This Was A Man (14 page)

‘Numbers eleven to fifteen.’

Seb looked up at the clock on the wall: 2.12 p.m. At this rate, he’d be lucky to get more than forty minutes with Mellor, although he suspected the man would have his pitch well prepared
and wouldn’t waste any time. He turned to the back page of the
Mail
to see an old photograph of Muhammad Ali jabbing his finger at reporters and saying,
His hands can’t hit
what his eyes can’t see
. Seb wondered who came up with such brilliant lines – or was the ex-champ just brilliant?

‘Numbers sixteen to twenty.’

Seb rose slowly from his place and joined a group of a dozen visitors who were already chasing after an officer as he headed into the bowels of the prison. They were stopped and searched before
being allowed to enter the visitors’ area.

Sebastian found himself in a large square room laid out with dozens of small tables, each surrounded by four chairs, one red, and three blue. He stared around the room but didn’t spot
Mellor until he raised a hand. He’d put on so much weight Seb hardly recognized him. Even before Seb had sat down, Mellor gestured towards the canteen at the other end of the room and said,
‘Could you get me a cup of tea and a Kit Kat?’

Seb joined a small queue at the counter, where he handed over most of his vouchers in exchange for two cups of tea and two Kit Kats. When he returned to the table, he placed one of the cups and
both chocolate bars in front of his old adversary.

‘So, why did you want to see me?’ Seb asked, not bothering with any small talk.

‘It’s a long story, but I don’t expect any of it will surprise you.’ Mellor took a sip of tea and removed the wrapper from a Kit Kat while he was speaking. ‘After
the police found out Sloane and I were responsible for having your friend Hakim Bishara arrested, Sloane turned Queen’s evidence and stitched me up. I was sentenced to two years for
perverting the course of justice, while he got away scot free. If that wasn’t enough, once I was inside, he managed to take control of Mellor Travel. Claimed he was the only man who could
rescue the company while the chairman was in jail, and the shareholders bought it.’

‘But as the majority shareholder, you must still have overall control?’

‘Not of a public company, as you will have discovered when Bishara was banged up. They don’t even send me the minutes of the board meetings. But Sloane doesn’t realize
I’ve got someone on the inside who keeps me well informed.’

‘Jim Knowles?’

‘No. That bastard dropped me the moment I was arrested, and even proposed Sloane for chairman. In exchange, Knowles became his deputy on an inflated salary.’

‘Cosy little arrangement,’ said Seb. ‘But you must have taken legal advice.’

‘The best. But they’d been careful not to break the law, so there wasn’t a whole lot I could do about it. But you can.’

Seb sipped his tea while Mellor tore the wrapper off the second Kit Kat.

‘What do you have in mind?’ asked Seb.

‘As you pointed out, Mr Clifton, I am still the majority shareholder of Mellor Travel, but I suspect that by the time I get out, those shares won’t be worth the paper they’re
written on. But if I were to sell them to you for one pound—’

‘What’s the catch?’

‘No catch, although we’ve had our differences in the past. My sole interest is revenge – I want Adrian Sloane and Jim Knowles removed from the board and the company to be run
properly, and I can’t think of anyone better to do the job.’

‘And what would you expect in return?’ Seb paused and, looking him straight in the eye, added, ‘When you get out of jail.’

A buzzer sounded, warning them they had ten minutes left.

‘That might not be for some time,’ said Mellor, snapping one of the chocolate fingers in half. ‘I’m now facing a further charge you don’t even know
about.’

Seb didn’t press him. Time was running out and he had several more questions that needed answering before he could consider Mellor’s proposition. ‘But you will get out
eventually.’

‘And when I do, I will expect my fifty-one per cent share-holding in Mellor Travel to be returned in full, also for one pound.’

‘Then what’s in it for Farthings?’

‘This time you can appoint the chairman, the board, and run the company. Farthings can also charge a handsome retainer for their services, while collecting twenty per cent of Mellor
Travel’s annual profits, which I think you’ll agree is more than fair. You’ll also have the added pleasure of removing Adrian Sloane from the chair for a second time. All
I’d ask in return is to receive a copy of the minutes following every board meeting, and to have a face to face meeting with you once a quarter.’

The buzzer sounded a second time. Five minutes.

‘I’ll give it some thought and when I’ve made up my mind, I’ll call you.’

‘You can’t call me, Mr Clifton. Prisoners can’t receive incoming calls. I’ll ring you at the bank next Friday morning at ten, which should give you more than enough time
to make up your mind.’

The buzzer sounded a third time.

Jessica looked at the clock as her father walked into the hall and hung up his coat.

‘You only just made it in time,’ she said, giving him a reluctant kiss on the cheek.

Sebastian grinned. ‘So where do you want to have dinner, young lady?’

‘Harry’s Bar.’

‘In London or Venice?’ he asked as they strolled into the drawing room.

‘London this time.’

‘I don’t think I’ll be able to get a table at such short notice.’

‘I’ve already booked.’

‘Of course you have. Anything else I should know about?’ he asked, as he poured himself a stiff whisky.

‘It’s not what you should know,’ scolded Jessica, ‘it’s what you’ve forgotten.’

‘No, I haven’t.’ Like a magician, Seb produced a gift from an inside pocket.

‘Is that what I think it is?’ Jessica asked, smiling for the first time.

‘Well, it’s certainly what you’ve been hinting about for the past few weeks.’

Jessica threw her arms around her father. ‘Thanks, Pops,’ she said, ripping off the wrapping paper and opening a small, slim box.

‘Am I back in favour?’ asked Seb, as Jessica strapped the Warhol Swatch on to her wrist.

‘Only if you’ve remembered Mom’s present.’

‘But it’s not her birthday,’ said Seb. ‘At least, not for a couple of months.’

‘I know that, Pops, but it is your wedding anniversary tomorrow, just in case you’ve forgotten.’

‘Help! Yes, I had.’

‘But luckily I hadn’t,’ said Jessica, pointing to a beautifully wrapped box on the table, with a card attached.

‘What’s inside?’

‘A pair of Rayne shoes Mom spotted in the King’s Road last week, but thought were a little too expensive. All you have to do is sign the card.’

They heard the front door open, and Seb quickly scribbled
An unforgettable year. Love Seb xxx
on the card. ‘How did you manage to pay for them?’ he whispered, as he placed
the pen back in his pocket.

‘On your credit card, of course.’

‘God help your husband,’ said Seb, as Samantha joined them.

‘Look what Pops has given me for my birthday!’ said Jessica, thrusting out her arm.

‘What a lovely present,’ said Samantha, admiring the Campbell’s Soup watch.

‘And I’ve got something for you too, my darling,’ said Seb, as he picked up the box from the table, just hoping the ink had dried. ‘Happy anniversary,’ he added,
before taking her in his arms.

Samantha looked over her husband’s shoulder and winked at her daughter.

Arnold Hardcastle joined Hakim and Sebastian in the chairman’s office for the third time that week.

‘Have you had enough time to consider Mellor’s proposition?’ asked Hakim, as the bank’s legal advisor sat down opposite them.

‘I most certainly have,’ said Arnold, ‘and there’s no doubt it’s a fair offer, but I have to ask, why is Mellor handing over the company to you of all
people?’

‘Because he hates Adrian Sloane even more than we do?’ suggested Seb. ‘Don’t forget, Sloane was responsible for him failing to get his hands on the bank.’

‘There are other banks in the City,’ said Arnold.

‘But none that know how Sloane operates as well as we do,’ replied Hakim. ‘Have you made contact with Mellor’s lawyers to find out if they think this deal is for
real?’

‘It’s real enough,’ said Arnold. ‘Although their senior partner confessed he was as puzzled by it as we are. I think he summed it up best when he suggested it might be a
case of better the devil you know.’

‘When’s Mellor likely to be released?’ asked Seb.

‘It may not be for some time,’ said Arnold, ‘as he’s facing further charges.’

‘Further charges?’ said Hakim.

‘Dealing in counterfeit money. And there’s another charge of entrapment.’

‘I can’t believe Mellor would do anything quite that stupid, especially when he was already in custody.’

‘If you’re locked in a prison cell all day,’ said Arnold, ‘I suspect your judgement might become clouded, especially if the only thought on your mind is how to get even
with the man who’s responsible for you being there.’

‘I have to admit,’ said Hakim, ‘if I hadn’t had you two watching over me when I was in prison, God knows what I might have got up to.’

‘I’m still not convinced,’ said Seb. ‘It’s all too easy. Don’t forget that if Mellor swallowed a nail, it would come out as a corkscrew.’

‘Then perhaps we should walk away from the deal,’ said Arnold.

‘And allow Sloane to go on taking advantage of his position, while growing richer by the minute?’ Seb reminded them.

‘Fair point,’ said Hakim. ‘And although I’ve never considered myself a vindictive man, I wouldn’t be sorry to see Sloane finally destroyed. But perhaps Seb and I
are taking this too personally and should simply look at the deal on its merits. What’s your opinion, Arnold?’

‘There’s no doubt that under normal circumstances it would be a worthwhile deal for the bank, but after your past experiences with Mellor, perhaps it would be wise if I were to
inform the Bank of England’s Ethics Committee that we’re considering entering into a business transaction with someone who’s in jail. If they have no objection, who are we to
disagree?’

‘That’s certainly the belt-and-braces solution,’ said Hakim. ‘Why don’t you do that, Arnold, and report back to me once you’ve canvassed their
opinion?’

‘And I don’t have to remind you,’ said Seb, ‘that Mellor will be phoning me at ten on Friday morning.’

‘Just make sure he doesn’t reverse the charges,’ said Hakim.

The two of them sat alone at the end of the bar to be sure they couldn’t be overheard.

‘When you think about it,’ said Knowles, ‘it’s surprising that you ended up as the chairman of a travel company. After all, I’ve never known you to take a
holiday.’

‘I don’t care for foreigners,’ said Sloane. ‘You can’t trust them.’ The barman refilled his glass with gin. ‘And in any case, I can’t swim, and
lying on a beach getting burnt isn’t my idea of fun. I prefer to stay in England and enjoy a few days’ shooting, or walking in the hills on my own. Mind you, I don’t think
I’ll be in the travel business for much longer.’