Deadly Business

Fifteen

The bomb was dropped next morning, as I’d known it would be. Cress rang me in the office at five to ten, but I knew all about it by then, for I’d been monitoring the Stock Exchange website on the computer in what had been Susie’s office and was now, however reluctantly on my part, mine, and had read the announcement at the moment it was made.

A takeover bid had been lodged by Torrent PLC for the Gantry Group PLC. It valued the company at thirty-five million pounds, a couple of million above its quoted valuation based in the morning’s share price, but around a third of its real worth. Fifteen million of the offer price came from Torrent’s own cash pile; the other twenty mil would be funded by a new share issue, already underwritten by a consortium headed by, you guessed it, Mr Diego Fabricant.

‘The bastards!’ I shouted, as I took Cress’s call. ‘They’re going to use our own money to buy us. You can bet that the twenty million will be diverted from the Babylon Links account.’

Of course, there was even worse. The announcement had concluded by saying that Torrent PLC had already secured acceptance of its offer by a representative of holders of more than fifty per cent of the Gantry equity. Duncan Culshaw, Mr fucking Murdstone, had committed Janet and wee Jonathan’s inherited shareholding to seal the deal.

‘What you said yesterday, Primavera,’ Cress sighed, ‘you were right. It is the end. But why?’

‘I believe it’s the culmination of a vendetta, but I won’t know until I’ve talked to the bitch who’s behind it.’

‘Does it relate to that image you sent me yesterday?’

‘Indeed,’ I snorted. ‘Very much so.’

‘Who were those people? How did you get it? Who took it?’

‘She’s Natalie Morgan and he’s Duncan Culshaw. It looks like they’ve met before, doesn’t it? My boyfriend took it. Duncan visited Susie’s lawyer yesterday, to confirm his position under the will as the children’s guardian and administrator. I found out about it and asked Liam to follow him to see where he went. That’s where he led us.’

‘Do you want me to leak it? The trouble is, it wouldn’t mean anything outside Scotland, and even there …’

‘I know,’ I said. ‘Investors don’t read the sort of paper that would publish it. No, don’t do anything with it. Common sense tells me this is the time to stay on the moral high ground, even if it means smiling as we mount the scaffold.’

‘What are you going to do?’ she asked.

I’d been giving that some thought. ‘I believe that I have a duty to call an emergency board meeting. I can do that right away, and I will. Gerry Meek’s here, I can ask Phil Culshaw to come in, and Audrey can sit in on the internet. We’ll have to consider the offer formally and make a recommendation … not that it’ll make any difference, by the looks of it. What about the minority shareholders? Given your experience, how do you think they’ll react?’

‘Normally I’d expect them to cut their losses and accept. But you’ll have a decision to make yourself, won’t you, for your son?’

‘No I won’t,’ I replied, firmly. ‘I’ll explain the situation to him. With what Susie left him, he now owns twenty-six per cent of the Gantry shares. He can’t be forced to sell, and if he doesn’t want to, I won’t make him. Liam, my partner, has a few shares as well; I can see him staying in there if only to make a nuisance of himself at the annual meeting. Thanks, Cress,’ I concluded. ‘I’ll be back in touch after the board meeting. We’ll have to issue a formal reaction. Cheers for now.’

I hung up, then called Phil. He was up to speed with the news and he hadn’t been surprised either. He knew what had to be done as well as, if not better, than I did. I set the meeting for eleven, giving him plenty of time to get to the office, then had a similar discussion with Gerry Meek, and asked Wylie to join us as well.

When I returned to my room, I had a call waiting. It was from a man I’d never heard of, but that didn’t stop him being rather pissed off.

‘Mrs Blackstone,’ he began, in an accent that could have come straight from the oil barons’ club in Houston, ‘my name is Buddy Beaujean. I used to be a friend of Miles Grayson, until he persuaded me yesterday to invest eight million sterling in your company. I did that on his say-so, because he said you were a chance worth taking and now I find that my stake’s worth five million and I’ve pretty much got to settle for that. I’ve tried to contact Miles to thank him personally for his helpful advice, but he’s gone to ground, or maybe to Mexico, which is much the same thing. So you hear from him, you tell him, Buddy says thanks, but don’t be givin’ me any more hot stock tips.’

‘I thought you Texans had balls,’ I retorted.

‘Say what?’ he exclaimed.

‘You heard me. You haven’t even asked what I have to say about it, yet you’re in the bloody lifeboat rowing for shore as hard as you can.’

‘Indeed?’ he drawled. ‘So tell me, ma’am. What are you going to do to make forty-eight per cent worth more than fifty-two?’

‘I don’t know yet, but I’m working on it.’ The guy had riled me; I let him have it. ‘Fuck it,’ I snapped. ‘Guys like you don’t invest money they can’t afford to lose, not at the sort of notice you did yesterday. Okay, run out on me and you’ll only lose three million; stay and you’ll either find you lose most of what’s left, or you’ll make a decent profit at the end of the day.’

‘Do you have any idea how you’re going to bring that about?’ He was curious, and his accent was suddenly less cowboy.

‘At this moment,’ I replied, ‘not a single one, but there’s this. The guy I was married to for a while, and whose name I still use, we had several things in common, but the greatest was this. We were both inexplicably, but invariably, blessed with the most extraordinarily good luck. You’re a gambler, or you wouldn’t have invested in me. So, Buddy, stick with me now.’

I didn’t give him a chance to come back. Instead I slammed the phone down and left him to think about it.

Pure bravado, pure bullshit, ancient history. I didn’t have a single card in my hand and I knew it. Well, no, maybe I had one. I would find the best family lawyer I could and instruct the implementation of Susie’s wishes about the children’s trust. I was sure that my power of attorney had ended with Susie’s death and Greg McPhillips becoming her executor, but my talk with him had left me with a candle flame of hope that the court might respect her clear wish.

It took one phone call to blow it out. I caught Harvey January on his mobile, in a break between court sessions, and explained the situation. He was appalled by what had happened, and outraged that his niece and nephew were being manipulated, but that didn’t override his legal instincts.

‘You could try it,’ he said, ‘but if it came before me, I’d probably rule against you. Even if you did win a couple of rounds, it would be appealed all the way up to the Supreme Court in London, and meantime the existing guardian’s rights would continue to be exercised.’

‘Even if there’s been fraud?’

‘If you could prove fraud, that would affect the situation, but you’re right. These people have been clever, so you never will, or not unless the law of Jersey is changed, and don’t look for that to happen in a hurry. Sorry, Primavera. Barring miracles, we’ve had it. I say “we”, because I’m as angry about this as you are, but if no law’s been broken … well, we’re down to Divine intervention.’

I thanked him, hung up, leaned back in Susie’s chair and stared at the ceiling. That’s what I was doing when God walked into the room.

‘Miles,’ I gasped, amazed, as he stepped through the doorway. ‘What the hell are you doing here, and how did you get here?’

‘On my jet, of course. This couldn’t wait for normal scheduled.’ He grinned from ear to ear. ‘Sister-in-law,’ he laughed, ‘some things are so good that they have to be done face to face.’