Robin Cook - Terminal

The gentleman knew there had been a holdup in forming the new company when Sean and his partners realized they would be undercapitalized. The reason he knew this was because he’d been approached to move to the new company and he’d agreed, only to be informed that there would be a delay until sufficient funds could be raised. From the sound of the gentleman’s voice at this juncture, Sterling understood that the delay had engendered significant ill will between him and the new management.

The final bit of information that the gentleman had delivered was the name of the bank executive at the Franklin who was in charge of the negotiation of the loan for additional start-up capital. Sterling was acquainted with a number of people at the Franklin, but Herbert Devonshire was not one of them. But that was soon to change since it was Herbert whom Sterling was presently on his way to see.

The luncheon had also afforded Sterling an opportunity to observe Tanaka up close. Knowing a considerable amount about the Japanese character and culture, particularly in relation to business, Sterling was fascinated by Tanaka’s performance. Flawlessly deferential and respectful, it would have been impossible for an uninitiated American to pick up the clues that suggested Tanaka clearly despised his lunch companion. But Sterling immediately discerned the subtle signs.

There’d been no way for Sterling to eavesdrop on Tanaka’s meeting with Herbert Devonshire. Sterling had not even considered it. But he wanted to know its location so that he would be able to suggest he did know the content when he spoke to Mr. Devonshire. Accordingly, Sterling had the limousine company’s president order Tanaka’s driver to call it in to him. The president had then relayed the information to Sterling’s driver.

After being tipped off, Sterling had entered City Side, a popular bar in the south building of Faneuil Hall Market. There’d been a chance Tanaka might recognize him from lunch, but Sterling had decided to risk it. He wouldn’t be getting too close. He’d observed Tanaka and Devonshire from afar, noting their location in the bar and what they ordered. He also noted the time Tanaka had excused himself to make a call.

Armed with this information, Sterling had felt confident confronting Devonshire. He’d been able to get an appointment for that afternoon.

After a brief wait that he judged was designed to impress him with Mr. Devonshire’s busy schedule, Sterling was shown into the banker’s imposing office. The view was to the north and east, commanding a spectacular vista over the Boston Harbor as well as Logan International Airport in East Boston and the Mystic River Bridge arching over to Chelsea.

Mr. Devonshire was a small man with a shiny bald pate, wire-rimmed glasses, and conservative dress. He stood up behind his antique partner’s desk to shake hands with Sterling. He couldn’t have been over five feet five by Sterling’s estimation.

Sterling handed the man one of his business cards. They both sat down. Mr. Devonshire positioned the card in the center of his blotter and aligned it perfectly parallel with the blotter’s borders. Then he folded his hands.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Rombauer,” Herbert said, leveling his beady eyes at Sterling. “What can the Franklin do for you today?”

“It’s not the Franklin I’m interested in,” Sterling said. “It’s you, Mr. Devonshire. I’d like to establish a business relationship with you.”

“Our motto has always been personal service,” Herbert said.

“I shall come directly to the point,” Sterling said. “I’m willing to form a confidential partnership with you for our mutual benefit. There is information I need and information your superiors should not know.”

Herbert Devonshire swallowed. Otherwise, he didn’t move.

Sterling leaned forward to bring his eyes to bear on Herbert. “The facts are simple. You met with a Mr. Tanaka Yamaguchi this afternoon at the City Side Bar, not the usual business location, I’d venture to say. You ordered a vodka gimlet and then gave Mr. Yamaguchi some information, a service that while not illegal, is of questionable ethics. A short time later a sizable portion of the monies Sushita Industries keeps on deposit at the Bank of Boston was wire-transferred to the Franklin with you designated as the private banker involved.”

Herbert’s face blanched at Sterling’s words.

“I have an extensive network of contacts throughout the business world,” Sterling said. He settled back in his chair. “I’d very much like to add you to this intimate, very anonymous, but stellar network. I’m certain we can provide each other with useful information as time goes by. So the question is, would you care to join? The only obligation is that you never, ever, disclose the source of any information I pass on to you.”

“And if I choose not to join?” Herbert asked, his voice raspy.

“I will pass on the information about you and Mr. Yamaguchi to people here at the Franklin who have some minor say in your future.”

“This is blackmail,” Herbert said.

“I call it free trade,” Sterling said. “And as for your initiation fee, I would like to hear exactly what you told Mr. Yamaguchi about a mutual acquaintance, Sean Murphy.”

“This is outrageous,” Herbert said.

“Please,” Sterling warned. “Let’s not allow this conversation to dissolve into mere posturing. The fact is, your behavior was outrageous, Mr. Devonshire. What I am asking is a small price to pay for the benefits you will accrue from landing such a customer as Sushita Industries. And I can guarantee I will be useful to you in the future.”

“I gave very little information,” Herbert said. “Entirely inconsequential.”

“If it makes you more comfortable to believe that, that’s fine,” Sterling said.

There was a pause. The two men stared at each other across the expanse of antique mahogany. Sterling was happy to wait.

“All I said was that Mr. Murphy and a few associates were borrowing money to start a new company,” Herbert said. “I gave no figures whatsoever.”

“The name of the new company?” Sterling asked.

“Oncogen,” Herbert said.

“And the proposed product line?” Sterling asked.

“Cancer-related health products,” Herbert said. “Both diagnostic and therapeutic.”

“Time frame?”

“Imminent,” Herbert said. “Within the next few months.”

“Anything else?” Sterling asked. “I should add that I have ways of checking this information.”

“No,” Herbert said. His voice had developed an edge.

“If I learn you’ve deliberately prevaricated,” Sterling warned, “the result will be as if you refused to cooperate.”

“I have more appointments,” Herbert said tersely.

Sterling stood up. “I know it is irritating to have your hand forced,” he said. “But remember, I feel indebted and I always repay. Call me.”

Sterling took the elevator down to the ground floor and hurried over to his sedan. The driver had locked the doors and had fallen asleep. Sterling had to thump on the window to get him to release the rear locks. Once inside, Sterling called his contact at the FAA. “I’m on a portable phone,” he warned his friend.

“The bird’s scheduled to leave in the morning,” the man said.

“What destination?”

“Miami,” the man said. Then he added: “I sure wish I was going.”

“Well, what do you think?” Janet asked as Sean poked his head into the bedroom. Janet had brought Sean out to Miami Beach to see the apartment she’d rented.

“I think it’s perfect,” he said, looking back into the living room. “I’m not sure I could take these colors for long, but it does look like Florida.” The walls were bright yellow, the rug was kelly green. The furniture was white wicker with tropical floral print cushions.