Джеффри Арчер - This Was a Man

‘I still miss my daughter,’ said Harry wistfully.

‘There are times when I’d be only too happy to give you mine,’ said Seb. ‘Last week I caught her trying to slip out of the house wearing a mini skirt, pink lipstick and high heels. I sent her back upstairs to remove the lipstick and change. She locked herself in her room and hasn’t spoken to me since.’

‘What do you know about the boy?’ asked Harry.

‘We think his name is Steve, and we know he’s the captain of the school football team,’ said Sam. ‘So I suspect Jessica is waiting in a long queue.’

‘I don’t think Jessie does queues,’ said Grace.

‘And my other grandchild?’ asked Emma.

‘Jake’s now walking without actually falling over,’ said Sam, ‘and spends most of his time heading for the nearest exit, so frankly he’s a handful. I’ve put on hold any idea of going back to work for the time being, as I can’t bear the thought of handing over the little fellow to a nanny.’

‘I admire you for that,’ said Emma. ‘I sometimes wonder if I should have made the same decision.’

‘I agree,’ said Seb, leaning on the marble fireplace. ‘I’m a classic example of someone who had a deprived upbringing, and ended up depraved.’

‘Gee, Officer Krupke,’ said Harry.

‘I had no idea you were that with it, Dad,’ said Seb.

‘I took your mother to see West Side Story at the Bristol Old Vic on our wedding anniversary. And if you haven’t seen it, you should.’

‘Seen it,’ said Seb. ‘Farthings Kaufman is the show’s biggest backer.’

‘I’d never thought of you as an angel,’ said Harry. ‘And I certainly didn’t see any mention of it in your latest portfolio report.’

‘I put half a million of our clients’ money into the show, but considered it too high a risk for the family, even though I had a dabble myself.’

‘So we missed out,’ said Grace.

‘Mea culpa,’ admitted Seb. ‘You ended up with a 7.9 per cent annual return on your capital, while my other clients managed 8.4 per cent. West Side Story turned out to be a slam-dunker, to quote the American producer, who keeps sending me a cheque every quarter.’

‘Perhaps you’ll put us into your next show,’ said Emma.

‘There isn’t going to be a next show, Mama. It didn’t take much research to discover I’d been blessed with beginner’s luck. Seven West End shows out of ten lose every penny for their investors. One in ten just about breaks even, one makes a worthwhile return, and only one in a hundred doubles its money, and they’re usually the ones you can’t get into. So I’ve decided to quit show business while I’m ahead.’

‘Aaron Guinzburg tells me the next big hit will be something called Little Shop of Horrors ,’ said Harry.

‘Farthings won’t be investing in a horror show,’ said Seb.

‘Why not?’ said Emma. ‘After all, you tried to invest in Mellor Travel.’

‘Still am,’ admitted Sebastian.

‘So what did you invest in?’ asked Emma.

‘ICI, Royal Dutch Shell, British Airways and Cunard. The only risk I took on your behalf was to buy a few shares in a fledgling bus company called Stagecoach, and you’ll be pleased to know one of the founders is a woman.’

‘And they’ve already shown a good return,’ said Harry.

‘I’m also considering picking up a sizeable holding in Thomas Cook, but only if we succeed in taking over Mellor Travel.’

‘I never cared much for Desmond Mellor,’ admitted Emma. ‘But even I felt sorry for the man when I heard he’d committed suicide.’

‘Barry Hammond isn’t convinced it was suicide.’

‘Neither am I,’ said Harry. ‘If William Warwick were on the case, he’d point out that there were far too many coincidences.’

‘Like what?’ asked Seb, always fascinated by how his father’s mind worked.

‘For a start, Mellor is found hanged in his cell during a takeover battle for his company. And at the same time, Adrian Sloane, the chairman of the company, disappears without trace.’

‘I didn’t know that,’ said Emma.

‘You’ve had more important things on your mind,’ said Harry, ‘than reading the Bristol Evening Post , and to be fair, I wouldn’t have known about Mellor either if the local rags hadn’t been obsessed with it. “Bristol businessman commits suicide in high-security prison” was a typical headline. And whenever the chairman of Mellor Travel is asked to make a statement on behalf of the company, all we get is that he’s “unavailable for comment”. Even more curious, Jim Knowles, who’s described as the interim chairman, keeps trying to assure any anxious shareholders that it’s business as usual, and that he’ll be announcing some exciting news in the near future. Three unlikely coincidences, and certainly William Warwick would want to track down Adrian Sloane in case he could throw any light on the mystery of Mellor’s death.’

‘But the governor of Belmarsh was convinced it was suicide,’ said Seb.

‘Prison governors always say that whenever there’s a death on their patch,’ said Harry. ‘So much more convenient than murder, which would mean setting up a Home Office enquiry that could take up to a year to report its findings. No, there’s something missing in this case, although I haven’t fathomed out yet what it is.’

‘Not something,’ said Seb, ‘someone. Namely Mr Conrad Sorkin.’

‘Who’s he?’ asked Grace.

‘A shady international businessman, who until now I’d assumed was working with Sloane.’

‘Does Sorkin run a travel company?’ asked Emma. ‘If he does, I’ve never come across him.’

‘No, Sorkin isn’t interested in Mellor Travel. He just wants to get his hands on the shops and offices the company owns so he can make a quick profit.’

‘That’s one piece of the jigsaw I wasn’t aware of,’ said Harry. ‘But it might explain another coincidence that’s been nagging away at me, namely the role played in this affair by a Mr Alan Carter.’ Everyone in the room stared at Harry in rapt silence, not wanting to interrupt the storyteller. ‘Alan Carter is a local estate agent, who up until now has only played a minor role in this whole saga. But in my view, his evidence might well prove crucial.’ Harry poured himself another cup of coffee and took a sip before he continued. ‘So far Carter has only merited the occasional paragraph in the Bristol Evening News , for example when he told the paper’s crime reporter that Mellor’s Bristol flat was on the market. I assumed he’d done so simply to get some free publicity for his firm and a better price for his client’s property. Nothing wrong with that. But it was his second statement, made a few days after Mellor’s death, which I found far more intriguing.’

‘Turn the page, turn the page,’ demanded Seb.

‘Carter told the press, without explanation, that Mellor’s flat had been sold, but that he had been instructed by his client to hold back part of the sale money in escrow. What I’d like to know is how much he was asked to hold back, and why he didn’t send the full amount to Mellor’s executors and leave them to decide who was entitled to the money.’

‘Do you think Carter will be working on a Saturday morning?’ asked Seb.

‘It’s always the busiest morning of the week for an estate agent,’ said Harry. ‘But that wasn’t the question you should have asked me, Seb.’

‘You are maddening at times,’ said Emma.

‘Agreed,’ said Seb.

‘So what’s the question Seb should have asked?’ said Grace.

‘Who is Desmond Mellor’s next of kin?’

Sebastian was standing outside Hudson and Jones on the Commercial Road at five to nine the following morning. Three agents were already seated behind their desks waiting for the first customers.