Майкл Ридпат - The Marketmaker

Isabel was obviously thinking the same thing. ‘Let’s go and help Papai,’ she said.

‘What do you mean?’

‘Let’s go to London. Tonight. To help him with his bid tomorrow.’

‘It’s too late, isn’t it? And shouldn’t you rest?’

‘I’ve been resting for weeks. I want to see my father. This is an important time for him. There’s a flight that leaves at about ten o’clock, I think. We’ve plenty of time.’

I grinned. ‘OK. Let’s go.’

The plane arrived at Heathrow airport early the following afternoon, and Luís said he’d meet us. Isabel had bought first-class tickets on the Varig flight and I hadn’t complained. Despite what she’d said about too much rest, she was tired. The excitement of her release had worn her out after her weeks of inactivity. So she slept for the entire flight, while I stayed awake mulling over the last few weeks, and letting my hopes play with the idea of a future with Isabel.

I spotted him first, his domed head rising above the press of people waiting outside customs at Terminal Three. His face lit up with pleasure when he saw Isabel. She ran to him and they embraced. He stroked her hair, and a tear appeared in his eye. Eventually he broke free and shook my hand. Or pumped it, more like. The man I had spent so much time with over the last few weeks, bowing but not broken by the pressure of his daughter’s kidnap, was transformed. It was a pleasure to see.

Luís and Isabel talked excitedly in Portuguese as they made their way to his chauffeur-driven car. But as we sped down the M4 into London, Luís switched to English.

‘I’ve booked you both rooms at the Savoy, where I’m staying. I’ll drop you off there, but then I’ll have to go into the City to put the final touches to our bid.’

‘How’s it going?’ I asked.

‘Pretty well. We’ve hired Gurney Kroheim to act for us. Do you know them?’

They were Jamie’s old firm. They were also one of the foremost British merchant banks, who had built a reputation for advising on international takeovers. Not only would they provide good advice but they should add weight to Banco Horizonte’s bid.

‘They have a good reputation,’ I said.

‘They deserve it. And KBN are tied in. We’ve put together quite a complicated structure with offshore companies and convertible preference shares. It gives KBN economic control of the bond portfolio, without recognizing a loss at Dekker that would wipe out its capital. KBN will end up with twenty per cent of Dekker, and we get the remaining eighty. With KBN behind it, the new Dekker should have better credibility with the markets. And also with the SFA and the Bank of England.’

‘What do KBN think about Dekker’s bond position?’

‘They’re enthusiastic, thank God. The market has been strengthening the last few days. It looks like Congress will abandon the Pinnock Bill.’

‘That’s good news,’ I said.

‘Good and bad. It’s good in that it makes the whole bid less risky. It’s bad in that it makes Dekker Ward more expensive. And Bloomfield Weiss can afford to pay up more than we can.’

‘Oh, I see.’ Bloomfield Weiss’s capital was many times that of Banco Horizonte so they could pay more if they wanted to. But Sidney Stahl did not look the kind of man who would overpay for anything. We were still in with a chance. ‘Have you heard anything from Ricardo?’

‘Nothing. Kerton thinks he’s keeping him in the dark, but we know he knows there’s something going on. I guess he’s just trying to cope with the bond position and hoping that with Isabel’s life under threat we would stop the takeover somehow.’

‘Except that Isabel is free. He’ll know that by now.’

‘Yes,’ said Luís, thoughtfully. ‘I expect he will.’

We were silent for a moment, each one of us thinking what Ricardo would do next. ‘Did you ask Francisco about him?’ Luís inquired eventually.

‘No, I didn’t. Francisco was pretty clever, really. He never admitted any involvement with the kidnapping himself, let alone the involvement of anyone else.’

‘And you just let him go?’

‘Yes,’ I said. ‘I had promised him I would. And, besides, Nelson said it would get very messy with the authorities if we tried to get them to prosecute him.’

Luís sighed. ‘A shame, but I understand. One day I’ll make him pay.’

‘You’ll make Ricardo pay today,’ I said.

Luís chuckled. ‘Ah, yes.’

‘Have you decided how much to bid, Papai?’ Isabel asked.

‘Not yet,’ said Luís. ‘It depends on the strength of the market. We’ll decide just before the auction.’

‘When’s that?’

‘Five o’clock. At Dekker Ward’s office in the City.’

‘Can we come?’ Isabel asked. ‘We’ll keep out of the way.’

‘Of course,’ said Luís. ‘I want you to see this, whether it works or not. Come and meet us at Gurney Kroheim, when you are ready.’

Luís dropped us off at the Savoy. He had booked us into separate rooms, of course.

‘What time shall we meet?’ I asked Isabel. ‘Would you like a rest?’

Isabel smiled that wicked little smile that made my heart melt. She shook her head. ‘Say, two minutes?’

‘I’ll be there,’ I said.

It was an hour and a half before we left the Savoy for the City. We could have stayed there all day, but we didn’t want to miss Luís’s bid deliberations.

Gurney Kroheim’s offices were a hundred yards away from Dekker Ward’s, in the heart of the City. Their meeting room was more like Dekker’s than Bloomfield Weiss’s. A couple of baronets in top hats watched over the route to the room, but once there, the pictures were Victorian landscapes, originals subtly illuminated. The room gleamed with polished wood. But there was no chance of ever mistaking Gurney Kroheim’s offices for a country house. Most of the great and good of British industry had certainly visited here, but to do battle with each other, to eat and be eaten.

The room was crowded. Luís was sitting next to one of his partners, Sergio Prenzman, who had borne the brunt of the work of putting the bid together while Luís was distracted by Isabel’s kidnap. Next to him were two earnest associates who had spent night after night feeding numbers into computers. Also round the table were two Dutch bankers from KBN, a couple of lawyers, and a team of three from Gurney Kroheim, led by a director, Charles Scott-Liddell.

Luís introduced his daughter with pride, and me with thanks as the man who had secured her release. There were broad smiles all round. As well as working for Luís, it was clear that these City professionals liked him.

‘You’ve arrived at a good time,’ Luís said. ‘We’re just about to discuss the price.’

We sat at two empty chairs at the other end of the long board table. All eyes were turned to Luís.

‘So, Charles, what have we got?’

Scott-Liddell, every inch the smooth merchant banker, examined the sheets of figures in front of him.

‘Well, we’ve plugged today’s market prices for the bond portfolio into the model. As we suspected, it makes quite a difference. Using method one we get a valuation of sixty-three million pounds, and using method two...’ he paused as he flipped through the papers in front of him ‘... seventy-two million.’

Things had moved on from the twenty million that had been talked about the previous week. The market must have improved, I thought.

Sergio butted in. ‘I’m much happier with method one than method two. I don’t trust these discounted cash-flow valuations for a stockbroker. They make no sense to me.’

Luís smiled. ‘I know, Sergio. But an opportunity like this will only come once. If we can get Dekker Ward, Banco Horizonte will become the first truly international investment bank in Latin America. That has to be worth something. What did we say was the maximum we could afford?’