Майкл Ридпат - Fatal Error

‘Guy argued with that for a while, and then Mel suggested that a conditional offer might work. After all, Champion Starsat’s offer is conditional on due diligence, so if Mercia Metro come up with a better deal with the same conditions, the Ninetyminutes board will have to consider it.’

‘What price are they talking?’

‘A valuation of twenty-two million pounds. But Mercia Metro wouldn’t buy the whole company. The idea is that they invest eight million of new money and become a minority shareholder. Guy will still run the show. The strategy will still be all-out growth.’

‘Will Mercia Metro bite?’

‘I don’t think there’s a chance, no. It’s true the Managing Director liked the business, but the Finance Director was sceptical about the practicalities, and he had some pretty good arguments. Also, I suspect they would need a board meeting of their own to authorize the offer, and there doesn’t seem much likelihood of them calling one in time.’

‘So it’s all over?’

‘Not according to Guy. He still thinks they might go for it. He organized a conference call with Clare Douglas and Derek Silverman to discuss accepting a conditional offer. I sat in on it.’

‘Were they receptive?’

‘In a word, no. Silverman said it would be a mistake to throw out a solid deal for a flaky one at this stage. And Clare was adamant that it was unconditional or nothing.’

‘Good for her.’

‘Yes. But she didn’t sound happy about it at all.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘You know Clare. She always seems so cool and in control. Today she sounded tense. Very tense. Almost afraid.’

‘Really? Maybe something else is going wrong at Orchestra. I remember last time I went to see her there she looked stressed. Said something about putting out fires.’

‘Perhaps. Whatever it was, there’s no way she’s going to change her mind.’

‘And you? What did you say?’

‘I voted with Guy.’

‘For appearances’ sake?’

‘Partly. But I have to admit it would be nice if we could bring in Mercia Metro TV as a minority shareholder and Ninetyminutes could continue growing.’

‘It would be very nice,’ I said. ‘But it’s not going to happen. You said it yourself: the Internet doesn’t make money. This is our chance to get out whole. We won’t get another one.’

Ingrid sighed. ‘You’re right, of course. But I can’t help feeling sorry for Guy. He’s a brave man, you know. He’s fighting to the bitter end.’

‘So what happens now?’

‘We wait. Guy sent everyone home, he said there was no point in doing any work. People wanted to stay, but he insisted. It was as if he wanted to be by himself at Ninetyminutes at midnight.’

‘Strange.’

‘Yeah.’

‘What’s he like? Is he holding it together?’

‘In a manic kind of a way. While there’s still hope.’

‘But when the hope goes?’

Ingrid shuddered. ‘Who knows?’

The door buzzer rang. I opened it. It was Clare. A distraught Clare. Her hair was a mess, her grey eyes, usually so cool, were wild, her face was flushed.

I showed her into the living room. Her eyes widened when she saw Ingrid.

‘Don’t worry. Ingrid and I are together.’ I said this without thinking through the implications. It was simply the truth.

Clare’s eyes darted between us. Ingrid smiled reassuringly.

‘OK,’ Clare said, accepting the fact. ‘I need to talk to you.’ She was shaking.

‘Here, sit down. Do you want a drink? A cup of tea. A whisky?’

Clare sank into a sofa. ‘No, it’s all right,’ she said. Then she smiled quickly. ‘Actually, a wee whisky might be a good idea.’

I got her one. Lots of whisky, not much water.

She took a gulp. ‘Thanks.’ She winced at its strength. Her hands were still shaking. ‘I need your help. Henry suggested I talk to you.’

‘Henry?’ I wondered what she could possibly want to talk to me about. Then I knew. ‘You’ve received a threat, haven’t you?’

Clare nodded. ‘Two.’

‘What happened?’

‘Yesterday I got this.’ She handed me a single sheet of A4 that had been folded three ways to fit into a standard office envelope. I read it:

As you know, Ninetyminutes has received an unsolicited offer from Champion Starsat to purchase the company. You should reject this offer in favour of pursuing discussions with other potential investors. In addition, you should make a one million pound bridge loan available to Ninetyminutes until another investor is found. If you don’t reject this offer by midnight on Thursday, you will die. Your colleague, Henry Broughton-Jones, received a similar threat in April. He took the right decision. You should too. By the way, if you contact the police, or anyone else for that matter, you will still die.

The note was unsigned. It had been produced by a computer, of course, but the font was slightly different from the letter Henry had received.

Ingrid was reading it over my shoulder. ‘Oh, my God,’ she whispered.

‘Did you show this to Henry?’

‘Yes,’ Clare said. ‘The bastard told me all about what had happened to him and his family. I can’t believe he let me take Ninetyminutes over from him without warning me. The coward.’

‘He was worried about his family,’ I said.

‘What about me? And he said he’d told you all about it. Why didn’t you let me know what was going on?’

‘I’m sorry. I had promised Henry I wouldn’t. I did try to stop it. I went to France to try to warn Owen off.’ I touched my cheek, where there was still a small scar. ‘Obviously that didn’t work.’

‘Obviously,’ said Clare.

‘So that’s why you sounded so shaken this afternoon?’ Ingrid asked.

‘Absolutely right. I decided to ignore the note. But I was rattled. And then I got this.’

She handed me the printout of an e-mail. This message was much shorter.

You have eight hours. Say no to Champion Starsat or you die. I’m serious.

I tried to decipher the internet routing gobbledegook. The message had been sent to Clare at Orchestra. Where it had come from was impossible to determine: I didn’t recognize any of the forwarding addresses.

‘Will it be possible to trace this?’ I asked.

‘I doubt it,’ said Clare. ‘It’s easy to send anonymous e-mails once you know what you’re doing.’

‘Anonymous?’ I snorted. ‘I don’t know why Owen bothered.’

‘Do you think it is Owen?’ Ingrid asked.

I nodded. ‘I’m sure it’s Owen. It’s a last-ditch attempt to protect Guy.’

Clare shuddered. ‘That man gives me the creeps.’

‘So he should,’ I said.

‘What are you going to do?’ Ingrid asked Clare.

‘I know I’m not going to give in to the threats,’ said Clare, her hand shaking.

‘Henry did,’ said Ingrid.

‘I know Henry did. But I’m not going to. If I do, Orchestra Ventures will lose millions. I’m just not prepared to be responsible for that.’

‘It would be quite understandable if you did pull the deal,’ I said. ‘You should know Owen is quite capable of carrying out his threats. He’s killed at least two people that I know of.’

Clare looked at me, eyes wide. ‘My God, I’ve dealt with some shady people in the past, but never a murderer.’ Then they narrowed. ‘He’s not going to mess me about. I’m not that easy to push around.’

I exchanged glances with Ingrid. Clare was a brave woman, there was no doubt about it.

‘OK,’ I said. ‘That leaves you with three choices. You could say nothing and hope, you could go to the police, or I could go and see Owen.’

‘Last time you did that you nearly got yourself killed!’ Ingrid said.