Not a Penny More, Not a Penny Less (33 page)

“Yes, why are expenses so high for this
operation?” asked Adrian.

“Well, over and above the obvious things,”
said Stephen, “the truth is that the floating exchange rate of sterling against
the dollar has hit us. At the beginning of this operation you could get $2.44
to the pound. This morning I could only get $2.32. I am spending in pounds but
charging Metcalfe in dollars at the going rate.”

“Not going to let him off with one penny,
are you?” said James.

“Not one penny. Now, before we go on I
should like to place on record...”

“This gets more like a meeting of the House
of Representatives every time,” said Jean Pierre.

“Quiet, frog,” said Adrian.

“Listen, you Harley Street pimp.”

Uproar broke out. The college scouts, who
had seen some rowdy gatherings in college in their time, wondered if they would
be called for help before the evening was out.

“Quiet.” The sharp senatorial voice of
Stephen brought them back to order. “I know you are in high spirits, but we
still have to get $250,101.24.”

“We must not on any account forget the
twenty-four cents, Stephen.”

“You weren’t as noisy the first time you had
dinner here, Jean Pierre: ‘The man that once did sell the lion’s skin/While the
beast liv’d, was killed with hunting him.’” The table went silent.

“Harvey still owes the Team money and it
will be just as hard to acquire the last quarter as it has been the first three
quarters. Before I hand over to James though, I would like to place on record
that his performance at the Clarendon was nothing less than brilliant.”

Adrian and Jean Pierre banged the table in
appreciation and agreement.

“Now, James, we are at your command.” Once
again the room fell into silence.

“My plan is nearly complete,” began James.
The others looked disbelieving.

“But I have something to tell you, which I
hope will allow me a short respite before we carry it out.”

“You’re going to get married.”

“Quite right, Jean Pierre,
as usual.”

“I could tell the moment you walked in. When
can we meet her, James?”

“Not until it’s too late for her to change
her mind, Jean Pierre.”

Stephen consulted his diary. “How much
reprieve are you asking for?”

“Well, Anne and I are getting on August
third in Boston–Anne’s mother is American,” explained James. “And although Anne
lives in England, it would please her mother if she was married at home. Then
there will be a honeymoon and we anticipate being back in England on August
twenty-fifth. My plan for Mr. Metcalfe ought to be carried out on September
thirteenth, on the closing day of the Stock Exchange account.”

“I’m sure that is acceptable, James. All
agreed?” Adrian and Jean Pierre nodded.

James launched into his plan.

“I shall require a telex and telephone. They
will be installed in my flat. Jean Pierre will have to be in Paris at the
Bourse, Stephen in Chicago on the commodity market and Adrian in London at
Lloyd’s. I will present a full blue dossier as soon as I return from my
honeymoon.”

They were all struck dumb with admiration
and James paused for dramatic effect.

“Very good, James,” said Stephen. “We wait
with interest–what further instructions do you have?”

“First, Stephen, you must know the opening
and closing price of gold in Johannesburg, Zurich, New York and London each day
for the next month. Jean Pierre, you must know the price of the deutschmark,
the French franc and the pound against the dollar every day over the same
period, and Adrian must master a telex machine and PBX eight-line switchboard
by September second. You must be as good as any international operator.”

“Always get the easy job, Adrian, don’t you?”
said Jean Pierre.

“You can...”

“Shut up, both of you,” said James.

Their faces registered surprise and respect.

“I have made notes for all of you.”

James handed two typewritten sheets to each
member of the Team.

“That should keep you occupied for at least
a month. Finally, you are all invited to the wedding of Miss Anne Summerton to
James Brigsley. I shan’t bother issuing you with formal invitations at such
short notice, but I have reserved seats for us on a 747 on the afternoon of
August second and we are all booked in at the Statler Hilton in Boston. I hope
you will honour me by being ushers.”

Even James was impressed by his own
efficiency. The others received the plane tickets and instructions with
astonishment.

“We will meet at the airport at three o’clock
and during the flight I shall test you on your dossier notes.”

“Yes, sir,” said Jean Pierre.

“Your test, Jean Pierre, will be both in
French and English as you are required to converse in two languages over a
transatlantic telephone, and to appear an expert on foreign currency exchange.”

There were no more jokes about James that
evening and as he travelled back up the motorway he felt a new man. Not only
had he been the star of the Oxford plan, he now had the other three on the run.
He would come out on top and do his old Pa yet.

F
or a change James was first to arrive for a
meeting, and the others joined him at Heathrow. He had obtained the upper hand
and he was not going to lose it. Adrian arrived last, clutching an armful of
newspapers.

“We’re only going for two days,” said
Stephen.

“I know, but I always miss the English
papers, so I have to take enough for tomorrow as well.”

Jean Pierre threw his arms up in Gallic
despair.

They checked their luggage through the
Number 3 Terminal and boarded the British Airways 747 flight to Logan
International Airport.

“It’s more like a football ground,” said
Adrian at his first encounter with the inside of a jumbo.

“It holds three hundred and fifty people.
About the size of the crowds your English clubs deserve,” said Jean Pierre.

“Cut it out,” said James
sternly, not realising that they were both nervous passengers and were only
trying to relieve the tension.
Later, during takeoff, they both pretended to read, but as soon as they
reached 3,000 feet and the little red light that says “Fasten your seat belts”
clicked off, they were back in top form.

The Team chewed its way stolidly through a
plastic dinner of cold chicken and Algerian red wine.

“I do hope, James,” said Jean Pierre, “that
your father-in-law will do a little better.”

After the meal James allowed them to watch
the film, but insisted that as soon as it was over they must prepare to be
tested one by one. Adrian and Jean Pierre moved back fifteen rows to watch
The Sting.
Stephen stayed in his seat to
be grilled by James.

James handed Stephen a typewritten sheet of
forty questions on the price of gold all over the world, and the market
movements in the past four weeks. Stephen completed it in twenty-two minutes,
and it came as no surprise to James to find that every answer was accurate:
Stephen had always been the backbone of the Team, and it was his cogent brain
that had really defeated Harvey Metcalfe.

Stephen and James dozed intermittently until
Adrian and Jean Pierre returned, when they were given their forty questions.
Adrian took thirty minutes over his and scored thirty-eight out of forty. Jean
Pierre took twenty-seven minutes and scored thirty-seven.

“Stephen got forty out of forty,” said
James,

“He would,” said Jean Pierre.

Adrian looked a little sheepish.

“And so will you by September second.
Understood?”

They both nodded.

“Have you seen
The Sting?”
asked Adrian.

“No,” replied Stephen. “I rarely go to the
cinema.”

“They’re not in our league. One big
operation and they don’t even keep the money.”

“Go to sleep, Adrian.”

The meal, the film and James’s quizzes had
taken up most of the six-hour flight
They
all nodded
off in the last hour to be woken up suddenly by:

“This is your captain speaking. We are
approaching Logan International Airport and our flight schedule is running
twenty minutes late. We expect to land at fifteen minutes past seven in
approximately ten minutes. We hope you have enjoyed your flight and will travel
again with British Airways.”

Customs took a little longer than usual as
they had all brought presents for the wedding and the other three did not want
James to know what they had bought for him. They had considerable trouble in
explaining to the customs officer why one of the two Piaget watches had
inscribed on the back: “The illicit profits from Discovery Oil–The three who
had plans.”

When they finally escaped the terminal, they
found Anne there at the entrance to greet them with a large Cadillac to
chauffeur them to the hotel.

“Now we know why it took you so long to come
up with something. Congratulations, James, you are entirely excused,” said Jean
Pierre, and threw his arms round Anne as only a Frenchman could. Adrian
introduced himself and kissed her gently on the side of her cheek. Stephen
shook hands with her rather formally. They bustled into the car, Jean Pierre
sitting next to Anne.

“Miss Summerton,” stuttered Stephen.

“Do call me Anne.”

“Will the reception be at the hotel?”

“No,” replied Anne, “at my parents’ house,
but there will be a car to pick you up and take you there after the wedding.
Your only job is to see that James gets to the church by three-thirty. Other
than that you have nothing to worry about. While I think of it, James, your
father and mother arrived yesterday and they are staying with my parents. We
thought it would not be a good idea for you to spend this evening at home
because Mother is flapping about everything.”

“Anything you say, darling.”

“If you should change your mind between now
and tomorrow,” said Jean Pierre, “I find myself available, and although I am
not blessed with noble blood, there are one or two compensations we French can
offer.”

Anne smiled to herself.

“You’re a little late, Jean Pierre. In any
case, I don’t like beards.”

“But I only...” began Jean Pierre.

The others glared at him.

At the hotel they left Anne and James alone
while they went to unpack.

“Do they know, darling?”

“They haven’t the slightest idea,” replied
James. “They are going to get the surprise of their lives tomorrow.”

“Is your plan prepared at last?”

“Wait and see.”

“Well, I have one,” said Anne. “When is
yours scheduled for?”

“September thirteenth.”

“I win
then–mine’s
for tomorrow.”

“What, you weren’t meant to...”

“Don’t worry. You just concentrate on
getting married... to me.”

“Can’t we go somewhere?”

“No, you terrible man.
You can wait until tomorrow.”

“I do love you.”

“Go to bed, you silly thing. I love you too,
but I must go home; otherwise nothing will be ready.”

James took the lift to the seventh floor and
joined the others for coffee.

“Anyone for blackjack?” said Jean Pierre.

“Not with you, you pirate,” said Adrian. “You
have been tutored by the biggest crook alive.”

The Team
were
in
top form and looking forward to the wedding. They didn’t depart for their
separate rooms until after midnight, despite the transatlantic time
dislocation. Even then, James lay awake for some time, turning the same
question over in his mind:

“I wonder what she’s up to.”

B
oston in August is as beautiful a city as
any in America, and the Team enjoyed a large breakfast in James’s room
overlooking the river.

“I don’t think he looks up to it,” said Jean
Pierre. “You’re the captain of the Team, Stephen. I volunteer to take his
place.”

“It will cost you $250,000.”

“Agreed,” said Jean Pierre.

“You don’t have $250
,000
,”
said Stephen. “You have $187,474.69, one quarter of what we have so far raised,
so my decision is that James must be the bridegroom.”

“It’s an Anglo-Saxon plot,” said Jean
Pierre, “and when James has successfully completed his plan and we have the
full amount, I shall reopen negotiations.”

They sat talking and laughing for a long
time over the toast and coffee. Stephen regarded them fondly, regretting how
rarely they would meet once–if, he corrected himself sternly–James’s operation
were accomplished. If Harvey Metcalfe had ever had a team like this on his side
instead of against him, he would have been the richest man in the world, and
not just in financial terms.