“Why?” said Hakim. “The tapes prove that Sloane organized the planting of the drugs, and Mellor covered his expenses. And not satisfied with that, they’re now trying to set me up a second time using a doctored tape to leave the impression I was involved in insider trading.”
“True, but the committee may feel that by secretly taping them, you’ve also broken the law. And they certainly wouldn’t condone that.”
“Are you suggesting I shouldn’t use the tapes to clear my name?”
“Yes, because in this case, the means do not justify the end. Anyone who hears those tapes will know they were acquired without the knowledge of the participants, which would make them inadmissible in a court of law. In fact, it could well be you who ends up being referred to the DPP.”
“But if they’re allowed to present their damning fake tape to the committee and I’m not able to show what they’ve been up to, at best I’ll have to spend another year defending myself, and at worst, I’ll end up losing my banking license.”
“That’s a risk I’d be willing to take if the alternative is being compared to those two scumbags,” said Arnold. “And for what it’s worth, that’s my advice. Of course, you’re free to ignore it. But should you decide to go down that road, I fear I won’t be able to represent you on this occasion. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m expected back in court at ten.”
Hakim remained silent until Arnold had closed the door behind him.
“What do I pay that man for?”
“To give you his considered judgment,” said Sebastian. “Which might not always be what you want to hear.”
“But surely you agree with me, Seb, that I should be able to defend myself?”
“That wasn’t the point Arnold was making. He simply feels that the way you went about acquiring the tape leaves you open to being accused of being no better than Sloane and Mellor.”
“And you agree with him?”
“Yes, I do, because I only have to ask myself what Cedric would have done, if he was still sitting in your chair.”
“So I’m expected to suffer another year of humiliation?”
“I’ve suffered for fifteen years because I didn’t listen to Cedric’s advice, so I can only recommend you listen to his son.”
Hakim pushed his chair back, stood up and began to pace restlessly around the room. He finally came to a halt in front of Seb. “If you’re both against me—”
“Neither of us is against you. We’re on your side, and only want what’s in your best interests. You could of course call Ross and get a third opinion.”
“I don’t need to call Ross to know what his opinion would be. But what am I expected to do when a member of my own staff delivers that tape to the Bank of England and tells the committee he felt it was no more than his duty to report me?”
“Think like Cedric, be advised by Arnold, and in the end you’ll defeat the bastards.”
* * *
An elderly gentleman shuffled slowly out of the wings, a walking stick in each hand. He came to a halt in the center of the stage and peered down at the packed audience.
“Mr. Mayor, ladies and gentlemen,” he began, “this is a day I’ve been looking forward to for over forty years. Forty-two to be precise, and there were times when I didn’t think I’d live to see it. Hallelujah!” he shouted, looking up to the skies, which was greeted with laughter and applause. “But before I ask Samantha Sullivan to open the theatre named after her, can I say how delighted I am that Sebastian Clifton was able to join us today. Because without his unstinting support and encouragement, this theatre would never have been built.”
The audience burst into applause a second time, as Maurice Swann looked down at his benefactor, who was seated in the front row.
“Why didn’t you tell me you’d honored your agreement?” whispered Samantha as she took Seb’s hand.
Sebastian had wondered how he would feel about Samantha after the intervening years. Would the memory of things past evaporate into thin air? Or would he … He need not have worried because, if anything, he fell more in love with her “the second time around.” Sam had lost none of her allure, her tenderness, her wit or her beauty. His only fear was that she might not feel the same way. Jessica didn’t help with her less-than-subtle hints that it was high time her parents got married.
“I now invite Samantha to join me on stage to perform the opening ceremony.”
Samantha walked up the steps onto the stage and shook hands with the former headmaster. She turned to face the audience, hoping they wouldn’t be able to see how nervous she felt.
“I’m so honored to have a theatre named after me,” she began, “especially as I’ve never been a good actress and am terrified of public speaking. But I have to say how proud I am of the man who has made it all possible, Sebastian Clifton.”
When the applause had finally died down, Mr. Swann handed Samantha a large pair of scissors. She cut the tape that stretched across the stage and the whole audience rose to their feet and cheered.
For the next hour, Samantha, Sebastian and Jessica were surrounded by teachers, parents and pupils who wanted to thank them for all Mr. Clifton had done. Sam looked up at Seb and realized why she had fallen in love with him a second time. Gone were the rough edges of greed, replaced with an understanding of what the other side had the right to expect. Seb kept telling her how lucky he was to have been given a second chance, whereas she felt—
“You can see how much this means to the entire community,” said Mr. Swann. “If there’s ever anything I can do to show my appreciation, just—”
“Funny you should mention that,” interrupted Jessica. “Pops told me you used to be a director.”
“Yes, but that was a long time ago.”
“Then I’m going to have to bring you out of retirement to direct your swan song.”
“That was an awful pun, young lady. What do you have in mind?”
“I want you to put my mom and pops back on stage.”
The old man turned and walked slowly up the steps and onto the stage.
“What’s she up to?” whispered Samantha.
“I have no idea,” said Seb. “But perhaps it would be simpler just to indulge her.” He took Sam’s hand and led her up onto the stage.
“Now, I want you center stage, Seb,” said Mr. Swann. “Samantha, you stand facing him. Sebastian, you will now fall on one knee, look adoringly up at the woman you love and deliver your opening line.”
Seb immediately fell on one knee. “Samantha Ethel Sullivan. I adore you and always will,” he said, “and more than anything on earth I want you to be my wife.”
“Now you reply, Samantha,” said Swann.
“On one condition,” she said firmly.
“No, that’s not in the script,” said Jessica. “You’re meant to say, ‘Get up, you idiot. Everyone is staring at us.’”
“This is when you produce the little leather box,” said Swann. “Samantha, you must look surprised when he opens it.”
Sebastian took out a small red box from his jacket pocket and opened it to reveal an exquisite blue sapphire surrounded by diamonds that Sam hadn’t seen for ten years. Her expression was one of genuine surprise.
“And now your final line, Mom, if you can remember it.”
“Of course I’ll marry you. I’ve loved you since the day you got me arrested.”
Seb stood up and placed the ring on the third finger of her left hand. He was about to kiss his fiancée when Samantha took a pace back and said, “You lot have been rehearsing behind my back, haven’t you?”
“True,” admitted Swann. “But you were always going to be our leading lady.”
Seb took Samantha in his arms and kissed her gently on the lips, which was greeted with a spontaneous burst of applause from an audience who had been sitting on the edges of their seats.
“Curtain!” said Mr. Swann.
* * *
Sir Piers Thornton, the chairman of the court at the Bank of Eng
land, wrote to the chairman of Farthings Bank to invite him to appear before the Ethics Committee. He detailed what the bank wished to discuss with him, and enclosed a copy of the tape recording as well as the evidence given by one of the bank’s brokers, which had been given in camera. The committee offered Mr. Bishara four weeks to prepare his case and recommended that he had a legal representative present.
Arnold Hardcastle replied by return of post that his client would prefer to appear before the committee as soon as was convenient. A date was agreed.
* * *
On the car journey back to London, Sebastian told Samantha about the contents of the damning faked tape and the problem Hakim was facing.
“Cedric would have agreed with your advice,” said Sam, “just as I do. Sloane and Mellor are obviously both crooks, and Mr. Bishara shouldn’t need to lower his standards to theirs to prove he’s innocent.”
“Let’s hope you’re right,” said Seb, as he turned onto the new motorway. “Hakim will be appearing in front of the Ethics Committee next Wednesday and he hasn’t got much more to rely on than his good name.”
“That should be more than enough,” said Sam. “After all, it will be obvious he’s telling the truth.”
“I wish it were that easy. Mellor and Sloane nearly got away with it last time, and if Hakim can’t prove the tape has been doctored, things could go badly wrong for him. And worse, the four tapes that prove Hakim’s innocence have somehow disappeared from the storeroom.”
“So they’ve got someone working on the inside.”
“A commodity trader called Gavin Buckland, who’s already given evidence to the committee. He told them that—”
“Mom?”
“I thought you were asleep,” said Sam as she looked around to see her daughter curled up on the backseat.
“How could I get any sleep with you two chattering away.” She sat up. “So let me see if I’ve fully understood the situation, because it’s clear to me, Mom, that you haven’t been paying attention.”
“Out of the mouths of babes…” said Seb.
“So what is it you think I’ve missed, Jessie?”
“For a start, why don’t you tell Pops about Professor Daniel Horowitz?”
“Who’s he?” asked Seb.
“A colleague of mine at the Smithsonian, who … of course, how dumb of me.”
“I sometimes wonder if either of you is really my parent,” said Jessica.
42
THE FOUR OF them sat facing the committee in a dark, oak-paneled room that no one who worked in the City ever wanted to enter. For most of those who sat on the wrong side of the long oak table, it spelled the end of their career.
On the other side of the table sat the chairman of the committee, Sir Piers Thornton, a former sheriff of the City. On his right, Nigel Foreman of NatWest, and on his left, Sir Bertram Laing of Price Waterhouse. However, perhaps the most important figure present was Henry VIII, whose portrait hung on the red-velvet-covered wall behind the chairman to remind everyone who had originally granted this august body its royal seal of approval.
Sir Piers offered a benign smile before he opened proceedings. “Good morning, gentlemen. I’d like to begin by thanking you all for attending this enquiry.” What he didn’t add was what the consequences would have been had they failed to do so. “As you know, Mr. Gavin Buckland, who has worked as a commodity broker at Farthings for the past eleven years, has levied a serious accusation against Mr. Hakim Bishara, the bank’s chairman. He claims that Mr. Bishara ordered him to purchase a large number of shares in Amalgamated Wire at a time when he knew it was involved in a takeover bid for another company. To compound matters, that company was represented by Farthings Bank.
“Mr. Buckland told the committee that he refused to carry out the order as he knew it was against the law and so, to quote him, ‘with a heavy heart,’” said Sir Piers, looking down at the written statement in front of him, “he decided to report the matter to this committee, and supplied us with a tape of his conversation with Mr. Bishara. The purpose of this inquiry, Mr. Bishara, is to give you the opportunity to defend yourself against these charges.”
The chairman sat back and produced the same benign smile to show he had completed his opening statement.
Arnold Hardcastle rose from his place on the other side of the table.
“My name is Arnold Hardcastle, and I am the bank’s legal advisor, a position I have held for the past twenty-two years. I would like to begin by saying that this is the first occasion anyone from Farthings has been asked to appear before this committee since the bank’s foundation in 1866.”
The benign smile returned.
“I am joined today, Sir Piers, by the chairman of Farthings, Mr. Hakim Bishara, and his chief executive, Mr. Sebastian Clifton, both of whom you will be acquainted with. The other member of our team, with whom you will not be familiar, is Professor Daniel Horowitz of the Smithsonian Institute in Washington, DC. He will explain the presence of the fifth member of our team, Matilda, who also hails from the Smithsonian.
“I will begin by saying a few words about the role Mr. Bishara has played since he became chairman of Farthings four years ago. I will not dwell on the countless awards he has received from government institutions and respected organizations from all over the world, but the simple, undisputed fact is that under his leadership, Farthings has opened branches in seven countries, employs 6,412 people, and its share price has tripled. Mr. Bishara is well aware that the accusation against him is a serious one because it goes directly to the most important tenet of banking: reputation.
“It will not be me, nor Mr. Bishara himself, who defends him against these charges. No, he will leave that to a machine, which must surely be a first for this committee in its five-hundred-year history. The inventor of this machine, Professor Horowitz, may not be known to you, but as he will be our sole advocate on this occasion, perhaps I should tell you a little about his background. Young Daniel Horowitz escaped from Germany with his parents in 1937. They settled in the borough of Queens in New York, where his father became a pawnbroker. Daniel left New York at the age of seventeen to attend Yale University, where he studied physics.
“He graduated with a B.S. before he was old enough to vote. He went on to MIT, where he completed his PhD with a thesis on the impact of sound in an increasingly noisy world. Dr. Horowitz then joined the Smithsonian as a lecturer, where nine years later he was appointed as the first Professor of Sound. In 1974 he was awarded the prestigious Congressional Science Medal, only the fourteenth person to be so honored in the nation’s history.” Arnold paused. “With the committee’s permission, Sir Piers, I will ask Professor Horowitz to conduct our defense.”
The professor rose from his chair, although it was not immediately obvious, as he appeared still to be on the same level as the members of the committee who were seated. However, it was not his lack of physical stature that would have struck a casual observer, but the vast bald dome that rested on such tiny shoulders, and made it easy to overlook the fact that his trousers couldn’t have seen an iron since the day they were bought, or that his shirt was frayed at the collar. A tie hung loosely around his neck, as if it were an afterthought. It was only when the professor opened his mouth that the committee realized they were in the presence of a giant.
“What a strange, incongruous figure I must appear, Mr. Chairman, standing before this august and ancient body to address you on a subject I have spent my whole life studying: sound. I am fascinated by the sound of Big Ben chiming, or a London bus changing gears. Only yesterday I spent a considerable time recording the sound of Bow Bells. You may well ask, how can this have any relevance for the defense of a man accused of insider trading? To answer that, I will need the help of my offspring, Matilda, who like me has never visited London before.”
The professor walked across to a side table on which he had placed a white cube, about two feet square, with what looked like the handset of a telephone attached to one side.
On the side facing the committee was a large circular dial with black numbers around its edge that went from 0 to 120. A thick red arrow rested on zero. From the looks on the faces of the committee, Matilda had succeeded in catching their attention.
“Now, with your permission, sir, I shall ask Mr. Bishara to deliver the exact words he was accused of saying to Mr. Buckland. But please don’t look at Mr. Bishara, concentrate on Matilda.”
The committee didn’t take their eyes off the machine as Hakim rose from his place, picked up the handset and said, “Buy Amalgamated Wire, but don’t let anyone know I authorized it, because that would be insider trading. Keep up the good work, Gavin, and I’m sure that it will be reflected in your annual bonus.” Hakim replaced the handset and returned to his seat.
“I should now like to ask you gentlemen,” said the professor politely, “what you observed while you were watching Matilda.”
“While Mr. Bishara was speaking,” said Sir Piers, “the arrow shot up to 76, then fluctuated between 74 and 78 until he put the handset down, when it returned to zero.”
“Thank you, chairman,” said the professor. “The voice of the average male of Mr. Bishara’s age will have a volume level somewhere between 74 and 78. A softly spoken woman will average 67 to 71, while a younger man might reach a high of 85, or even 90. But whatever the individual’s voice level, it remains constant.
“If I may, I would now like to feed Matilda with the tape on which the allegations against Mr. Bishara are based. Once again, I would ask you to watch the arrow carefully.”
By the time the professor had placed the tape into the machine, the committee were leaning forward intently. He pressed Play, and everyone in the room listened to the same words a second time, but this time Matilda registered a very different result.
“How is that possible?” asked Sir Piers.
“It is possible,” said the professor, “because the tape supplied to this committee is a recording not of one conversation, but four, as I shall now demonstrate.” He rewound the tape and once again pressed the Play button.
Cometh the Hour Page 31
