Michael Ridpath - Free To Trade

'There is a small point I don't quite understand,' he said. 'Why should Piper want to get me of all people in on this?'

'Oh, he didn't,' said Cathy. 'Cash insisted on this. In fact I think he is behind this whole thing. He sees this as a way of getting his key clients to make a lot of money. I think he is worried that since Paul left in such difficult circumstances, he might lose your account. He's desperate to get you in.'

'I see.'

'So shall I tell Cash you are not interested?'

'Yes,' said Hamilton and rang off.

Damn, I thought. Cathy had done an excellent job, but it looked like Hamilton still wasn't biting.

Rob strolled over. 'Are we going to do this Mix N Match, then?' Hamilton leaned back in his chair, stroking his beard. 'That girl talks too much,' he said.

'I think she is scared,' I said. 'It's a good thing we have let it

go.'

'I don't think we will let it go,' Hamilton said. 'I believe her. I think Cash does know something, and showing a sure thing to his favourite customers is just the sort of thing he would do. And I am damned if I am going to let that prima donna Hall get his hands on this one.'

'So we do it?' Rob asked.

'We do it.'

'Great!' said Rob.

Hamilton rang Cash. When he answered, Hamilton said, 'Cathy isn't on the line, is she?'

'No,' said Cash.

'Well, I think you should watch out for her. I just spoke to her and I think she is a little ah,' Hamilton searched for the word, 'concerned about this deal. Just for my own conscience, there is nothing illegal about this transaction or the manner in which you got the information relating to it, is there?'

'Hey, Hamilton, you know I'm straight,' protested Cash. 'This deal is 100 per cent kosher, you have my word.'

Hamilton didn't believe him, of course, but he wanted to cover himself in case anything went wrong.

'Good. Well, I'm in for twenty million. Send the documents round here by courier for me to sign. And don't let Cathy find out I have committed. Get her off the deal somehow.' He hung up, turned to me and smiled. 'This is going to work,' he said. 'I know this is going to work.'

I went back to my desk, and called Cathy. 'Well done! You were brilliant!' I said.

'You think he's definitely going for it?' she said.

'Definitely.'

'I am going to New York for four days tomorrow,' she said.

'I'm following up on some of the clients Cash and I saw when we were over there last month. Let me know what happens. Cash should be able to tell you where I am.'

'Don't worry, I will,' I said. Something made me uneasy. 'Cathy?'

'Yes?'

'Be careful of Waigel.'

'Why?'

'Just be careful. He's dangerous. I would hate you to get hurt.'

'Don't worry. I won't go anywhere near him. Besides, there is no reason he should be worried about me.'

'OK, I suppose you are right.' I wasn't convinced.

The documents were signed that afternoon, and Hamilton authorised $20 million to be paid into the account of the new SPV. Phoenix Prosperity also signed up that afternoon, and transferred $20 million into the same account. Cash said that Jack Salmon had been raring to go, and had been furious that his boss had not given him the go-ahead straight away. Piper signed the subscription agreement, but delayed transferring his $20 million subscription into the SPV's account.

So within twenty-four hours, the SPV was in existence and it had $40 million of funds at its disposal.

I found it very difficult to concentrate, or even pretend to be concentrating on my work over the next couple of days. Hamilton was cool as ever, of course, just checking once to make sure that the prices of Mix N Match bonds hadn't fallen.

Once Denny, as trustee for the SPV, confirmed that the funds were in place, I acted. I didn't have much time. I had to wait until the brief quarter of an hour when Hamilton was away from his desk buying a sandwich. Most of the others were at lunch as well, although Stewart, Debbie's replacement, was at his desk, leafing through a bondmarket rag. He would probably hear what I was going to do. That was just tough.

First, I called Denny. Over the recorded phone, I sold to the SPV the $20 million Tremont Capital position held by De Jong at par. Then I sold De Jong's $20 million stake in the SPV back to it at par. It only took a minute. Stewart cast a quick glance at me whilst I was talking on the phone, and then went back to his magazine. He hadn't been able to hear what I was doing.

I then pulled out two sets of trading tickets and wrote in the details of the trades I had just completed. When the tickets were processed, they would ensure that the Tremont Capital bonds would be transferred from Chase, where they were held in custody for De Jong, to the SPV's custodian, Barclays. Similarly, the share certificates for the SPV, which De Jong had just received from Denny Clark, would be sent back round there by messenger. More importantly, De Jong's bank would be instructed to expect payment of $40 million from the SPV.

I looked at the clock. A quarter past one. Just time for a sandwich.

As I stood in the queue in the small sandwich shop I ran through everything in my head one more time. The net result of all this juggling was that De Jong had received back the $20 million it had paid for the bogus Tremont Capital bonds. The SPV now consisted of $20 million of assets in the form of Tremont Capital bonds, funded by $20 million of share capital, all held by Phoenix Prosperity. Since Tremont Capital's only asset was its investment in Phoenix Prosperity, or 'Uncle Sam's Money Machine', Phoenix Prosperity had just bought its own shares. When you unravelled all this, what had happened was that the $20 million that De Jong & Co. had unwittingly invested in Phoenix Prosperity via Tremont Capital, had been repaid. All very neat.

Hamilton, Rob and I were due to go round to Denny's office that afternoon, right after lunch. Denny had promised to have a reception committee for Hamilton. I was looking forward to that meeting.

I was pleased with myself. I had taken Hamilton on at his own game, and beaten him. I couldn't bring Debbie back to life, but at least her murderer would now face justice. De Jong would get their money back, and I would avoid a murder charge. All in all, a satisfactory outcome.

I walked back to my desk clutching a ham-and-cheese roll in a paper bag in one hand, and balancing a black coffee in a polystyrene cup in the other. The coffee from the shop was much better than the stuff which dripped out of the machine in the corridor. Stewart had nipped out for a bite himself. The only two people in the room were Hamilton, who was buried in something, and Rob munching a sandwich over a copy of the FT spread out on his desk.

I sat down, and reached for the trading tickets.

They weren't there.

I scrabbled through the papers on my desk. I flipped through the pile of prospectuses. Had I taken them through to administration? No. Had I stuffed them in my briefcase? I was pretty sure I hadn't but I checked anyway. No. Had I hidden them? No.

I could remember what I had done with them. I had left them face-up in the middle of my desk. And they weren't there.

My heart began to beat faster. I took a deep breath and turned round.

Hamilton was standing behind me, holding the tickets out in front of him. He was reading them.

'What's this, Paul?' he said in a neutral voice.

I stood up and leaned against my desk, facing him. I tried to make my reply casual. 'These trades get back the Tremont Capital money for De Jong,' I said.

'Very clever,' he said. He looked up and stared at me. His cold blue eyes looked right into me, piercing straight through my feeble attempt at nonchalance, uncovering the innermost workings of my brain.

He knew I knew.