*
Fitzwilliams felt as if he had been mugged. He shook his head trying to see things objectively. The first positive note was the realisation his own wealth remained relatively intact. The difference between him and other fallen bankers, he concluded, was that he and his family owned significant blocks of shares in the diverse entities of the banking group, unlike for example Fred the Shred at RBS, who had in simple terms been nothing more than a hugely paid employee of the bank, like most other banking heads. “Including that fucker Hainsworth of City & Colonial,” he mumbled to himself.
That Monday morning he belatedly called James Herring, his longtime friend and lawyer. Herring’s mother had hailed from Cork, which made James fiercely Irish, an ambiguity in view of the fact his father was as English as they came, and who in his time had headed a well-known Oxford law firm.
Herring, a born fighter and strategist, had been astonished when Fitzwilliams recounted the details of his previous day at the Chancellery and the way Fitzwilliams had let himself be drawn into the trap without even consulting him. Perhaps Michael had been stressed by the suddenness of events, or simply too tired after his long journey back from Tanzania, more probably both.
First of all there was the question of legality, whether the takeover was within the rules of law, then came Tarasov, the Yakutneft deal, the role of the Russian government and the charges of fraud and tax evasion, all of which posed the problem of Fitzwilliams’ position as the legal head of bank and the risk of his being accused of aiding and abetting unlawful tax evasion.
Herring would need time and in the meantime suggested to Fitzwilliams he take a break, avoid the press, get away from it all, somewhere where Herring could be easily contact him as he built his case. It would not be easy, City & Colonial was a giant and was backed by the country’s most powerful institutions.
Cornucopia Page 48
