Jeffrey Archer - Sons of Fortune

‘What a good idea,’ said Julia, as she ran a finger down the inside of his leg.

‘Congratulations, Mr Russell,’ said Mr Cooke. ‘Your client has secured a fine property which I am sure in the long-term will yield an excellent return.’

‘I agree,’ said Tom, as he wrote out a cheque for three point six million dollars and handed it across to the council’s chief executive.

‘Is Russell’s Bank the principal in this transaction?’ enquired Mr Cooke as he studied the signature.

‘No, we are representing a New York client who banks with us.’

‘I am sorry to appear to be nitpicking about this, Mr Russell, but the terms of the agreement make it clear that the cheque for the full amount must be signed by the principal and not by his or her representative.’

‘But we represent the company, and are holding their deposit.’

‘Then it shouldn’t be too difficult for your client to sign a cheque on behalf of that company,’ suggested Mr Cooke.

‘But why...’ began Tom.

‘It’s not for me to try and fathom the machinations of our elected representatives, Mr Russell, but after the debacle last year over the Aldwich contract and the questions I have to answer daily from Mrs Hunter,’ he let out a sigh. ‘I have been left with no choice but to keep to the letter, as well as the spirit, of the agreement.’

‘But what can I do about it at this late stage?’ asked Tom.

‘You still have until five o’clock to produce a cheque signed by the principal. If you fail to do so, the property will be offered to the under-bidder for three point five million, and the council will look to you to make up the difference of one hundred thousand dollars.’

Tom ran to the back of the room. ‘Have you got your cheque book with you?’

‘No,’ said Julia. ‘You told me that Russell’s would cover the full amount until I transferred the difference on Monday.’

‘Yes I did,’ said Tom, trying to think on his feet. ‘There’s nothing else for it,’ he added, ‘we’ll just have to go straight to the bank.’ He checked his watch, it was nearly four o’clock. ‘Damn,’ he added, painfully aware that if Nat hadn’t been on holiday, he would have spotted the sub-clause and anticipated its consequences. On the short walk from City Hall to Russell’s Bank, Tom explained to Julia what Mr Cooke had insisted on.

‘Does that mean I’ve lost the deal, not to mention a hundred thousand?’

‘No, I’ve already thought of a way round that, but it will need your agreement.’

‘If it will secure the property,’ said Julia, ‘I’ll do whatever you advise.’

As soon as they entered the bank, Tom went straight to his office, picked up a phone and asked the chief teller to join him. While he waited for Ray Jackson to arrive, he took out a blank cheque book and began writing out the words three million six hundred thousand dollars. The chief teller knocked on the door and entered the chairman’s office.

‘Ray, I want you to transfer three million one hundred thousand dollars to Mrs Kirkbridge’s account.’

The chief teller hesitated for a moment. ‘I’ll need a letter of authorization before I can transfer such a large amount,’ he said. ‘It’s way above my limit.’

‘Yes, of course,’ said the chairman, and removed the standard form from his top drawer and quickly filled in the relevant figures. Tom didn’t comment on the fact that it was also the largest sum he had ever authorized. He passed the form across to the chief teller, who studied the details carefully. He looked as if he wanted to query the chairman’s decision, and then thought better of it.

‘Immediately,’ emphasized Tom.

‘Yes, sir,’ said the chief teller, and departed as quickly as he had arrived.

‘Are you sure that was sensible?’ asked Julia. ‘Aren’t you taking an unnecessary risk?’

‘We have the property and your five hundred thousand, so we can’t lose. As Nat would say, it’s a belt and braces job.’ He turned the cheque book round and asked Julia to sign it and print beneath her signature the name of her company. Once Tom had checked it he said, ‘We’d better get back to City Hall as quickly as possible.’

Tom tried to remain calm as he dodged in and out of the traffic while crossing Main Street before jogging up the steps to City Hall. He kept having to wait for Julia, who explained it wasn’t easy to keep up with him in high heels. When they re-entered the building, Tom was relieved to find Mr Cooke was still seated behind his desk at the far end of the hall. The chief executive rose when he saw them heading towards him.

‘Hand over the cheque to the thin man with the bald head,’ said Tom, ‘and smile.’

Julia carried out Tom’s instructions to the letter, and received a warm smile in return. Mr Cooke studied the cheque carefully. ‘This seems to be in order, Mrs Kirkbridge, if I could just see some form of identification.’

‘Certainly,’ said Julia, and took a driver’s licence out of her handbag.

Mr Cooke studied the photo and the signature. ‘It’s not a flattering picture of you,’ he said. Julia smiled. ‘Good, now all that is left for you to do is sign all the necessary documents on behalf of your company.’

Julia signed the council agreement in triplicate and handed a copy over to Tom. ‘I think you’d better hold on to this until the money is safely transferred,’ she whispered.

Mr Cooke looked at his watch. ‘I shall be presenting this cheque first thing on Monday morning, Mr Russell,’ he said, ‘and I would be obliged if it were cleared as quickly as is convenient. I don’t want to give Mrs Hunter any more ammunition than is necessary only days before the election.’

‘It will be cleared on the same day it’s presented,’ Tom assured him.

‘Thank you, sir,’ said Mr Cooke to a man he regularly had a round of golf with at their local club.

Tom wanted to give Julia a hug, but restrained himself. ‘I’ll just run back to the bank and let them know that it all went smoothly, then we can go home.’

‘Do you really have to?’ asked Julia. ‘After all, they won’t be presenting the cheque until Monday morning.’

‘I guess that’s right,’ said Tom.

‘Damn,’ said Julia, bending down to take off one of her shoes, ‘I’ve broken the heel running up those steps.’

‘Sorry,’ said Tom, ‘that was my fault, I shouldn’t have made you rush back from the bank. As it turned out we had more than enough time.’

‘It’s not a problem,’ said Julia, smiling, ‘but if you could fetch the car, I’ll join you at the bottom of the steps.’

‘Yes, of course,’ said Tom. He jogged back down and across to the parking lot.

He was back outside City Hall a few minutes later, but Julia was nowhere to be seen. Perhaps she had slipped back inside? He waited a few moments, but she still didn’t appear. He cursed, leapt out of the illegally parked car and ran up the steps and into the building to find Julia in one of the phone booths. The moment she saw him, she hung up.

‘I’ve just been telling New York about your coup, darling, and they’ve instructed our bank to transfer the three million one hundred thousand before close of business.’

‘That’s good to hear,’ said Tom, as they strolled back to the car together. ‘So shall we have supper in town?’

‘No, I’d rather go back to your place and have a quiet meal on our own,’ said Julia.

When Tom pulled up in his driveway, Julia had already removed her coat, and by the time they reached the bedroom on the second floor, she had left a paper-chase of clothes in her wake. Tom was down to his underwear and Julia was peeling off a stocking when the phone rang.

‘Leave it.’ Julia said as she fell to her knees and pulled down his boxer shorts.