Sons of Fortune (42 page)

The
following day, the picture of the two of them dominated the front page, and
achieved exactly what Harry had hoped for- the image of a six-foot-one man,
towering over a five-foot-seven woman. “And don’t smile, look serious,” he’d
added. “We need them to forget how young you are.”

Fletcher
read the words below the picture ... nothing between them.

The
editorial said that he had held his own in the debate, but Barbara Hunter still
led the opinion polls by two percent with only nine days to go.

2.76

“Do
you mind if I smoke?”

“No,
it’s only Su Ling who doesn’t approve of the habit.”

“I
don’t think she approves of me either,” said Julia
Kirkbridge
,
as she flicked on her lighter.

“You
have to remember that she was brought up by a very conservative mother,” said
Tom. “She even disapproved of Nat to begin with, but she’ll come around,
especially when I tell her
. .”

“
Shh
,” said Julia, “for now that must remain our little
secret.” She inhaled deeply, and then added, “I like Nat; you two obviously
make a good team.”

“We
do, but I’m keen to close this deal while he’s on vacation, especially after
his triumph in taking over our oldest rival.”

“I
can understand that,” said Julia, “but how do you rate our chances?”

“It’s
beginning to look as if there are only two or three serious bidders in the
field. The restrictions set out in the council’s offer document should
eliminate any cowboys.”

“Restrictions?”

“The
council is demanding not only that the bidding must be by public auction, but
that the full amount has to be paid on signature.”

“Why
are they insisting on that?” asked Julia, sitting up in bed. “In the past, I’ve
always put ten percent down and assumed I would be given at least twenty-eight
days before I had to complete.”

“Yes,
that would be normal practice, but this site has become a political hot potato.

Barbara
Hunter is insisting there be no hold ups, because one or two other deals have
fallen through recently when it was discovered that a speculator didn’t have
the necessary resources to complete the agreement. And don’t forget, we’re only
days away from an election, so they are making sure that there can be no
comebacks later.”

“Does
that mean I’ll have to deposit another three million with you by next Friday?”
asked Julia.

“No,
if we secure the property, the bank will cover you with a short-term loan.”

“But
what if I renege on the deal?” asked Julia.

“It
doesn’t matter to us,” said Tom. “We would sell it on to the under-bidder, and
still have your five hundred thousand to cover any loss.”

“Banks,”
said Julia as she stubbed out her cigarette and slid under the sheets. “You
never lose.”

“I
want you to do me a favor,” said Su Ling as the plane began its descent into
Los Angeles airport.

“Yes,
little flower, I’m listening.”

“See
if you can go a whole week without phoning the bank. Don’t forget this is
Luke’s first big trip.”

“Mine
too,” said Nat, putting his arm around his son, “I’ve always wanted to visit
Disneyland.”

“Now
stop teasing, you made a deal, and I expect you to keep 8 to it.”

“I
would like to keep an eye on the deal that Tom’s trying to close with Julia’s
company.”

“Don’t
you think Tom just might like to have a little triumph of his own, one that
hadn’t been double-checked by the great Nat Cartwright? It was you, after all,
who decided to trust her.”

“I
take your point,” said Nat, as Luke clung to him as the plane touched down.
“But do you mind if I phone him on Friday afternoon just to find out if our bid
on the Cedar Wood project was successful?”

“No, as long as you do leave it until Friday
afternoon.”

“Dad,
will we travel in a Sputnik?”

“You
bet,” said Nat, “why else would you go to LA?”

Tom
met Julia off the train from New York and drove her straight to City Hall. They
walked in to find the cleaners just leaving after the debate the previous
evening. Tom had read in the Hartford Courant that over a thousand people
attended the event, and the paper’s editorial had suggested there wasn’t much
to pick between the two candidates. He’d always voted Republican in the past,
but he thought that Fletcher Davenport sounded like a decent man.

“Why
have we arrived so early?” asked Julia, breaking into his thoughts.

“I
want to be familiar with the layout of the room,” explained Tom, “so that when
the bidding starts, we can’t be taken by surprise. Don’t forget, the whole
thing could all be over in a few minutes.”

“Where
do you think we should sit?”

“Halfway back on the right.
I’ve already told the auctioneer what sign I intend to use when I’m bidding.”

Tom
looked up toward the stage and watched as the auctioneer mounted the rostrum,
tapped the microphone, and stared down at the tiny audience, checking
everything was in place.

“Who
are all these people?” asked Julia, looking around the hall.

“A mixture of council officials, including the chief
executive, Mr. Cooke, representatives from the auctioneer’s, and the odd person
who’s got nothing better to do on a Friday afternoon.
But as far as I can see, there are only three serious bidders.” Tom checked his
watch. “Perhaps we should sit down.”

Julia
and Tom took their places about halfway back on the end of the row. Tom picked
up the sales brochure on the seat beside him, and when Julia touched his hand,
he couldn’t help wondering how many people would work out that they were
lovers. He turned the page and studied an architect’s mock-up of what the
proposed mall might look like. He was still reading through the small print
when the auctioneer indicated he was ready to begin. He cleared his throat.

“Ladies
and gentlemen.” he said, “there is only one item to come under the hammer this
afternoon, a prime site on the north side of the city known as Cedar Wood. The
city council is offering this property with approval for commercial
development. The terms of payment and regulatory requirements are detailed in the
brochure to be found on your seats. I must stress that if any of the terms are
not adhered
to,
the council is within its rights to
withdraw from the transaction.” He paused to allow his words to sink in. “I
have an opening bid of two million,” he declared, and immediately looked in
Tom’s direction.

Although
Tom said nothing and gave no sign, the auctioneer announced, “I have a new
bidder at two million two hundred and fifty thousand.” The auctioneer made a
show of glancing around the room, despite the fact he’d knew exactly where the
three serious bidders were seated. His eyes settled on a well-known local
lawyer in the second row, who raised his brochure. “Two million five hundred
thousand, it’s with you, sir.” The auctioneer turned his attention back to Tom,
who didn’t even blink.
“Two million seven hundred and fifty
thousand.”
His eyes returned to the lawyer, who waited for some time
before he once again raised his brochure. “Three million,” said the auctioneer,
and immediately looked in Tom’s direction before saying, “Three million two
hundred and fifty thousand.”

He
returned to the lawyer, who seemed to hesitate. Julia squeezed Tom’s hand
between the chairs. “I think we’ve got it.”

“Three
million five hundred thousand?” suggested the auctioneer, his eyes fixed on the
lawyer.

“Not
yet we haven’t,” Tom whispered.

“Three
million five hundred thousand,” repeated the auctioneer hopefully. “Three
million five hundred thousand,” he repeated gratefully as the brochure rose for
a third time.

“Damn,”
said Tom, taking off his glasses, “I think we must have both settled on the
same upper limit.”

“Then
let’s go to three six,” said Julia.

“That way at least we’ll find out.”

Although
Tom had removed his glasses-the sign that he was no longer bidding-the
auctioneer could see that Mr. Russell was in deep conversation with the lady
seated next to him.

“Have
we finished bidding, sir? Or...”

Tom
hesitated and then said, “Three million six hundred thousand.”

The
auctioneer swung his attention back to the lawyer, who had placed his brochure
on the empty seat beside him. “Can I say three million seven hundred thousand
sir, or are we all finished?”

The
brochure remained on the seat. “Any other bids from the floor?” asked the
auctioneer as his eyes swept the dozen or so people who were seated in a hall
that had held a thousand the night before. “One last chance, otherwise I will
let it go at three million six hundred thousand.” He raised his hammer and,
receiving no response, brought it down with a thud. “Sold for three million six
hundred thousand dollars to the gentleman at the end of the row.”

“Well
done,” said Julia.

“It’s
going to cost you another hundred thousand,” said Tom, “but we couldn’t have
known that two of us would settle on the same upper limit. I’ll just go and
sort out the paperwork and hand over the check,
then
we can go off and celebrate.”

“What
a good idea,” said Julia, as she ran a finger down the inside of his leg.

“Congratulations,
Mr. Russell,” said Mr. Cooke. “Your client has secured a fine property which I
am sure in the long term will yield an excellent return.”

“I
agree,” said Tom, as he wrote out a check for three point six million dollars
and handed it across to the council’s chief executive.

“Is
Russell’s Bank the principal in this transaction?” inquired Mr. Cooke as he
studied the signature.

“No,
we are representing a New York client who banks with us.”

“I
am sorry to appear to be nitpicking about this, Mr. Russell, but the terms of
the agreement make it clear that the check for the full amount must be signed
by the principal and not by his or her representative.”

“But
we represent the company, and are holding their deposit.”

“Then
it shouldn’t be too difficult for your client to sign a check on behalf of that
company,” suggested Mr. Cooke.

“But
why
. .”
began Tom.

“It’s
not for me to try and fathom the machinations of our elected representatives,
Mr. Russell, but after the debacle last year over the
Aldwich
contract and the questions I have to answer daily from Mrs. Hunter,” he let out
a sigh, “I have been left with no choice but to keep to the letter, as well as
the spirit, of the agreement.”

“But
what can I do about it at this late stage?” asked Tom.

“You
still have until five o’clock to produce a check signed by the principal. If
you fail to do so, the property will be offered to the under-bidder for three
point five million, and the council will look to you to make up the difference
of one hundred thousand dollars.”

Tom
ran to the back of the room. “Have you got your checkbook with you?”

“No,”
said Julia. “You told me that Russell’s would cover the full amount until I
transferred the difference on Monday.”

“Yes,
I did,” said Tom, trying to think on his feet. “There’s nothing else for it,”
he added, “
we’ll
just have to go straight to the
bank.” He checked his watch, it was nearly four o’clock. “Damn,” he added,
painfully aware that if Nat hadn’t been on holiday, he would have spotted the
subclause
and anticipated its consequences. On the short walk
from City Hall to Russell’s Bank, Tom explained to Julia what Mr. Cooke had
insisted on.

“Does
that mean I’ve lost the deal, not to mention a hundred thousand?”

“No,
I’ve already thought of a way around that, but it will need your agreement.”

“If
it will secure the property,” said Julia, “I’ll do whatever you advise.”

As
soon as they entered the bank, Tom went straight to his office, picked up a
phone and asked the chief teller to join him. While he waited for Ray Jackson
to arrive, he took out a blank checkbook and began writing out the words three
million six hundred thousand dollars. The chief teller knocked on the door and
entered the chairman’s office.

“Ray,
I want you to transfer three million one hundred thousand dollars to Mrs.
Kirkbridge’s
account.”

The
chief teller hesitated for a moment. “I’ll need a letter of authorization
before I can transfer such a large amount,” he said. “It’s way above my limit.”

“Yes,
of course,” said the chairman, and removed the standard form from his top
drawer and quickly filled in the relevant figures. Tom didn’t comment on the
fact that it was also the largest sum he had ever authorized. He passed the
form across to the chief teller, who studied the details carefully. He looked
as if he wanted to query the chairman’s decision, and then thought better of
it.