Plantation A Legal Thriller

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Plantation A Legal Thriller Page 98

by J M S Macfarlane


  Chapter 98

  “The Aegean Star ?”

  At that stage, all that Wells could hear on the other end of the line was the sound of laughter.

  “Hello ? Hello, Robert ? Are you alright ? What’s so funny ?”

  “I’m sorry.....But are you certain it was the Aegean Star ?”

  “Well, that’s what I was told by the LRE. The Ayrton was sold by its original owners, a British shipping company to what appears to have been a French offshore company, Marchands des Mers, based in Lyons. They bought it in 1978 and re-named it the Aegean Star.”

  “Surely, there can’t have been two Aegean Stars, can there ? If the Aegean Star sank off Cyprus in April 1979, how could it be the same ship as the Marseillaise in Cape Town today ? And what about Hermes ? Where do they fit into all of this ?”

  “Well may you ask. At the moment, I can’t say.”

  “Hermes would have had a marine policy for the Aegean Star when it sank. Do we know who wrote it ?”

  “The LRE told me it was Syndicate 7423. Richard Hardearn was the underwriter. I’ve already spoken to him – he’s waiting for you to ring him at the Cube now.”

  When Ashby rang Hardearn, it was mid-day in London : Hardearn was about to go off for lunch with the brokers to the Bligh & Bounty in Eastcheap.

  “Ashby, you reprobate, I haven’t seen you in years. What on earth are you doing in Cape Town, of all places ? On holiday, I’ll be bound. Never did much work, did you ? Plantation for sale ? Or are you still batting on ?”

  Ten years earlier when Ashby was still at school, his father had sent him to Hardearn’s syndicate at the LRE in the summer holidays to learn about underwriting. On his first morning, Hardearn had asked him whether he drank beer. The seventeen year-old Ashby said that he didn’t frequent pubs as he was under-age. Hardearn had said, “Lad, if you don’t like drinking, you’ll be no good as an underwriter. We’ll have to get you into training,” and because Ashby looked eighteen, the rest of his holidays passed in a blur at the sessions with the brokers. It was the first time he’d blacked out from too much alcohol. Not a lot had changed.

  “Yes, I’m still here, Dick and just as well that I am – I’m trying to recover some of the money you paid on a dud claim.”

  “So they tell me. How did you manage to dig that up, you young hound ? And we thought Hermes Transnational were good clients. Fools, weren’t we ? We settled their claim and paid seven million on the primary layer. The reinsurers copped the rest.”

  “I know. Plantation was one of them.”

  “So, you’ve got policeman plod on the case along with Interpol – we can chase things up here until you get back. And when will that be ?”

  “Possibly sometime next week.”

  “I would recommend you make it earlier – there’s an article in today’s FT about Plantation. Something about a buy-out from Vittorio Gallazone at Specifica – and a rival bid from Weber at Alt Deutsche. It's there for the taking, lad – either an Italian or German owner for you. What luck. If you’re quick, one of them will bail you out. You know of course that you’re persona non grata with the brokers at the moment – actually, I can tell you quite honestly that Plantation is universally detested. Why not pack it in and head off into the sunset ?”

  “No chance. You knew my father – he would never have let Plantation fall into foreign hands and neither will I. Too many British companies today are cowards – they’ve lost the will to survive. By the way, we’ll want a finder’s fee of fifteen per cent if we get anything back from Hermes. That’s only fair.”

  “Listen, old son, you’re a romantic. There’s nothing ‘fair’ in this world – take my word for it. I’ve been around a lot longer than you have. Remember Hardearn’s philosophy – give nowt and expect owt. Well, mustn’t keep the chaps waiting. I always buy the first round. Ring me when you’re back and we’ll go to Farini’s for lunch. If I have to give you a finder’s fee, then you’re paying.”

 

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