The Marketmaker

by Michael Ridpath

  He turned to face me. The cool blue eyes looked me up and down, judging me.

  At last he spoke. ‘Why are you telling me this?’

  ‘Because you organized the kidnapping!’ I said. ‘Or if you didn’t, Eduardo did, which amounts to the same thing. And I don’t want you to kill her.’ I was pleading now, begging. But I didn’t know what else to do.

  Ricardo looked right through me, his face stone cold. ‘You have betrayed me. You are trying to sell my company to my biggest rival. And now you come up with some cock-and-bull story about how I arranged the kidnap of one of my own people. I want Isabel to live as much as you do. More, probably. I know nothing about the kidnap, Nick. So I can’t help you. Now, I must get back to work.’

  He stood up and walked quickly back across the square towards the Tower.

  ‘ Well, at least talk to Eduardo about it,’ I said, walking beside him. He ignored me. ‘Eduardo’s got to know what’s going on. Talk to him!’

  ‘Leave me alone, Nick,’ Ricardo said, glancing at me coldly.

  I stopped and watched him as he reached the varnished entrance to the tower complex.

  ‘Ricardo!’ I shouted. ‘You can’t let her die! You can’t!’

  My voice echoed off the squat blocks of offices around me, bouncing off Ricardo’s back as he disappeared inside the huge building.

  I made my slow way back to Dockenbush Farm. Tube, train, and then a walk from the station. It was six o’clock by the time I arrived back there.

  All the way my mind wrestled with my meeting with Ricardo. He had been convincing about his ignorance of Isabel’s kidnap. But then Ricardo was convincing. Always. There was a chance that Eduardo had arranged the kidnap without Ricardo’s knowledge. Perhaps Ricardo would talk to him now. Persuade him not to have Isabel killed. Perhaps tell him to release her.

  I was clutching at straws.

  That evening, I spent ten minutes wolfing down my supper, and mumbled something about more problems with my thesis to Jamie. Then I went back upstairs to stare into space.

  Both Luís and I were confident that Zico would call him at midnight Brazil time, which was four a.m. in England. There was no chance of sleep before then.

  At about eleven, Kate knocked on my door. ‘I just came to say goodnight. I’m off to bed now.’

  ‘Goodnight.’

  She sat on the bed. ‘What is it, Nick? What’s up?’

  ‘Nothing.’

  ‘Of course there is. It’s not just about the takeover, is it? It’s more than that.’

  I blurted it out. ‘Unless I can work out some way of stopping Bloomfield Weiss from taking over Dekker in the next five hours, Isabel will die.’

  ‘But I thought –’

  ‘That she was dead? Well, the good news is that she isn’t. The bad news is that she soon will be,’ I muttered bitterly.

  ‘But why would the kidnappers care about whether Dekker gets taken over?’

  I told her my theories about Ricardo and Eduardo.

  She listened in shock. ‘I can’t believe it!’

  ‘Can you think of any other explanation?’

  Kate frowned, and shook her head. ‘So what are you going to do?’

  ‘Wait for the deadline.’

  ‘Oh, God. I suppose you’ve spoken to Bloomfield Weiss?’

  I nodded.

  ‘And they took no notice?’

  I sighed and nodded again.

  ‘What about Ricardo?’

  ‘That was where I went this afternoon. He was very tight-lipped. He denied any knowledge of the kidnap and walked off.’

  ‘Do you believe him?’

  I shook my head. ‘You know how plausible Ricardo can be.’

  ‘Oh.’ She thought for a moment. ‘What about Andrew Kerton?’

  I stared at her.

  ‘Well, presumably he has to agree to a sale?’ she said. ‘Have you spoken to him?’

  ‘Christ! No, I hadn’t thought of that.’ Then I frowned. ‘He’d be hardly likely to call off the deal for me, would he? I mean, this is his only chance to sell.’

  ‘You won’t know until you try.’

  I looked at my watch. A quarter past eleven. Just under five hours to go till Zico’s deadline.

  ‘Do you know where he lives?’ I asked Kate.

  ‘No idea. But you can try Directory Enquiries.’

  ‘I bet he’s ex-directory.’ I tried. He was.

  ‘Jamie might know,’ said Kate. ‘I think he’s been to his house before.’

  ‘I want to keep Jamie out of this,’ I said.

  ‘I don’t think you have a choice.’

  Jamie was drying up dishes in the kitchen. ‘Jamie, do you know where Lord Kerton lives?’ I asked breathlessly.

  He turned and frowned. ‘Why do you want to know?’

  ‘Oh, come on Jamie, just tell us,’ Kate implored.

  ‘Somewhere in Kensington Square, I think. I forget the number.’

  ‘Come on, Nick. I’ll drive you,’ said Kate.

  Jamie put down the glass he was wiping. ‘What’s going on?’ he asked.

  ‘Tell you later,’ said Kate, and I followed her out of the front door.

  26

  It took us three-quarters of an hour. Kate drove fast and there wasn’t much traffic. Kensington Square is a quiet gathering of large houses just to the south of Kensington High Street. We had no idea which one was Lord Kerton’s.

  An old envelope was lying in the back of Kate’s car. I took it, stuffed the car manual into it, and picked a house at random. I rang the bell. After a couple of minutes, a grey-haired man in an old dressing gown answered. He didn’t seem at all bothered about being disturbed at midnight.

  ‘Can I speak to Lord Kerton?’ I asked.

  ‘I’m afraid you’ve got the wrong house. He doesn’t live here.’

  ‘Oh. I’m sorry, sir. I have an urgent message for him,’ I said, brandishing the unopened end of the envelope. ‘Can you tell me which is his house?’

  ‘Four doors down,’ said the man helpfully, pointing.

  I thanked him, and headed for Kerton’s house. Kate saw me and climbed out of the car.

  ‘It’s OK. I can do this myself,’ I said.

  ‘He’ll be more likely to listen to the two of us.’

  She was right.

  I rang the doorbell. It was answered quickly. Kerton was wearing old green trousers and a striped cotton shirt. No shoes, just socks.

  He frowned as he saw me, his expression one of deep distaste. ‘What the hell do you want?’

  ‘Can we come in, sir?’ I asked.

  ‘No. Bugger off.’

  He tried to shut the door. I leaned into it. ‘Please. Just five minutes.’

  ‘I said bugger off. Or I’ll call the police.’

  Kate squeezed between us. She was a lot shorter than both of us, but she looked determinedly up to Kerton’s chin. ‘If you throw us out, Isabel Pereira will die.’

  This made him pause for a moment. ‘So she’s still alive?’

  ‘Yes. For the time being.’ said Kate.

  He thought for a moment. He obviously looked on Kate more kindly than me. ‘Well, I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about, but you’d better come in.’

  He led us up some stairs to a large, comfortably furnished sitting room on the first floor.

  ‘Sit down,’ he said, gesturing to the sofa.

  He swiftly picked an open novel off an armchair and placed it face down on a small table. I just caught a glimpse of the cover: it was one of Terry Pratchett’s Discworld books. He saw I saw and reddened slightly.

  ‘Now, explain what you want, and go.’

  He looked tired. It wasn’t just the hour: he looked worn down. Seeing his company fall apart around him must have taken its toll.

  ‘Do you know Isabel?’ I asked.

  Kerton nodded. ‘Yes, vaguely. She’s quite, ah, noticeable.’

  I wasn’t surprised that Kerton appreciated Isabel’s charms, most men
would, but it was a good sign.

  ‘Well, as you know, she was kidnapped last month. It looked like she’d been killed, but it turns out that her kidnappers were just hiding her. Yesterday her father received a threat that unless the Bloomfield Weiss takeover of Dekker Ward was called off, she would die. Luís Pereira and the kidnap specialist who advises him take this threat very seriously. So do I.’

  Kerton was listening. ‘What do these kidnappers care about the takeover?’

  ‘I think it highly likely that Eduardo Ross was behind Isabel’s kidnapping.’

  ‘No! Do you have proof?’

  ‘No firm evidence, no. But, as you say, why the interest in Dekker’s future?’

  ‘I don’t believe Eduardo Ross would do something like that,’ Kerton said, with a primness that sounded ridiculous.

  Kerton knew Eduardo. Anyone who knew Eduardo knew he just might be capable of kidnapping.

  I raised my eyebrows.

  ‘OK,’ said Kerton. ‘But how did Eduardo find out about the takeover? I thought we’d kept Ricardo out of it.’

  I shrugged. ‘Leaks.’

  ‘Hum. What do you expect me to do?’

  ‘Call the deal off.’

  Kerton frowned. ‘I can’t. You know that. Dekker Ward is insolvent. If I sell to Bloomfield Weiss, the firm might survive in some form, and I just might get some value out of it. If that deal goes away, I’ll have to call in the receiver.’

  ‘Well, can’t you delay it? Manufacture some problem. Something to give us more time.’

  ‘I don’t have much time. If the market moves down any further the deal will fall through. I can’t afford to wait and risk that happening. Anyway, what would you do with a few more days?’

  I had been thinking this through in the car on the way to Kerton’s house.

  ‘Find out who kidnapped Isabel, and get her released.’

  ‘But if the Brazilian police haven’t been able to find her kidnappers over the last couple of months, why should you be able to find her now?’

  ‘Because now we know her kidnapping is linked to Dekker Ward. It’s likely that Ricardo or Eduardo Ross is involved. It will make it easier to track her down.’

  Kerton sighed. ‘Look, I’m sorry about Isabel, but there’s really nothing I can do. I have no choice.’

  ‘ Yes, you do!’ said Kate. The forcefulness of her tone grabbed Kerton’s attention. ‘If you don’t call the deal off and Isabel is murdered, you’ll have her death on your conscience for the rest of your life. You’ll never be able to forget it. Sure, when you look at your bank statement and see a few million more on it, you’ll remember why you let her die. But that won’t give you satisfaction. You’ll feel as guilty as hell.’

  That rattled him. ‘Look. I’m not the one who’s killing her,’ he protested. ‘It has nothing to do with me.’

  Kate shook her head. ‘It has everything to do with you.’

  Kerton glared at me. ‘Why should I do this for you? You were the one who got Bloomfield Weiss involved in the first place.’

  ‘It isn’t for him, it’s for Isabel,’ Kate said. ‘Look, I know you don’t know anything about all of this, but you are chairman of Dekker Ward. This is your responsibility.’

  Kerton stood up. He strode across to the large window overlooking the garden in the middle of the square. Kate and I watched him. We could see the tension in his back and shoulders.

  He turned round, and ran his hands through his hair. ‘I can’t call the whole deal off. Bloomfield Weiss are giving me their offer tomorrow. But, if you like, I’ll put off responding until Monday.’

  ‘Wednesday.’

  Kerton glanced at me in irritation. ‘All right, Wednesday. But next Wednesday morning I will accept Bloomfield Weiss’s offer, provided it’s a reasonable one. And I hope you will have found Isabel by then.’

  ‘Thank you,’ I said. Kate smiled at him. She was right, he wasn’t all bad. ‘Can you give us your number here? In case we need to contact you.’

  Kerton went over to the table by the phone, scribbled a number on a piece of paper and gave it to me.

  ‘Oh, one other thing,’ I said. Kerton frowned. It was clear he wanted to get rid of me. ‘Can I use your phone?’

  The frown deepened.

  I checked my watch. One o’clock, or nine o’clock in the evening in Brazil. ‘I need to let Isabel’s father know so that he can tell the kidnappers there’s been a delay.’

  Kerton shrugged and nodded.

  I moved over to the phone, and dialled Luís’s number. I got through first time, and Luís picked up the phone straight away.

  ‘Alô.’

  ‘Luís, it’s Nick. I’ve spoken to Lord Kerton, chairman of Dekker Ward. He says he will delay accepting Bloomfield Weiss’s offer until next Wednesday.’

  ‘Thank God,’ he said, with relief. And then the worry returned. ‘What do we do then?’

  ‘I said we’d find Isabel.’

  ‘And how do we do that, Nick?’

  Kerton was watching me. ‘Let’s think about that tomorrow, shall we? But call me after the kidnappers have been in contact.’

  ‘I will.’

  I put the phone down.

  ‘You don’t have a clue where she is, do you?’ said Kerton.

  I smiled and shrugged.

  For the first time, he smiled back. ‘Well, good luck.’

  Kate drove us straight back to Bodenham. ‘Thank you,’ I said. ‘If it hadn’t been for you, I don’t think he would have gone along with it.’

  ‘But he did.’

  ‘Right.’

  ‘So what are you going to do now?’

  ‘Wait for Luís to call back. Go to bed. Sleep. Then think.’

  It was after two by the time we arrived home. Jamie was still up waiting for us. The television was on, and a whisky glass and tumbler were by his chair.

  He stood up, agitated. ‘What’s going on?’

  ‘We needed to see Lord Kerton about something.’

  ‘What? See him about what?’

  I shrugged.

  ‘Look, he’s the chairman of my employer. You can’t just go and “see him about something” without telling me what it is, Kate!’

  Kate stood in anguish in the middle of the sitting-room floor. She glanced at me. I nodded. I couldn’t expect her to hide it from Jamie any more.

  She walked over to the sofa, and flopped into it. Jamie sat down again next to his whisky glass. I remained standing.

  ‘We were asking Andrew Kerton to delay selling Dekker Ward to Bloomfield Weiss until next Wednesday,’ she said, in a quiet voice.

  ‘Sell to Bloomfield Weiss! What are you on about? Bloomfield Weiss aren’t about to buy Dekker.’

  Kate nodded. ‘Yes, they are. They’ve been in secret negotiations with Andrew for the last couple of weeks.’

  ‘God.’ Jamie slumped back into his chair. ‘And what have you two got to do with it?’

  I swallowed. ‘It was my idea,’ I said.

  ‘Your idea?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Ricardo deserved it.’

  Jamie still looked shocked. ‘I can’t believe you did this!’ He looked at Kate. ‘And you knew all about it?’

  ‘I only found out a couple of days ago.’

  ‘And you didn’t tell me?’

  Kate avoided Jamie’s eyes.

  ‘This is incredible! How can you do this to me, both of you?’ As the shock wore off, the anger grew.

  ‘Look, Jamie,’ I said, in as reasonable a tone of voice as I could muster, ‘Dekker are in big trouble. They might well go bust. If Bloomfield Weiss take them over, you’ll keep your job.’

  ‘That’s not the point!’ Jamie stood up and began pacing up and down the room. ‘We’re a team! And, like it or not, Nick, we’re Ricardo’s team. You would be breaking us up.’

  Now I got angry. ‘You’re sounding just like Ricardo! He’s not some victim of the financial establishment, and neither ar
e you. He’s a very wealthy man, who’s made money from screwing all those around him. Including me!’

  Jamie glared at me. I glared back. I tried to control myself. ‘Isabel has been kidnapped by someone who wants Dekker to remain independent. That someone has threatened that if Dekker is taken over, she will die. Now don’t tell me Ricardo isn’t behind that somehow or other!’

  Jamie was silent, thinking through what I had just said. In the end, he spoke. ‘Nick. I know we’ve been friends, but I can’t have you in my house while you’re plotting with Bloomfield Weiss against Ricardo.’

  ‘Jamie!’ Kate protested.

  ‘I’m sorry, Kate, but you shouldn’t have helped him.’

  ‘I was only trying to stop that poor girl from being killed!’

  Jamie ignored Kate, and turned to me. ‘I want you to leave,’ he said.

  ‘He can’t. He hasn’t got anywhere to go!’ Kate cried.

  ‘Well, I want you out next week, and the less I see of you in the meantime the better.’ With that he left the room, and I could hear his heavy step clumping up the stairs.

  Kate looked at me wide-eyed. She bit her lip. ‘Nick, I’m sorry.’

  ‘No, I’m sorry,’ I said. ‘Go up to him. It’s important you go with him.’

  She nodded and followed him up the stairs.

  I sat alone in the dimly lit room. I fetched another glass, and poured myself some of Jamie’s whisky.

  I should have anticipated Jamie’s reaction. He was a loyal Dekker man. I had always put this loyalty down to greed, or at least ambition – the ambition to make a fortune, which was almost the same thing. But it was more than that. Jamie was one of Ricardo’s people. He was what I would have become if I had stayed there. Ricardo looked after his people well, and expected total loyalty. In Jamie’s case he’d got it.

  Jamie had always liked to follow the doctrine of whatever institution he was in. At seventeen, he had become the embodiment of the public-school virtues, and was rewarded by becoming head-boy. At Oxford, he had led a successful university career in social and sporting terms, if not quite academically. At Gurney Kroheim, he had been able to don the mantle of the stuffy merchant banker whenever it was required by his colleagues or his customers. And now at Dekker he was keen to follow Ricardo’s rules and do well by them. So far he seemed to be succeeding.