.

“He gets paid for being a total shit!” exclaimed Sara suddenly.

“That’s the way it works,” replied Jody. The room went quiet.

“So what happens now?” asked Abbi.

“I suggest we raise two million pounds for City Fiction,” replied Oliver.

“I’ve been fighting alcohol for some years,” said Charles.

Andrew sat opposite his partner in the lounge of his Mayfair club. He wondered if he should continue with his gin and tonic.

“I stopped about eight weeks ago. My family are behind me. When Tabitha was stolen I reached rock bottom and nearly gave in. You know that Lucy’s a doctor. She’s spoken to a consultant on my behalf. He’s told her it’s likely that I’ll have to fight it for the rest of my life.”

“Do you want to fight it, Charles?”

“When we lost Tabitha, in a strange way, I found out a few things. What really matters. That’s what I want to talk to you about. The consultant said I can help myself by avoiding stress. Lucy and I independently reached a similar conclusion. Lucy is pregnant, by the way. She’s going to return as a full-time doctor. Under Lansley’s health reforms, her earnings are expected to exceed two hundred thousand pounds a year. She’ll take eight weeks off for the baby. I’m going to become a house father. My career in the City is over, Andrew.”

“Well, in that case… we have a conundrum, Charles,” said Andrew.

“Conundrum?” asked Charles. “It’s pretty clear to me. I want you to buy me out.”

“And that’s the issue, Charles. Rachel’s father died last year. We knew he was financially astute but we recently had the full valuation of his estate. He picked the right dot-com stocks and stayed with them. Rachel will inherit around seven million pounds. We’ve decided to live in Hong Kong. Bloody Cameron. He’s ruining this country with his liberal pals. We’re off.”

Andrew then updated Charles on recent events at Harriman Agnew Capital.

“If I’m honest with myself I’ve not dealt with events too well. I’ve allowed Gavin to run riot.” He looked at Charles. “After all these years I’m still dazzled by the money.” He smiled ruefully.

“I had a feeling you were leaving us, Charles, so I’ve invited Oliver to join us.” Andrew explained the basis of his proposed offer to Oliver, which Charles supported immediately. It would mean that he and Lucy would have financial security.

On cue, Oliver had entered the club and was shown over to where his two bosses were sitting. He was provided with a scotch and water. He listened in total amazement.

“So there it is, Oliver. We are offering you the opportunity to complete a management buy-out of the firm. The price is three million pounds. Charles and I each get half a million now and the balance is interest free and payable as fifteen percent of post-tax profits until the debt is cleared. We’ll both sign subordinated loan forms so that this does not impact your capital adequacy requirements. We must keep the FSA happy. This is the name and number of a London banker who’ll back you. You’ll have to sell yourself to her but the facility is agreed.”