Pat listened with interest. ‘I wish Dave would tell me about these things. All I usually hear about is sales targets, meetings and deals.’
‘Does he talk much about work at home?’
‘Yes, he does. It’s very important to him. He thinks about it all the time.’
That seemed to be a condition that affected everyone at FairSystems, I thought. Even I was in danger of catching it.
‘So what do you do?’
‘I help run a hostel for homeless people over at the top of Leith Walk.’
‘Really?’ I was taken aback.
‘Yes. Well, they’re not all homeless. But they’re all helpless. Many of them just can’t manage to run their own lives.’ She saw my expression, and laughed. ‘It’s not that extraordinary, you know.’
‘No, I know it isn’t,’ I replied in confusion. ‘But it’s just – ’
She interrupted. ‘You can’t imagine Dave’s wife doing that sort of thing?’
‘I suppose not,’ I admitted.
‘Well, there’s probably a lot you don’t know about Dave,’ she said.
‘Oh yes?’ I was curious.
‘Yes. We met in Uganda about nine years ago.’
‘What were you doing there? What was he doing there?’
‘Dave was doing some work for the World Bank, and I was a volunteer working for Oxfam. That whole region was suffering from terrible drought.’
‘I didn’t know David worked for the World Bank.’
‘Oh yes. He was very idealistic. He’d just done a master’s in Development Economics at Sussex University. He was convinced that if the developed world just thought hard enough about third-world poverty, it would go away. And he wanted to show them how.’
‘Quite an ambition.’
‘Yes. But a noble one.’
‘And you? Why did you go out there?’
‘I just couldn’t sit about while people starved,’ she said, smiling shyly, as if embarrassed by the simple sentiment she was expressing. ‘I still can’t.’
There was a brief lull in the conversation at the other end of the table. David overheard what we were saying.
‘Is she telling you about Africa?’ he asked, also looking a little embarrassed.
‘Yes,’ I said. ‘I’m impressed.’
‘Well you shouldn’t be,’ said David. ‘I was an idealist then. I thought I could solve the world’s problems. Now, I know there’s no point.’
‘There must be some point, surely?’ I protested.
David shook his head. ‘Aid goes on three things: weapons, bribes, and expensive lifestyles for aid-workers. Hardly any of it gets through to the poor, and when it does, they just spend it on booze and food and forget all about growing their own crops. It’s depressing.’
I looked at David’s wife. She showed no reaction; she had obviously heard it all before. David followed my eyes.
‘Don’t get me wrong, you always need aid-workers. Pat has saved more lives than I’ve sold computers. Someone has to deal with the victims of society’s failings. But you can’t change things. So the important thing is to go out and get what you can for yourself.’ Here was Harvard talking. I had heard it before. ‘Well that’s what all you guys in the City do, isn’t it?’ David said defensively. ‘Play with money. Earn big bonuses. Spend them.’
He was, of course, right. I had no business criticising him.
There was an embarrassed silence. Pat got up to get the next course. Annie asked Willie where his Porsche was. A sore point, that. He had given up his Price Waterhouse Cavalier to join FairSystems, and had had to content himself with a six-year-old Renault 5 since then.
Pat returned with a delicious stew. It took me a few minutes to notice that there wasn’t any meat in it. I suspected David’s vegetarianism had gone the way of his other ideals.
A lively conversation had started between David and Annie. I took the opportunity to try to find out more about him.
‘How do you find life as a corporate spouse?’ I asked Pat, quietly.
She smiled. ‘I try to avoid corporate entertaining,’ she said. ‘This is the first time for a while.’ She sighed. ‘The whole corporate thing was difficult to adjust to at first, especially when Dave was at IBM. But basically I lead my life and he leads his. He has always been very single-minded. He wants success badly, and I’m sure he’ll get it.’
There was no trace of bitterness in her voice, just honesty. I wasn’t sure why she was prepared to be so open about her husband to his boss, however temporarily I might hold that role, but I wanted to take advantage of it.
‘Did David like my brother?’
Pat didn’t answer straight away, and I thought for a moment I had gone too far.
‘I liked him when I met him,’ she said. ‘In fact you two are quite alike.’ She paused, choosing her words carefully. ‘I think Dave respected him. He thought Richard was going to go all the way, and Dave wanted to be there with him. Dave took a big risk going to work for FairSystems. With his record at IBM and his MBA, he could easily have taken a much better job at a more prestigious company. But I think he sees FairSystems as his ticket to making a million or two. And he would hate it if that opportunity slipped away.’
‘I hope he’s right,’ I said.
Pat took a gulp of wine. ‘Well, I honestly couldn’t care.’ She lowered her voice. ‘When Dave wants something, he gets it. He’s the most determined person I’ve ever met. I suppose it’s one of the reasons I fell in love with him.’
‘Is that a warning?’ I asked.
She ignored the question, stirring the stew in front of her. ‘Anyone want some more?’
We were in the car, heading back to Glenrothes. Annie had tempted Willie off to a club somewhere in Edinburgh.
‘Did you hear what Pat said to me?’ I asked Rachel. She’d been sitting opposite me, and I was sure she had kept half an ear open to our conversation.
‘Ah ha.’
‘I wonder why she told me so much about David?’
‘I don’t know. She’s always struck me as quite an open person.’
‘But he’s her husband.’
Rachel sighed. ‘Their lives have headed off in different directions. She never acts as though that bothers her, but I bet it does. I bet she hates it. I’d say she doesn’t completely trust her husband, and she wanted you to know it.’
‘Do you know what he and Richard were arguing about before he died?’
‘No,’ said Rachel. ‘There were a few tense moments between them earlier on this year. And then the day before he was killed, they had a huge argument. You could hear it all round the factory. David stormed out. David insists it was about the direction of the firm. He says he wanted to cut prices and Richard didn’t.’
‘And you don’t believe him?’
‘No. I mean it’s quite possible that they disagreed over pricing strategy. But Richard wouldn’t have got worked up over that. It would just have been another problem he would have calmly analysed. No, I’m sure it was something else.’
‘But no idea what?’
She shook her head. ‘Sorry.’
We carried on to Glenrothes. Rachel’s flat was the top half of a grey terraced house five minutes from the factory.
She got out of the car. ‘Thanks for the lift.’
‘Rachel!’ I called after her. She paused. ‘Thanks for taking me to see Alex.’
She smiled quickly, and she was gone.
I spent Sunday alone with my brother in the quiet Scottish fishing village that was his home. When I sat in his sitting room, reading about computers and virtual reality, I felt him standing behind me, looking over my shoulder, ready to explain a point I didn’t understand. It wasn’t an unpleasant feeling, in fact I enjoyed it, in a bitter-sweet kind of way. I felt closer to him then than I had since he had died. Although I was more or less living in his house, I still felt like a visitor. I slept in the small spare room at the back of the house, and I had moved few of Richard’s belonging
s.
After lunch, I walked across the bridge to the little churchyard where I was going to bury him. I spent an hour sitting there, listening to the Inch rushing down to the shore, and hearing underneath it the muted power of the North Sea. The daffodils were dying off, but the trees that lined the burn were budding. The May sun warmed my face weakly, the breeze ensuring that I kept my jersey on.
I remembered the beach in Cornwall that we’d gone to each year as children. It was a secluded cove, nestling amongst towering, jagged cliffs. The shoreline was exciting, rock pools, great boulders to climb, even caves. Richard and I would spend as much time clambering around on the rocks as swimming in the sea.
One day when the tide was out, I had ventured out of sight of the beach round the shoulder of the cliffs along a narrow strip of sand. I discovered a wonderful cave hidden amongst the rocks, and spent half the afternoon exploring it. When I turned to go home, my path was blocked. The tide was coming in, and waves were crashing against the cliffs which I had skirted round a couple of hours earlier. The narrow strip of sand had disappeared. I panicked. I screamed and cried and felt utterly alone. In the end I just curled up in a ball as high up on the rocks as I could get, and watched the sea crash in ever closer.
Then I heard my name, and a scrabbling sound from the cliff above. It was Richard! I shouted back and he heard me. In a few minutes he was down beside me. He put his arm round me. The panic lifted. I was safe. It was tricky climbing back up the cliff, even dangerous, but I wasn’t scared any more.
Now, without him again, I was alone. And once again I was scared.
‘Hello, Richard,’ I muttered into the wind. ‘Are you OK, wherever you are?’ I felt silly, self-conscious, talking to him, but somehow it helped. ‘I miss you. I wish you were coming back.’ I tried to keep my voice even, to stop the tears.
‘What can I do for you, Richard?’
As I asked the question, I knew the answer. I could find out who had killed him, and make sure he was punished. And I could look after FairSystems for him.
The cosy beer-laden fug hit me as I pushed open the door of the Inch Tavern. A murmur of unintelligible conversation came from the group clustered round the bar; I recognised most of the faces. I was pleased to see the trim figure of Sergeant Cochrane leaning against the bar, nursing a pint.
Jim Robertson was welcoming, and he asked after my burn. It was almost two weeks since the fire, and I was no longer wearing a bandage. There was a raw splash of red over the back of my left hand, as my body began the process of repairing itself. I bought a pint and caught Cochrane’s eye. He nodded, and we walked off to the quiet table away from the bar.
‘How are you getting on?’ I asked.
‘Badly,’ said Cochrane. ‘We haven’t got a single firm lead, as far as I know.’
‘How’s Superintendent Donaldson taking it?’
‘Och, he’s a very patient man. He’ll just keep going.’
‘So you haven’t pinned anything on Doogie Fisher?’
‘No. We tried. But nothing.’ Cochrane took a large gulp of beer. ‘Have you got anything for me, son?’
I thought hard before answering. I was quite prepared to share any concrete information with Cochrane, but I didn’t have any hard facts.
‘Not really,’ I said. ‘I’m getting a much better feel for how things work at FairSystems. And I’ve spoken to Doogie Fisher myself.’
‘And?’
‘Well, Doogie and Richard certainly were enemies, and
Doogie admitted he would do anything to stop the development of virtual reality.’
‘Right. He’s got a pretty impressive record as well.’
‘I know he’s been in prison.’
‘He did a two-year stretch for GBH. And there’s a thick file from Special Branch. They’ve been watching him for years. He’s been seen with a lot of unpopular characters. Although he just has the one conviction, our boys think he’s dangerous.’
‘I can believe that!’ I said. ‘And then there’s David Baker. I don’t think he liked Richard much either, although he won’t admit it.’
‘Aye, they had that row, didn’t they? We haven’t been able to find out what it was about. Baker said it was over the strategic direction of the company, and wasn’t serious.’
‘Well, I’m not sure that’s quite right.’
‘Do you know what it was really about?’
I shook my head, and drank some beer. ‘David’s very ambitious, you know.’
‘So?’
‘Yes, you’re right,’ I sighed. ‘So what? I can’t work out why he would have wanted to kill Richard.’
‘But you have a hunch?’
‘It’s not even that strong,’ I said in frustration. ‘I’ve never met a murderer, I don’t know what one looks like. It’s just I can’t work out who else close to Richard might have done it. I probably shouldn’t have mentioned it.’
‘No, no. Every wee bit helps.’
‘So can you tell me something?’
‘Maybe.’
‘Where were Doogie and David when Richard was killed? And when the boathouse was burned down?’
Cochrane stared into his beer for a moment. ‘I’ll tell you, but don’t let anyone know I did. Donaldson would have my arse. We need some sort of a break here, and who knows, you might just give it to us.’
‘I’ll help you if I can.’
‘Good. Now, Doogie has an alibi for the Saturday your brother died. He was in his flat talking to some of his pals on a computer network. The Internet, I think it’s called. We checked with the network, and they confirmed it.’
‘And David?’
Cochrane leaned forward. ‘David Baker’s a bit more interesting. He was at home all day on Saturday. He says he was preparing a presentation most of the day, and then went for a run. His wife was at work herself till five, so she can’t corroborate what he says.’
‘Interesting,’ I said. ‘And what about at the time of the fire?’
‘Well, that was three in the morning. Everyone was tucked up in bed, weren’t they? Anyone could have put on a pair of slippers, and gone lighting bonfires.’
I thought that over for a moment. ‘But David’s married. I’ve met his wife. She would have known if he’d left the house.’
‘That’s where you’re wrong, laddie,’ said Cochrane.
‘Why?’
‘Because they sleep in separate bedrooms.’
14
I cast my eyes quickly over the legal document in front of me. Twenty minutes in which to read thirty pages. I should just about have time, although I wasn’t sure how much would sink in. Damn David! Why couldn’t he have given it to me on Friday as he had promised?
The basic deal was simple. We would license our simulation management software, FairSim 1, to Onada Industries for them to develop virtual reality games for the massive world entertainment market. We would earn a small royalty on each game sold. I took a gulp of strong black coffee, and checked my watch again. A quarter to nine. Onada would be here in fifteen minutes. I read on, my eyes flicking down the pages.
Whoa! My eyes jarred to a halt. I read and reread the paragraph. I didn’t like what I saw.
We were going to give Onada Industries the source code to FairSim 1.
This seemed to me to be a big mistake. Once we had released our code to Onada then the power in the relationship would be squarely with them. In a year or two they would come up with a different, if similar code, and we would be history. This was dangerous. The source code to FairSim 1 represented the total of FairSystems’ knowledge to date on how to build virtual worlds. It was the heart of the company.
And we were giving it away.
Ten to nine. I picked up the document and strode over to David’s office. He wasn’t there. I called to Susan.
‘Have you seen David?’
‘He’s in,’ she said. ‘I saw him half an hour ago. Isn’t he in his office?’
‘No. Can you phone around and try to tra
ck him down. I need to find him urgently.’
I went back to my desk, and waited, tapping my fingers impatiently. What was David thinking of? Had he deliberately given me the papers late in the hope that I wouldn’t spot the clause? Or was I blowing this out of proportion. Was it in fact a fair price to pay for access to the entertainment market? In the short-term, maybe. In the long-term, no.
Eventually David strolled into my office. It was a couple of minutes past nine.
‘Susan e-mailed the whole company looking for me. What’s up?’
‘I’ve just looked through this,’ I said, holding up the Onada agreement.
‘And?’
‘It gives away the source code for FairSim 1. We can’t do that.’
‘We’re not giving it away, we’re selling it,’ said David patiently. ‘We’ll get a big royalty stream from Onada. It’s a great deal for us commercially.’
‘But then Onada will have all our knowledge about VR. They’ll be able to use it to develop all sorts of stuff of their own. We’ll lose our lead in VR technology.’
‘Look, Mark, don’t worry,’ said David. ‘We’ll still own the code itself. I’ve thought all this through, trust me. This is the product of six months of negotiation, and Onada have brought over a big honcho from Tokyo to close the deal. They’re waiting for us now. Shall we go?’
I clenched my teeth. ‘David, I said I’m not happy with us giving away our source code.’
David was losing patience. ‘Look, Richard and I worked on this for months. This deal could save us financially, and get us a powerful new partner. We can’t afford to let this opportunity slip,’ and he walked out of my office towards the board room.
I followed him in two minds. He was the marketing director, I ought to trust him. Especially since he had conducted these negotiations with Richard.
But I was being bounced, and I didn’t like it.
They were arrayed along the other side of the board-room table, four Japanese in a row. Dark blue or grey suits, white shirts, wild swirling ties. The ties had intricate patterns of leaves, peacocks, bright suns. The effect was spoilt a little by the fact that all four were wearing them. Conformity in rebellion.
Trading Reality Page 19
