Mightier Than the Sword Read online

  “Ralph, it’s Adrian Sloane.”

  “I thought it might be,” said Vaughan, checking his watch. “You’ll be pleased to hear that no one has called about Shifnal Farm all day. So with just fifteen minutes to go, I think it’s safe to assume the property is yours. I’ll give you a call just after five, so we can discuss how you want to deal with the paperwork.”

  “That’s fine by me,” said Sloane, “but don’t be surprised if my line’s engaged when you call, because I’m currently involved in a deal that’s even bigger than Shifnal Farm.”

  “But if someone was to make a bid between now and five—”

  “That isn’t going to happen,” said Sloane. “Just make sure you send the contract round to Farthings first thing on Monday morning. There’ll be a check waiting for you.”

  * * *

  “It’s ten to five,” said Vic.

  “Patience, child,” said the old man. “There is only one thing that matters when you’re trying to close a deal. Timing.” He leaned back and closed his eyes, although he was wide awake. He had told his secretary that under no circumstances was he to be disturbed between ten to five and ten past. Neither Vic nor Seb said another word.

  Suddenly Saul’s eyes opened and he sat bolt upright. He checked that the two phones on his desk were placed exactly where he wanted them. At six minutes to five, he leaned forward and picked up the black phone. He dialed the number of an estate agent in Mayfair, and asked to speak to the senior partner.

  “Mr. Kaufman, this is an unexpected pleasure,” said Vaughan. “How can I help you?”

  “You can start by telling me the time, Mr. Vaughan.”

  “I make it five to five,” said a puzzled voice. “Why do you ask?”

  “Because I wanted to be sure that you’re still open for bids on Shifnal Farm in Shropshire.”

  “We most certainly are. But I must warn you that we already have an offer of one point six million pounds from another bank.”

  “Then I bid one million, six hundred and ten thousand.”

  “Thank you, sir,” said Vaughan.

  “And what time do you make it now?”

  “Three minutes to five.”

  “Please hold on, Mr. Vaughan, there’s someone on the other line. I’ll only be a moment.” Kaufman placed the black receiver on his desk, picked up the red one and dialed a number.

  After three rings a voice said, “Adrian Sloane.”

  “Mr. Sloane, I’m calling back about the Nigerian oil bonds your bank is offering to selected investors. As I said earlier, it sounds a most exciting opportunity. What is the maximum amount that you’ll allow any one institution to invest?”

  “Two million pounds, Mr. Kaufman. I’d offer you more, but the majority of the shares have already been taken up.”

  “Can you just hold on while I consult one of my colleagues?”

  “Of course, Mr. Kaufman.”

  Saul placed the red phone back on his desk and picked up the black one. “I’m sorry to have kept you waiting, Mr. Vaughan, but I must ask you once again, what time do you make it?”

  “One minute to five.”

  “Excellent. Would you now be kind enough to open your office door?”

  Kaufman put the black receiver back down on his desk and picked up the red one. “My colleague is asking, if we were to invest the full two million, would that entitle us to a place on the board of the new company?”

  “Most certainly,” said Sloane. “In fact, I could offer you two places, as you would own ten percent of the stock.”

  “Allow me to consult my colleague again.” The red phone was placed back on the desk, and Kaufman picked up the black one.

  “What did you find when you opened the door, Mr. Vaughan?”

  “A messenger handed me an envelope containing a banker’s draft for one hundred and sixty-one thousand pounds.”

  “The ten percent required to close the transaction. What time do you make it now, Mr. Vaughan?”

  “Two minutes past five.”

  “Then the deal is closed. And as long as I pay the remaining ninety percent within thirty days, Shifnal Farm is mine.”

  “It most certainly is,” said Vaughan, unwilling to admit how much he was looking forward to telling Sloane that he’d lost the deal.

  “Have a good weekend,” said Kaufman as he placed the black phone back on its cradle and returned to the red one.

  “Mr. Sloane, I want to invest two million pounds in this most exciting project.” Kaufman wished he could see the look on Sloane’s face. “But unfortunately I couldn’t get my colleagues to agree with me, so sadly I’ll have to withdraw my offer. As you assured me the majority of the shares have already been taken up, I don’t suppose that will cause you too much of a problem.”

  14

  SEBASTIAN DIDN’T TELL Samantha the tactics Mr. Kaufman had resorted to in order to close the Shifnal Farm deal, because he knew she wouldn’t approve, even though it was Sloane who’d lost out. What he did tell her was that Kaufman had offered him a job.

  “But I thought his bank didn’t have a property division.”

  “It does now,” said Seb. “He’s asked me to set up my own department. Small transactions to begin with, but with a view to expanding, if I prove myself.”

  “That’s wonderful news,” said Sam, giving him a hug.

  “And it shouldn’t be too difficult to pick up good staff, since Sloane’s sacked my entire team, not to mention several others who’ve resigned, including Rachel.”

  “Rachel?”

  “She used to be Cedric’s secretary, but she only lasted a week under the new regime. I’ve asked her to join me. We start on Monday with a clean sheet. Well, not exactly a clean sheet, because Sloane sacked my assistant, and ordered him to remove everything from the office that even hinted of me, so he gathered up all the files I was working on, walked across to Cheapside, and handed them to me.”

  “Is that legal?”

  “Who gives a damn, when Sloane’s never going to find out?”

  “Farthings Bank is not just Adrian Sloane, and you still have an obligation to it.”

  “After the way Sloane treated me?”

  “No, after the way Cedric treated you.”

  “But that doesn’t apply to Shifnal Farm, because Sloane was working behind Cedric’s back on that deal.”

  “And now you’re working behind his.”

  “You bet I am, if it’s going to make it possible for us to buy a flat in Chelsea.”

  “We shouldn’t be thinking about buying anything until you’ve paid off all your debts.”

  “Mr. Kaufman has promised me a forty-thousand-pound bonus when the government makes its announcement, so I won’t have any debts then.”

  “If the government makes an announcement,” said Sam. “Don’t start spending the money before you’ve got it. And even if you do pull the deal off, you’ll still owe Mr. Swann over eight thousand pounds, so perhaps we ought not to be thinking about moving quite yet.”

  That was something else Seb decided he wasn’t going to tell Sam about.

  * * *

  Seb spent the next few weeks working hours that would have impressed even Cedric and, with the help of Rachel and his old team from Farthings, they were up and running far more quickly than Mr. Kaufman would have thought possible.

  Seb wasn’t satisfied with just being reunited with his old customers, but like a marauding pirate he began to plunder several of Farthings’ other clients, convincing himself that it was no more than Sloane deserved.

  It was about three months after he’d begun working at Kaufman’s that the chairman called him into his office.

  “Did you read the Financial Times this morning?” he said, even before Seb had closed the door.

  “Only the front page and the property section. Why?”

  “Because we’re about to find out if Mr. Swann’s prediction is correct.” Seb didn’t interrupt Kaufman’s flow. “It seems the transport minister wil