Wilbur Smith's Smashing Thrillers (38 page)

‘
But you do surprise me,
Nicholas.
’
Duncan showed his teeth again.
‘
It was your design.

‘
You know
it was not. You took the idea, and bastardized it. Duncan, you cannot
sen
d that,’
Nick sought for the word,
‘
that monster on to the open sea. Not
with one propulsion unit, and a single screw. The risk is too
appalling.
’

‘
I tell you this for no good reason, except perhaps that this
was once your office
,’
Duncan made a gesture that embraced the room,
‘
and
because it amuses me to point out to you the faults in your original
planning. The concept was sound, but your soured the cream by adding
those preposterous, shall we call them Bergean, touches. Five separate
propulsion units, and a forest of boilers. It wasn't viable, Nicholas.
’

‘
It was good, the figures were right.
’

‘
The whole tanker market has
changed since you left Christy Marine. I had to re-work it.
’

‘
You should
have dropped the whole concept if the cost structure changed.
’

'Oh no,
Nicholas, I restructured. My way, even in these hard times, I will
recover cap
ital in a year, and with a five
year life on the hull there is two hundred million dollars profit in it.
’

‘
I was going to build a ship that would last for thirty years
,’
Nick told
him. Something of which we could be proud
.’

‘
Pride is an expensive
commodity. We aren't building dynasties any more, we are in the game of
selling tanker space.
’
Duncan's tone was patronizing, that impeccable
accent drawn out, emphasizing the difference in their backgrounds.
‘
I'm
aiming at a five-year life, two hundred million profit, and then we sell
the hull to the Greeks or Japs. It's a one-time thing.
’

‘
You always were
a smash-and-grab artist,
’
Nick agreed.
But it isn't like dealing in commodities. Ships aren't wheat and bacon,
and the oceans aren't the orderly market floors.
’

‘
I disagree, I'm
afraid. The principles are the same - one buys, one sells.
’

‘
Ships are
living things, the ocean is a battleground of all the elements.
’

‘
Come,
Nicholas, you don't really believe that romantic nonsense.
’
Duncan drew a
gold Hunter from his waist pocket, and snapped open the lid to read the
dial
,
another of his affectations which irritated Nicholas.
‘
Those are
very expensive gentlemen waiting next door.
’

‘
You will be risking human
life, the men who sail her.
’

‘
Seamen are well paid
–
‘

‘
You will be taking a
monstrous risk with the life of the oceans. Wherever she goes Golden
Dawn will be a potential
–‘

‘
For God's sake, Nicholas, two hundred million
doll
ars is worth some kind of risk.’

‘
All right
,’
Nick nodded.
‘
Let's
forget the environment, and the human life, and consider the important
aspects the
-
money.
’

Duncan sighed, and wagged that fine head, smiling as
at a recalcitrant child.

‘
I have considered the money - in detail.
’

‘
You will not get an Al rating
at Lloyd's. You will not get insurance on that hull - unless you
underwrite yourself, the same way you did with Golden Adventurer, and if
you think that's wise, just wait until I've finished with my salvage
claim.’

Duncan Alexander's smile twisted slowly, and blood darkened his
cheeks under the snow-tan.
‘
I do not need a Lloyd's rating, though I am
sure I could get one if I wanted it. I have arranged continental and
oriental underwriters.
She will be fully insured.

‘
Against pollution claims, also? If you
burst that bag of crude on the continental shelf of America, or Europe,
they'll hit you for half a billion dollars. Nobody would
underwrite that.
’

‘
Golden Dawn is registered in Venezuela, and she has no
sister ships for the authorities to seize, like they did with the Torrey
Canyon. To whom will they address the pollution bill? A defunct South
American Company? No, Nicholas, Christy Marine will not be paying any
pollution bills.
’

‘
I cannot believe it, even of you.
’
Nick stared at him.
‘
You are cold-bloodedly talking about the possibility - no, the
probability - of dumping a million tons of crude oil into the sea.
’

'Your
moral indignation is touching. It really is. However, Nicholas, may I
remind you that this is family and house business - and you are no
longer either family or house.
’

‘
I fought you every time you cut a
corner
,’
Nick reminded him.
‘
I tried to teach you that cheap is always
expensive in the long run.
’

‘
You taught me?
’
For the first time Duncan
taunted him openly.
‘
What could you ever teach me about ships or money,
’
and he rolled his tongue gloating around the next words,
‘
or women?
’
Nick
made the first movement of lunging at him, but he caught himself, and
forced himself to unclench his fists at his sides. The blood sang in
his ears.

‘
I'm going to fight you he said quietly. I'm going to fight you from
here to the maritime conference, and beyond.
’
He made the decision in
that moment, he hadn't realized he was going to do it until then.

‘
A maritime conference has never taken less than five years to reach a
decision restricting one of its members. By that time Golden Dawn will
belong to some Japanese, Hong-Kong-based company - and Christy Marine
will have banked two hundred million.
’

‘
I'll have the oil ports closed to
you
.’

‘
By whom? Oil-thirsty governments, with lobbies of the big oil
companies?
’
Duncan laughed lightly, he had replaced the urbane mask.
‘
You
really are out of your depth again. We have bumped heads a dozen times
before, Nicholas - and I'm still on my feet. I'm not about to fold up
to your fine threats now.
’

After that, there was no hope that the
meeting in the panelled board room would lead to conciliation. The
atmosphere crackled and smouldered with the antagonism of the two
leading characters, so that they seemed to be the only persons on the
stage.

They sat opposite each other, separated by the glossy surface of the
rosewood table top, and their gazes seldom disengaged. They leaned
forward in their chairs, and when they smiled at each other, it was like
the silent snarl of two old dog wolves circling with hackles erect.

It took an enormous effort of self-control for Nicholas to force back
his anger far enough to be able to think clearly, and to allow his
intuition to pick up the gut-impressions, the subtle hints of the
thinking and planning that were taking place across the table behind
Duncan Alexander's handsome mask of a face.

It was half an hour before he was convinced that something other than
personal rivalry and antagonism was motivating the man before him.

His counter offer was too low to have any hope of being accepted, so low
that it became clear that he did not want to settle. Duncan Alexander
wanted to go to arbitration - and yet there was nothing he could gain by
that. It must be obvious to everyone at the table, beyond any doubt
whatsoever, that Nicholas claim was worth four million dollars. Nicholas
would have settled for four, even in his anger he would have gone for
four - risking that an arbitration board might have awarded six, and
knowing the delay and costs of going to litigation might amount to
another million. He would have settled.

Duncan Alexander was offering two and a half. It was a frivolous offer.
Duncan was going through the motions only. There was no serious attempt
at finding a settlement.
He didn't want to come to terms, and it seemed to Nicholas that by
refusing to settle he was gaining nothing, and risking a great deal. He
was a big enough boy to know that you never, but never, go to litigation
if there is another way out. It was a rule that Nicholas had graven on
his heart in letters of fire. Litigation makes only lawyers fat
.

Why
was Duncan baulking, what was he to gain by this obstruction? Nicholas
crushed down the temptation to stand up and walk out of the room with an
exclamation of disgust. Instead, he lit another cheroot and leaned
forward again, staring into Duncan Alexander's steely grey eyes, trying
to fathom him, needling, probing for the soft rotten spot - and thinking
hard.

What had Duncan Alexander to gain from not settling now? Why did he not
try with a low, but realistic offer what was he to gain?

Then quite suddenly he knew what it was. Chantelle's enigmatic appeal
for help and advice flashed back to him, and he knew what it was. Duncan
Alexander wanted time.
It was as simple as that. Duncan Alexander needed time.

‘
All right.
’
Satisfied at last, Nicholas leaned back in the deep
leather-padded chair, and veiled his eyes.
‘
We are still a hundred miles
apart. There will be only one meeting ground. That's in the upper room
at Lloyd's
. It's set down for the 27th. A
re we at least agreed on
that date?
’

‘
Of course,
’
Duncan leaned back also and Nicholas saw the
shift of his eyes, the little jump of nerves in the point of his
clenched jaws, the tightening of the long pianist's fingers that lay
before him on the leather-bound blotter.
‘
Of course
,’
Duncan repeated, and began to stand up, a gesture of
dismissal. He lied beautifully; had Nicholas not known he would lie, he
might have missed the little telltale signs.

In the ancient lift, James Teacher was jubilant, rubbing his little fat
hands together.
‘
We'll give him a go!
’
Nicholas glanced at him sourly.
Win, lose or draw, James Teacher would still draw his fee, and Duncan
Alexander's refusal to settle had quadrupled that fee. There was
something almost obscene about the little lawyer's exultation.

‘
They are going to duck
,’
Nick said grimly, and James Teacher sobered
slightly.

‘
Before noon tomorrow, Christy Marine will have lodged for postponement
of hearing,
’
Nick prophesied.
‘
You'll have to use Warlock with full power
on both to pull them before the arbitration board.
’