Be Careful What You Wish For (The Clifton Chronicles) Read online

  “Is this the man none of us knows, but who hates Martinez as much as we do?” asked Harry.

  Arnold Hardcastle put a hand on his father’s arm and whispered, “Don’t answer that question, Pop.”

  “Even if you pull it off,” said Emma, “I’ll still have to explain to the press and the shareholders at the AGM a week later why the share price has collapsed.”

  “Not if I return to the market the moment Martinez’s shares have been picked up, and start buying aggressively, only stopping when the price has returned to its present level.”

  “But you told us that was against the law.”

  “When I said ‘I,’ what I meant was—”

  “Don’t say another word, Pop,” said Arnold firmly.

  “But if Martinez was to discover what you were up to…” began Emma.

  “We won’t let him,” said Cedric, “because we’re all going to work to his timetable, as Seb will now explain.”

  Sebastian rose from his place, and faced the toughest first-night audience in the West End. “Martinez plans to travel up to Scotland at the weekend for some grouse-shooting, and he won’t be returning to London until Tuesday morning.”

  “How can you be so sure, Seb?” asked his father.

  “Because his entire art collection is coming up for sale at Agnew’s on the Monday night, and he’s told the proprietor of the gallery that he can’t attend, as he won’t be back in London by then.”

  “I find it strange,” said Emma, “that he doesn’t want to be around on the day he’s getting rid of all his shares in the company, and selling his art collection.”

  “That’s easy to explain,” said Cedric. “If Barrington’s looks as if it’s in trouble, he will want to be as far away as possible, preferably somewhere where no one will be able to contact him, leaving you to handle the baying press and the irate shareholders.”

  “Do we know where he’ll be staying in Scotland?” asked Giles.

  “Not at the moment,” said Cedric, “but I called Ross Buchanan last night. He’s a first-class shot himself, and tells me there are only about six hotels and shooting lodges north of the border that Martinez would consider good enough for him to celebrate the glorious twelfth. Ross is going to spend the next couple of days visiting all of them until he discovers which one Martinez is booked into.”

  “Is there anything the rest of us can do to help?” asked Harry.

  “Just act normally. Especially you, Emma. You must appear to be preparing for the AGM and the launching of the Buckingham. Leave Seb and me to fine-tune the rest of the operation.”

  “But even if you did manage to pull off the share coup,” said Giles, “that still wouldn’t solve the problem of Fisher’s resignation.”

  “I’ve already set a plan in motion for dealing with Fisher.”

  Everyone waited expectantly.

  “You’re not going to tell us what you’re up to, are you?” said Emma eventually.

  “No,” replied Cedric. “My lawyer,” he added, touching his son’s arm, “has advised against it.”

  32

  Tuesday afternoon

  CEDRIC PICKED UP the phone on his desk, and immediately recognized the slight Scottish burr.

  “Martinez is booked into Glenleven Lodge, from Friday the fourteenth of August until Monday the seventeenth.”

  “That sounds a long way away.”

  “It’s in the middle of nowhere.”

  “What else did you find out?”

  “He and his two sons visit Glenleven twice a year, in March and August. They always book the same three rooms on the second floor, and they eat all their meals in Don Pedro’s suite, never in the dining room.”

  “Did you find out when they’re expected?”

  “Aye. They’ll be catching the sleeper to Edinburgh this Thursday evening, and will be picked up by the hotel driver around five thirty the following morning, and driven straight to Glenleven in time for breakfast. Martinez likes kippers, brown toast and English marmalade.”

  “I’m impressed. How long did all that take you?”

  “Over three hundred miles of driving through the Highlands, and checking several hotels and lodges. After a few drams in the bar at Glenleven, I even knew what his favorite cocktail is.”

  “So with a bit of luck I’ll have a clear run from the moment they’re picked up by the lodge’s driver on Friday morning, until they arrive back in London the following Tuesday evening.”

  “Unless something unforeseen happens.”

  “It always does, and there’s no reason to believe it will be any different this time.”

  “I’m sure you’re right,” said Ross. “Which is why I’ll be at Waverley station on Friday morning, and as soon as the three of them set off for Glenleven, I’ll phone you. Then all you’ll have to do is wait for the Stock Exchange to open at nine o’clock, when you can start trading.”

  “Will you be returning to Glenleven?”

  “Yes, I’ve booked a room at the lodge, but Jean and I won’t be checking in until some time on Friday afternoon, for what I hope will be a quiet weekend in the Highlands. I’ll only ring you if an emergency arises. Otherwise you won’t hear from me again until Tuesday morning, and only then after I’ve seen the three of them boarding the train back to London.”

  “By which time it will be too late for Martinez to do anything about it.”

  “Well, that’s Plan A.”

  Wednesday morning

  “Let’s just, for a moment, consider what could go wrong,” said Diego, looking across at his father.

  “What do you have in mind?” asked Don Pedro.

  “The other side have somehow worked out what we’re up to, and are just waiting for us to be holed up in Scotland so they can take advantage of your absence.”

  “But we’ve always kept everything in the family,” said Luis.

  “Ledbury isn’t family, and he knows we’re selling our shares on Monday morning. Fisher isn’t family, and he’ll feel no obligation to us once he’s handed in his letter of resignation.”

  “Are you sure you’re not overreacting?” said Don Pedro.

  “Possibly. But I’d still prefer to join you in Glenleven a day later. That way I’ll know the price of Barrington’s shares when the market closes on Friday evening. If they’re still above the price we originally paid for them, I’ll feel more relaxed about putting more than a million of our shares on the market on Monday morning.”

  “You’ll miss a day’s shooting.”

  “That’s preferable to two million pounds going missing.”

  “Fair enough. I’ll have the driver pick you up from Waverley station first thing on Saturday morning.”

  “Why don’t we cover all our options,” said Diego, “and make sure no one is double-crossing us?”

  “So what do you suggest?”

  “Phone the bank and tell Ledbury you’ve changed your mind, and you won’t be selling the shares on Monday after all.”

  “But I have no choice if my plan is to have any chance of succeeding.”

  “We’ll still sell the shares. I’ll place the order with another broker just before I leave for Scotland on Friday evening, and only if the shares have maintained their value. That way we can’t lose.”

  Thursday morning

  Tom parked the Daimler outside Agnew’s in Bond Street.

  Cedric had given Sebastian an hour off to collect Jessica’s pictures, and had even allowed him the use of his car so that he could get back to the office quickly. He almost ran into the gallery.

  “Good morning, sir.”

  “‘Good morning, sir’? Aren’t you the lady I had supper with on Saturday night?”

  “Yes, but it’s a gallery rule,” Sam whispered. “Mr. Agnew doesn’t approve of the staff being familiar with the customers.”

  “Good morning, Miss Sullivan. I’ve come to collect my pictures,” said Sebastian, trying to sound like a customer.

  “Yes, of course, si