Jeffrey Archer - Mightier than the Sword

“He packed his things and left a few minutes ago,” said Rushton. “He told us all that he’d resigned and wouldn’t be back.”

“Only minutes before he would have been sacked,” said Sloane. Looking down at the young man, he added, “And you can join him. Make sure you’re off the premises within the hour, and be certain you leave nothing in this room that even hints that Clifton ever existed.”

Sloane stormed back to his office and sat down at his desk. Five more envelopes, all marked Personal , were waiting to be opened.

“I only met Cedric Hardcastle on half a dozen occasions, mostly social,” said Saul Kaufman. “We never did any business, but I’d have liked to, because he was one of the few men in the City who still believed a handshake closed a deal, not a contract.”

“Even a contract won’t necessarily close a deal with the new chairman,” said Seb.

“I’ve never met Adrian Sloane, I only know him by reputation. Is he the reason you wanted to see me so urgently?”

“Yes, sir,” said Seb. “I was looking into a major deal involving Sloane when the chairman had his heart attack.”

“Then take me through the deal slowly, and don’t leave out any details.”

Seb began by telling Mr. Kaufman how he’d taken a phone call from Ralph Vaughan of Savills that had alerted him to what Sloane was up to. And how the following morning, on Cedric’s instructions, he’d travelled up to Shifnal, and how the day had ended with him meeting Mr. Swann and discovering why Sloane was willing to pay way over the odds for a thousand-acre farm in Shropshire.

When Seb came to the end of his story, an enigmatic smile appeared on Kaufman’s face.

“Could it be possible that Mr. Swann has stumbled across something we all missed? We’ll find out soon enough, because the government is expected to announce its findings in the next few weeks.”

“But we haven’t got weeks, only a couple of days. Don’t forget, closing bids have to be in by five o’clock tomorrow.”

“So you want me to outbid Sloane, on the possibility that Mr. Swann has worked out what the government has planned?”

“Cedric was willing to take that risk.”

“And, unlike Sloane, Cedric Hardcastle had the reputation of being a cautious man.” Kaufman placed his hands together as if in prayer, and when his prayer was answered, he said, “I’ll need to make a few phone calls before I come to a final decision, so come back to my office at 4:40 tomorrow afternoon. If I’m convinced, we’ll take it from there.”

“But by then it will be too late.”

“I don’t think so,” said Kaufman.

When Seb left the bank he was in a daze, and not at all convinced that Kaufman would go ahead with the deal. But he had nowhere else to turn.

He hurried home. He wanted to share everything that had happened since he’d left the flat that morning with Samantha. She always saw things from a different angle, often coming out of left field, to use one of her favorite American expressions.

While Sam prepared supper, Seb told her who’d attended the funeral that morning and, more important, who hadn’t, and what Sloane and his cronies had been up to while he was in Huddersfield... and why he was now looking for a job.

When he finally stopped pacing around the kitchen and sat down, Sam said, “But you’ve always known Sloane was a crook, so it shouldn’t have come as a surprise that he’d call a board meeting when everyone who would have opposed him was out of town. I bet your mother would have worked that one out.”

“She did, but by then it was too late. But I still think we can beat Sloane at his own game.”

“Not at his own game,” said Sam. “Try to think what Cedric would have done in the circumstances, not Sloane.”

“But if I’m ever going to beat him, I’ll have to think like him.”

“Possibly, but that doesn’t mean you have to act like him.”

“Shifnal Farm is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.”

“That’s not a good enough reason to crawl around in the same gutter as Sloane.”

“But, Sam, I might never get another chance like this again.”

“Of course you will, Seb. Think long-term, and you’ll understand the difference between Adrian Sloane and Cedric Hardcastle. Because I’m absolutely sure of one thing, very few people will be attending Sloane’s funeral.”

Friday turned out to be the longest day of Sebastian’s life. He’d hardly slept the previous night as he tried to work out what Kaufman was up to.

When Sam left to attend a lecture at King’s, he pottered around the flat, pretended to read a morning paper, spent an inordinate amount of time washing up the few breakfast dishes, even went for a run in the park, but by the time he got back, it was still only just after eleven.

He took a shower, shaved, and opened a tin of baked beans. He continually glanced at his watch, but the second hand still only circled the dial every sixty seconds.

After what passed for a fork lunch, he went upstairs to the bedroom, took his smartest suit out of the wardrobe, and put on a freshly ironed white shirt and his old school tie. He finally polished a pair of shoes until a sergeant major would have been proud of them.

At four o’clock he was standing at the bus stop waiting for the number 4 to take him into the City. He jumped off at St. Paul’s and, although he walked slowly, he was standing outside Kaufman’s bank on Cheapside by 4:25. There was nothing for it but to stroll around the block. As he walked past so many familiar City institutions, he was reminded just how much he enjoyed working in the Square Mile. He tried not to think about being unemployed for any length of time.

At 4:38, Seb marched into the bank and said to the receptionist, “I have an appointment with Mr. Kaufman.”

“Which Mr. Kaufman?” she asked, giving him a warm smile.

“The chairman.”

“Thank you, sir. If you’d like to take a seat, I’ll let him know you’re here.”

Seb paced around the lobby watching another second hand make a larger circle around a larger clock but with exactly the same result. His thoughts were interrupted by a tap on his shoulder and the words, “The chairman is waiting for us in his office. I’ll take you up.”

Seb was impressed that Vic hadn’t said “Dad.” He could feel the palms of his hands sweating, and as the lift trundled slowly up to the top floor he rubbed them on his trousers. When they entered the chairman’s office, they found Mr. Kaufman on the phone.

“I need to speak to a colleague before I can make that decision, Mr. Sloane. I’ll call you back around five.” Seb looked horrified, but Kaufman put a finger to his lips. “If that’s convenient.”

Sloane put the receiver down, picked it up again immediately, and without going through to his secretary dialed a number.

“Ralph, it’s Adrian Sloane.”

“I thought it might be,” said Vaughan, checking his watch. “You’ll be pleased to hear that no one has called about Shifnal Farm all day. So with just fifteen minutes to go, I think it’s safe to assume the property is yours. I’ll give you a call just after five, so we can discuss how you want to deal with the paperwork.”

“That’s fine by me,” said Sloane, “but don’t be surprised if my line’s engaged when you call, because I’m currently involved in a deal that’s even bigger than Shifnal Farm.”

“But if someone was to make a bid between now and five—”

“That isn’t going to happen,” said Sloane. “Just make sure you send the contract round to Farthings first thing on Monday morning. There’ll be a check waiting for you.”

“It’s ten to five,” said Vic.

“Patience, child,” said the old man. “There is only one thing that matters when you’re trying to close a deal. Timing.” He leaned back and closed his eyes, although he was wide awake. He had told his secretary that under no circumstances was he to be disturbed between ten to five and ten past. Neither Vic nor Seb said another word.