Питер Джеймс - Billionaire

Rocq stared him straight in the eye, then took a large pull on his tumbler; he needed enough drink for courage, but not too much that he would lose what little concentration he had remaining. Then he carefully cut away the end of his Havana with his index finger nail. He nodded, slowly. ‘Yes,’ he said.

‘You have this money readily available, I presume?’ Rocq pulled out his gold Dunhill and lit the cigar, slowly, deliberately, rolling the tip over and over in the flame, sucking gently, sucking deeply, caressing and nursing the end into an even bright red glow. The smoke tasted sweet, reassuring, rich and beautiful. He took one large mouthful, let the smoke curl up for a few moments from his bottom lip, then blew it hard, straight out in front of him; he swivelled his head, looked Elleck briefly in the face, then stared down at Elleck’s exquisitely polished Manolo Blahnick crocodile shoes. ‘No, Sir Monty, I haven’t.’

‘Nor the £512,000 you need to wire to your friend in Milan?’

A chill went through Rocq. Nobody had actually spelled out the enormity of the mess he was in before. The chill subsided, and he was left with a damp mixture of frustration and despair. He lifted his eyes up to meet Elleck’s: ‘No, I don’t have that either.’

‘How about forty pence for your tube fare home?’ Elleck’s tone had suddenly become warmer again. He grinned, and Elleck grinned back.

‘I think I can just about run to that,’ he said.

‘Well,’ said Elleck, ‘that’s a start!’

Rocq picked up his glass for another sip; to his slight surprise, he discovered it was empty.

‘Drop more?’ asked Elleck.

‘Just a drop,’ said Rocq, conscious that he was beginning to slur his words, and fighting hard to try and feel sober again.

Elleck marched back over to the drinks cabinet. He did not speak until he had brought Rocq’s refilled glass and sat down again. ‘Alex,’ he said, ‘I like to think of my firm as a family. All my employees are one big family. If anyone is ever in trouble, and it is within my power to help them, then I will always do so.’ He paused, and lifted his tumbler: ‘Your health.’

Rocq lifted his and they both drank. Then Elleck continued:

‘Now, you seem to be in a lot of trouble. The sums of money you owe are fantastic — in anybody’s terms — almost £1 million altogether. Everyone dreams of being a millionaire. Even today, with all the inflation we have had over the years, to be a millionaire is still to achieve a magical status. You are thirty-one and you owe a million pounds. You owe more perhaps than one man in a hundred thousand will ever make in his entire lifetime.

‘You are a bright fellow. You have enthusiasm, youth, ability, no doubt. I don’t know — maybe, also, you have rich relatives — but if you don’t, you will need an awful lot of hard work, and luck, to ever pay even a portion of that sort of money back. It will be a millstone around your neck that you could carry for all your life. Instead of earning money to enjoy, you would be earning it to pay back the bank.’

Elleck paused; Rocq stared motionlessly at him, then slowly nodded his head.

‘Of course,’ continued Elleck, ‘you could opt to go bankrupt. If you do that, everything that you own will be taken from you to go towards paying your debts, but beyond that you would owe not a penny more — so that would free you from one millstone. The problem with going bankrupt is your career. You have spent much time qualifying as a metal broker, learning this business. You clearly do well at it, and you know how to make a lot of money out of it. If this — er — unhappy situation were to arise, I would of course have to terminate your employment here. I am afraid, also, that as an undischarged bankrupt — perhaps even as a discharged bankrupt — you would find it very difficult ever to get employment in this field again.’

‘I fully understand, Sir Monty,’ said Rocq. He was thinking hard about Theo Barbiero-Ruche and his coffee. It was thanks to his advice that he was here now; he had just sold 12,000 tons short, again on his advice. If Theo was wrong again, he didn’t want to think of the consequences. In spite of the warmth the alcohol gave him, he felt another chill run through his body.

There was a knock on the door and Elleck’s secretary came in. ‘Are you going to sign your post, Sir Monty?’

‘Leave it, Jane — I don’t think there’s anything urgent. I’ll do it tomorrow.’

‘All right. Is there anything you need?’

‘No thank you, Jane.’

‘Thank you, Sir Monty. Good night.’

‘Good night, Jane.’ He waited until the door was closed and turned to Rocq. ‘Alex, if this company had a million pounds spare, it would pay these debts for you gladly.’

Rocq sat up a little. For the first time since he had come into Elleck’s office, the chairman had lied.

‘But we do not have a million pounds spare.’

Rocq sat up a little further. Elleck had just told his second lie.

‘I am, however, privy to some information that, if acted upon correctly, could enable you to earn that money, and more on top from your brokerage commissions alone.’

Rocq eased himself a little further up; he took another sip of his Scotch, and missed the table completely as he put his glass down. Elleck didn’t appear to notice as it dropped and disgorged its contents into the thick pile of the carpet.

‘Does such information interest you?’

‘Of course it does, Sir Monty.’

‘I thought it might. You are familiar with the name Umm Al Amnah?’

‘Very much so.’

‘You have a very good client from there — Prince Abr Qu’Ih Missh, I believe?’

‘Yes.’

‘His father has recently abdicated, and he has now become the ruler of Amnah.’

‘Yes — that’s right — he is the new Emir of Amnah. Hasn’t done us a lot of good so far — I think he has become too embroiled in his ruling to think much about his metal investing. I do have a £5 million discretionary account for him, but the really large punting he does he likes to instruct directly.’

‘Well — this scheme, in any event, involves not him but his country. In a nutshell, two gentlemen, with whom I am acquainted, have secretly been providing the new Emir Missh with troops and secret police to help him against mounting opposition to his family. Unknown to Missh, at the same time, they have been building a stockpile of nuclear mines in Al Suttoh, the country’s port, on the Persian Gulf. One of these gentlemen has recently added a small fleet of oil tankers to his assets. On a given day, in just over one week’s time, one of these tankers, on its way up the Gulf, will be blown to smithereens by a small atomic explosive. There will be nothing left of it but matchsticks. The crew will all have been taken off earlier, secretly, by helicopter, so there will be no casualties.

‘After the detonation, an announcement will be put out from the Palace of Amnah that the country has placed 400 nuclear mines in the Strait of Hormuz, at the mouth of the Gulf. Unless Israel withdraws completely from all occupied territories and frees all Arab prisoners in its jails, then they will not render the mines safe. Effectively, no shipping will be able to get in or out of the Gulf. Over half the world’s oil supply will be stopped.’ Elleck did a gentle karate chop with the side of his right hand, about halfway up his left arm. ‘There will not have been a crisis like it since Suez,’ said Elleck, almost gleefully. He stood up, and went and refilled Rocq’s glass.

Rocq nodded. ‘Very clever. No one would ever have suspected that a tin-pot country like Amnah could have so much clout.’

‘Precisely,’ said Elleck. ‘So the shock will be all the more severe. Roping Libya in adds clout to the menace, because everyone knows that right now Libya doesn’t move an inch without full Russian approval.’ He sat back and took a pull of his drink. ‘You’re an intelligent fellow, Alex — what do you think the result of all this will be?’