Mightier Than the Sword Read online

“The Polio Society. You haven’t answered my question.”

  “I thought we might trade information.”

  “What makes you think you have any information I might be interested in?”

  “Because I saw your name in a visitors’ book and thought you just might like to know that I own six percent of Farthings Bank.”

  Seb could tell nothing from the expression on Bishara’s face. “How much did you pay for your shares, Mr. Clifton?”

  “I’ve been purchasing Farthings’ stock regularly over the past five years, and the price has averaged out at around two pounds.”

  “Then it has proved a worthwhile investment, Mr. Clifton. Am I to assume you now wish to sell your shares?”

  “No. Mr. Sloane has already made me an offer of five pounds a share, which I turned down.”

  “But you would have made a handsome profit.”

  “Only in the short term.”

  “And if I were to offer you more?”

  “It would be of no interest to me. I still intend to take my place on the board.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I began my working life at Farthings as Cedric Hardcastle’s personal assistant. After his death, I resigned, and joined Kaufman’s.”

  “Shrewd old bugger, Saul Kaufman, and a smart operator. Why did you leave Farthings?”

  “Let’s just say there was a difference of opinion over who should attend funerals.”

  “So Sloane wouldn’t be happy if you were to join the board?”

  “If murder was legal, I’d be dead.”

  Bishara took out his check book and asked, “What’s your favorite charity?” That was one question Seb hadn’t been prepared for.

  “The Boy Scouts.”

  “Yes, I can believe that,” said Bishara, smiling as he wrote out a check, not for a hundred pounds, but for a thousand. “A pleasure to have met you, Mr. Clifton,” he said, as he handed it over. “I have a feeling we may meet again.”

  Seb shook his outstretched hand and was about to leave when Bishara added, “What was the one thing in particular we have in common?”

  “The oldest profession. Except in my case, it was my grandmother, not my mother.”

  * * *

  “What’s Sir Edward’s opinion of your chances of winning the case?” asked the major as Virginia poured him a second gin and tonic.

  “He’s a hundred percent certain we can’t lose, open-and-shut case were his exact words, and he’s convinced the jury will award me substantial damages, possibly as much as fifty thousand.”

  “That’s good news,” said Fisher. “Will he be calling me as a witness?”

  “No, he says he doesn’t need you, although he thinks there’s an outside chance the other side may call you. But it’s unlikely.”

  “That could prove embarrassing.”

  “Not if you stick to the simple line that you were my professional advisor when it came to stocks and shares, and that I didn’t show a great deal of interest in the details, as I trusted your judgement.”

  “But if I were to do that, someone might suggest it was me who was trying to bring the company down.”

  “If they were stupid enough to try that line of questioning, Sir Edward would remind the judge that it’s not you who’s on trial, and because you’re a Member of Parliament, Mr. Trelford would quickly back off.”

  “And you say Sir Edward is certain you can’t lose?” asked Fisher, not sounding convinced.

  “As long as we all stick to the party line, he says we’re home and dry.”

  “And he doesn’t think it’s likely they’ll call me?”

  “He’d be surprised if they did. But I do feel,” continued Virginia, “that if, as Sir Edward suggested, I’m likely to be awarded fifty thousand, we should split it down the middle. I’ve asked my lawyers to draw up an agreement to that effect.”

  “That’s most generous, Virginia.”

  “No more than you deserve, Alex.”

  32

  SEBASTIAN WAS sitting in the bath when the phone rang. Only one person would have considered calling him at that hour in the morning. Should he jump out of the bath and run into the hall, leaving a small stream in his wake, or should he get on with washing himself, as his mother was sure to call again in a few minutes’ time? He stayed put.

  He was right, the phone went again while he was in the middle of shaving. This time he walked out into the hall and picked up the receiver. “Good morning, Mother,” he said, before she’d had a chance to speak.

  “Sorry to call you so early, Seb, but I need your advice. How do you think I should vote when Desmond Mellor stands for deputy chairman?”

  “I haven’t changed my mind since we discussed this subject last night, mother. If you vote against Mellor and he wins, that will undermine your position. If you abstain and the vote’s tied, you’ll still have the casting vote. But if you vote for him—”

  “I would never do that.”

  “Then you have two choices. Personally I’d vote against, so that he if loses he’ll have no choice but to resign. By the way, Ross Buchanan doesn’t agree with me. He thinks you should abstain and keep your options open. But I don’t have to remind you what happened the last time you did that, when Fisher stood for chairman.”

  “It’s different this time. Mellor’s given me his word that he won’t vote for himself.”

  “In writing?”

  “No,” admitted Emma.

  “Then it’s not a word I’d rely on.”

  “Yes, but if I—”

  “Mum, if I don’t finish shaving, you won’t even get my vote.”

  “Yes, sorry. I’ll think about what you said. See you at the board meeting.”

  Seb smiled as he put the phone down. What a complete waste of time that was when he knew she’d already decided to abstain. He checked his watch. Just enough time to grab a bowl of muesli and boil himself an egg.

  * * *

  “What did he say?” asked Harry as he passed his wife a cup of tea.

  “He said I should vote against, but that Ross thinks I should abstain. So I’m none the wiser.”

  “But only last night you told me you were confident of winning.”

  “By six votes to four, even if I abstain.”

  “Then I think you should abstain.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I agree with Ross. If you vote against Mellor and lose, it would make your position untenable. However, I’m beginning to think I should postpone my trip to Leningrad until we know the outcome.”

  “But if you don’t go today,” said Emma, “you’ll have to wait at least six months before you can get another visa. Whereas if you go now, you’ll be back well in time for the trial.”

  “But if you were to lose the vote today…”

  “I’m not going to lose, Harry. Six of the directors have given me their word, so there’s nothing to worry about. And you gave your word to Mrs. Babakov, so you must keep it. In any case, it will be nothing less than a personal triumph when you come home with a copy of Uncle Joe under your arm. So start packing.”

  * * *

  Sebastian was putting on his jacket and heading for the door when the phone rang for a third time. He looked at his watch, 7:56, and thought about ignoring it, but turned back, grabbed the phone, and said, “I haven’t got time, Mother.”

  “It’s not your mother,” said Rachel. “I thought you ought to know that I had a call just after you left the office last night, and I wouldn’t have bothered you if she hadn’t said it was urgent. I’ve already called a couple of times this morning, but you were engaged.”

  “She?” said Seb.

  “A woman called Dr. Rosemary Wolfe, phoning from the States. Said you’d know who she was.”

  “I most certainly do. Did she leave any message?”

  “No, just a number, 202 555 0319. But, Seb, don’t forget, they’re five hours behind us, so it’s only three in the morning in Washington.”

  “Thank