Michael Ridpath - See No Evil

Cornelius sat down. He perched his half-moon spectacles on his nose, picked up one of Edwin’s spreadsheets and studied it. Then he tossed it back on to the table. ‘I know you’ve worked hard at the numbers, Edwin, and I know what they say. Normally I hate to overpay. But sometimes... sometimes you have to take a leap of faith. The Times is a unique property. With us in charge it will be a great one. It’s going to be worth more than a billion in a few years, much more. We took a leap before, with the Herald, remember? That worked. I have a feeling,’ he glanced at his son, ‘no, more than a feeling, a conviction that this is another one of those times. So, yes, Benton, I can make the deal work.’

‘In that case, so can we.’

‘Hold on, Benton,’ Dower interrupted. ‘We need to chat to some people back at the office about this.’

Benton ignored him and returned Cornelius’s stare. ‘You have my word.’

Edwin stalked back to his own office and slammed the pile of papers down on his desk. His father was overreaching himself. Sure, he could get his MBA grunts to alter the assumptions about circulation, advertising rates, cost cutting: 1 per cent here, 2 per cent there, the numbers could be made to add up on paper, but not in real life. In real life the deal wouldn’t work unless Cornelius performed some kind of miracle once he took over the paper. This was possible, Edwin admitted to himself. But it was probable that they just wouldn’t generate enough cash from the business to service their interest payments, and that would bring down not just The Times, but the whole of Zyl News.

If his sister-in-law and Alex bloody Calder didn’t tear the whole thing down anyway.

Edwin didn’t want that. He believed that in the last few years he had made himself indispensable to the company. Cornelius couldn’t carry on much longer; although he still seemed to have limitless energy, he was seventy-two. Todd had practically taken himself out of the picture when he decided to become a teacher, he was certainly out of it now. Zyl News would be Edwin’s in a very few years’ time.

Unless Cornelius bankrupted it through one last misjudged leap.

The phone rang. It was Jeff Hull, his pet journalist.

‘How was our superintendent friend yesterday?’ Hull asked.

‘Very polite, very respectful,’ Edwin said. ‘You could tell his sidekick was itching to ask difficult questions, but he wouldn’t let her.’

‘What did I tell you? There’s nothing that scares a policeman more than a whiff of a paedophile scandal.’

Edwin smiled. ‘You were right. I’ll get your bonus paid into your account tomorrow.’

‘You might want to increase the figure.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I’ve got something else for you, Edwin.’ Hull sounded excited. ‘I’ve been doing a little extra snooping up here in Norfolk and I’ve discovered your brother has a little secret.’

‘Go on.’

‘Did you know he had a squeeze on the side?’

‘No. Talk to me.’

‘Apparently a young, very attractive American woman named Donna was hanging around the hospital for a few days. She would creep in to see Todd when his wife wasn’t there. She said she was a colleague from work, but the nurses had their doubts that that was all she was, especially when his wife discovered her and went ballistic. They didn’t see her around after that.

‘I checked with Todd’s school in New Hampshire. A Miss Donna Snyder is a member of the faculty there. Teaches art, apparently.’

‘Now that’s very interesting.’

‘I thought you’d like it. I don’t know how you want to use that information, but I’m sure you can figure out a way. In the meantime, you can rely on my discretion.’

‘Well done, Jeff.’

‘No problem. But put a little extra on that bonus, won’t you?’

‘I will,’ said Edwin. ‘Good work.’

As he put down the phone, he went through the angles. This kind of knowledge provided leverage. It was a question of where exactly to apply the lever. Edwin knew. He summoned a couple of his strategy grunts into his office to get them to rework the forecasts, and then left the building to grab a taxi across town.

He found Kim where he expected, at Todd’s bedside. In the gleaming private hospital to which he had been transferred, Todd had his own room with television, armchairs, flowers and nice curtains, although the bits and pieces plugged into him looked similar to the equipment in the Norfolk hospital. He was asleep. Kim was sitting in a chair next to him, staring into space through reddened eyes.

She looked up as he came in and gave him the barest trace of a polite smile.

‘How is he?’ Edwin asked.

‘Better,’ Kim said in little more than a mumble. ‘A lot more lucid. But he sleeps a lot.’

‘Good. Can we have a word?’

Kim indicated another armchair.

‘No, not here.’

‘He’s asleep,’ Kim said.

‘I think it would be better to talk somewhere else.’

Kim shrugged and followed him out of the room. They found an unoccupied waiting area down the corridor.

‘I know about Donna Snyder,’ Edwin said.

Kim shook her head, more resigned than angry. ‘Why am I not surprised?’

‘I understand that Alex Calder is in South Africa rooting around into Martha’s death.’

‘So?’

‘I don’t think that’s a good idea.’

‘Why not?’

‘Zyl News is in a delicate position at the moment. Calder might make the position even more delicate. It wouldn’t take much to tip everything over.’

Anger flickered in Kim’s eyes. ‘What are you afraid he might find?’

‘I have nothing to hide,’ said Edwin. ‘But the timing is not good. I think you should ask him to return to England.’

‘I will do no such thing. Someone nearly killed Todd, someone nearly killed Alex’s sister. The answer as to who it is lies in South Africa.’

‘Do the police know about Donna Snyder?’

‘I don’t think so. Why would they be interested?’

‘Oh, I think they’d be very interested. You see they asked my father and me all kinds of questions about you and how much you stood to inherit if Todd died.’

‘They asked me those questions too,’ Kim said. ‘But it was just routine. I don’t think they seriously suspected me .’

‘Not then,’ said Edwin. ‘Because then they didn’t know that your husband was cheating on you.’

‘That wouldn’t make any difference,’ said Kim with contempt.

‘Oh, I think it might,’ said Edwin. Then he had a brainwave. ‘And what about you and Alex Calder?’

‘What about us?’ Kim said, but her face flushed bright red.

Edwin smiled. ‘Tut-tut. While your husband was in hospital, too.’

‘There is nothing going on between me and Alex Calder,’ Kim said, the anger rising in her voice.

Edwin raised his hands. ‘All I’m suggesting is that you get hold of Calder and tell him to come home.’

‘Piss off,’ Kim said.

‘It’s the easy answer,’ Edwin said. ‘It will avoid all kinds of unpleasantness.’

‘I said, piss off!’ Kim was nearly shouting now. ‘Get out of here. I’m going back to Todd.’

She turned on her heel and began walking down the long corridor away from her brother-in-law. ‘I’ll give you a day to think about it!’ Edwin called after her. ‘One day!’

Kim entered Todd’s room and slammed the door behind her.

Calder decided to walk from his hotel near the Victoria and Alfred Waterfront to the cigar bar on Long Street where he was due to meet George Field. It was early evening, and getting dark. Away from the Waterfront the city itself was a mixture of totally different architectural styles: towering modern office blocks, elegant British colonial, concrete government brutalist, pristine white Cape Dutch, colourful African and shabby urban dilapidated. The people too were of many different shapes and colours, whites now a definite minority. And above it all was the mountain, always in sight, its summit currently covered by a thin cloth of cloud.