"I wasn't planning on asking him," said the acting managing director, dryly.
We were better prepared for the breaking of the Sunday Herald story than we had been a week earlier. Our QC had given us a plan that covered every contingency, including the one that had developed, and a copy had been given to Alison Goodchild, for her to use as a briefing book.
It said that the company would act in the best interests of all its shareholders, and reserved the right to take any action it considered appropriate. Effectively that meant reserving the option of cancelling the three sales and taking the chance that the threat of court action was a bluff, knowing at the same time that if it wasn't, the likelihood was that we were in for a kicking.
What I was not prepared for was the verbal kicking I received from Sir Graeme Fisher once the story had appeared in print.
"What the hell do you think you're up to, boy?" he shouted at me, as I sat at the breakfast table with a slice of toast in one hand and the phone in the other. "You're not a director of this company and you don't speak for this company. What's this nonsense you're quoted as saying? "My wife is the Gantry Group?" You're making it look a damned laughing stock, and you're making me look a laughing stock."
I kept my face straight through his tirade, because Susie was sitting across the table and I didn't want her to get wind of what was happening.
"You don't need any help there," I told him, smiling.
His tone went up a notch or two, attaining incandescence. "You impertinent young "Shareholder is the word you're after, I think."
"Then listen, shareholder. If your wife is stepping down as managing director, for whatever reason, the first body that has to be told is the Stock Exchange, not the Sunday bloody Herald. You've broken a fundamental rule, son, but it's me who's going to have to apologise for it. Do you know what I'm thinking now? I'm thinking that it might be in the best interests of the company, by which I mean all the shareholders, if rather than allow your wife to go on maternity leave, I suspend her formally from duty because of the way she's handled this crisis. Allowing you to speak to the press is reasonable evidence, as I see it, of a serious lack of judgement on her part, justifying such an action on mine. I propose to take independent legal advice… not your pal McPhillips… and if he agrees that I have a right to do that, I will'
I wasn't sure whether Susie sensed what was happening or not, but she chose that moment to slip off her stool at the breakfast bar, gather Janet up in her arms, and leave the room.
The change in my tone of voice must have surprised Fisher, just a little. "Now listen to me, you old bastard," I hissed. "Get your ego in check and remember your place. If you don't assure me right now that what you've just said was all bluff and bullshit there will be a special board meeting before this day is out. I will attend that meeting as my wife's proxy and the only item on the agenda will be your resignation as chairman."
"On what grounds?"
"On the grounds that I don't fucking like you. If you think I'm not serious, just try me out. Now I'll tell you two things. One, if you ever call me "boy" or "son" again, your age won't stop me slapping you silly. Two, if you ever threaten my wife again, nothing will protect you. Now this is what you're going to do. You'll instruct our brokers to make a statement to the Stock Exchange that Phil Culshaw has taken over as acting chief executive of the group during Susie's absence on maternity leave, but that she will be available to him for consultation and advice. That'll impress the analysts. What you've just proposed would scare the crap out of them, and the bankers and every independent shareholder."
I had to pause for breath; that's how angry I was. "You've got five seconds," I continued, 'to let me hear you say "Yes", or I call Greg as company secretary and have him call that meeting. And don't waste one of those seconds thinking I'm bluffing. One, two…"
Fisher said, "Yes," on the count of four, although it came across as if he was choking.
"Sensible," I said. "By the way, what do you think of Aidan Keane as the mole?"
"He's a hot-head, but I'm certain it wasn't him."
"Wrong." I hung up on the Knight of the Realm.
"Was he indeed?"
I looked over my shoulder; Susie was standing in the doorway.
"How much of that did you hear?"
"I came in on "I don't fucking like you". I've been wanting to say that to him since the first day he took the chair. He's got to go."
I shook my head. "No, not now he's got the message. It would be a bad move at this point. You have to show unity. The share price will take a big enough thumping tomorrow as it is."
Thirty-One
I wasn't wrong about that: when the market opened next morning all the week's small recovery had been wiped out and a further ten per cent had gone from the company's value, knocking the shares below their original flotation price of one pound.
I was in Middlesex when I found this out. Paul had scheduled an early start for the second week's shooting. I knew it wouldn't be a brilliant opening, but I wasn't prepared for Ernie Nichols, my broker, phoning me to ask if I was sure I still wanted to buy Gantry shares.
"Of course I do," I told him. "This crisis will all be sorted in a couple of days." Optimism was essential, I felt, even though I didn't feel much.
"It's not a bright picture," he warned me. "If sales on your new development are as poor as they were last week…" That statement could have been lifted from a master-class in diplomacy. There hadn't been any sales; a hastily put together market research programme had told us that in addition to public concern about living next door to gangsters, many potential buyers had been put off by the fear that if they bought in New Bearsden they might come under police scrutiny themselves.
"The analysts aren't too keen on your wife's decision to step aside either. They feel that it sends the wrong message. Even at this stage you couldn't persuade her to stay in post, could you?"
I told Ernie that I was the guy who'd insisted that she step aside, and that he should stick to buying and selling. He did that, okay. By midday I'd acquired another hundred thousand Gantry shares from small private investors who'd lost their bottle.
But the small fry weren't the only ones to head for the hills.
I was on-set in the afternoon when I had a message to call Phil Culshaw, whenever I could. I was between takes, so I called him on my mobile at the office. "What are you doing just now?" he asked.
"Nothing. Why?"
"I meant are you shooting funny scenes or heavy drama?"
"The latter." And how: my character and Ewan's were having their final confrontation.
"That's all right then. What's the worst thing that could happen to the company in the present situation?"
"Saddam Hussein and Osama Bin Laden could buy adjoining villas?"
"Worse than that."
"George W Bush fancies a weekend retreat in New Bearsden?"
"You're getting there. Sapphire's selling out. Angela Rowntree called me this morning. She told me that she doesn't see the situation being resolved any time soon, if ever, so she's taking what she can get right now and investing elsewhere."
"So why haven't her shares come on the market?" I asked. "Ernie Nichols would have told me if they had."
"She's accepted a private offer, and you're not going to like it when I tell you who the buyer is. Not that you can't guess."
"Natalie Morgan. Torrent PLC I heard Phil's sudden quiet grunt. "Got it in one. You're not surprised then?"
"No. In the light of what you told me a while back, Susie and I have been tracking Ms Morgan. She met with the Rowntree woman last week."
"I don't imagine I want to know how you found that out."
"No, you don't. Has the deal been done, or can I make a counter-bid?"
"It's done. Anyway, you don't have that sort of money."
"I have friends who do."
"Ah, but would they put it at risk?" He had me there: Everett Davis owes me, but not that much. "Anyway," he continued, 'it'
s academic.
The deal's done. Sapphire has accepted an offer of one pound thirty pence per share, and that's not all that far below the Gantry price before the nonsense began. Ms Rowntree didn't say, but I'm assuming that the price will be paid in new Torrent shares, and that she'll simply be exchanging an investment in one company for another."
"Damn it."
"No, Oz, that reaction's too mild. I had Nat Morgan on the phone half an hour ago. She told me that given the size of her holding, she expects a seat on the board. I've also had a call from Fisher. She's made the same demand to him and he supports her. Do you want to tell Susie, or shall I."
"Neither of us will. I don't want her blood pressure raised by a single point, and that news would send it up the scale. You tell Morgan what Susie would if I'd let her. Remind her that she owns about eighteen per cent of the company, and that's not enough to make demands. When she owns fifty-one per cent she gets a seat, but not before."
"It may come to that, Oz," Phil warned. "Almost certainly this is a precursor to a full bid, contingent on one hundred per cent acceptance."
"Yes, and Susie has sixty per cent and she'll reject."
"Not so easy. There's another twenty-two per cent out there."
"Some of that's mine."
"Yes, but how much?"
"I dunno for sure," I admitted, 'but it'll be short of one per cent."
"Minimal. That leaves another twenty. Okay, Joe Donn's six per cent might be out of the reckoning, but that leaves fourteen. Morgan will only need about half of that on her side. If significantly more than half of the minorities want to accept, and the company's advisers deem that a bid of one thirty is the best price attainable, Fisher will recommend acceptance."
"You mean he'll sell the business out from under Susie's feet?"
"Yes. And I'd say the court would back him if it had to."
"Where's the escape hatch?"
"Susie resigns her executive position and a successor is appointed. As an ordinary shareholder, she can reject the offer. But, and it's a big one, if she does that her shareholding is such that she could be forced to buy out the minorities."
"Yes, we had anticipated that one. Do you see any daylight in this?"
"If she took the offer Susie would be a big player inside Torrent. She could make a real nuisance of herself."
"That's not her scene, Phil." I thought, as quickly and as broadly as I could. "Listen, you're chief executive, and it has to be your decision, but if I was you I'd make the bold move now. We've been nice to these chancers for long enough. I'd tear up the Three Bears' sales and call their bluff."
"And what if they sue?"
"That possibility is the reason why the share price is on the floor, so I don't see that it can do that much more damage. But if they don't.. ."
"Then we've won and it goes back up. You're right, of course. But as a responsible managing director, can I put the business at such a risk?"
"Which is the bigger risk? Doing that or doing nothing and letting New Bearsden turn into a financial disaster? Phil, I'll bet you a million quid right now that the day Nat Morgan takes control of Gantry she'll make those three hooligans a modest offer for their plots and they'll accept."
He was silent for a while. "You really think she's behind them?"
"I'd stake your life on it, mate."
Culshaw laughed. "In that case, I've got no choice. But… and I really don't want to know how you do it, it would be very nice if you could get me some proof of that."
But I was in no position to start gathering proof, was I, not four hundred miles away from the action, on a sound stage in Middlesex. I was doing what I could by remote control, of course; Ricky's operatives still had Natalie Morgan under surveillance, and after Arnott Buchan's tip on Saturday, I had asked him to organise a tail on Aidan Keane as well, using close-mouthed Glasgow people who knew the territory. Common sense told me that I couldn't do any more if I was in Scotland, but I wasn't happy being away from Susie at that time, and that was the truth of it.
My anger must have come through in a big way on camera that afternoon, for my big scene with Ewan was another one-take wrap, and after it the Great Man Himself actually complimented me on my work, telling me that for all his years of experience, I'd actually scared him a little. The way I felt, I was surprised I hadn't scared him a lot.
I shouldn't have done it, I know, but I couldn't stop myself. Before we went our separate ways, Ewan back to his London base and I to mine in the hotel, I asked him if he still had Natalie Morgan's private number. If he was curious, he didn't show it: he just produced his Filofax, copied it on to a blank note sheet, tore it out and handed it over to me.
I had been in Nat's flat once. It's a penthouse, perched on a block in Ravelston in Edinburgh. I could picture it as I dialled her number, and her, prowling around like a great cat. Make no mistake, if I'd known her in my single days… and even in some of my married ones … I'd have fancied spending more time there than I had, and exploring one of the rooms I hadn't been in. I still wouldn't have liked her, but I was never one to let that get in the way of a memorable shag.
From the moment we'd met I'd been irked by her arrogance, as no doubt had she by mine. We were two people destined never to hit it off, whether we were physically attracted to each other or not.
The phone rang out, until an answering system cut in. The voice on the message wasn't hers. It was male, and it sounded familiar: it didn't take me long to realise that the guy telling me that Natalie Morgan wasn't home, but that I could leave a message, was none other than Ewan Capperauld. She might have chucked him, but she still kept him on her tape to impress callers.
That's what I told her too, when I started to record the invited message, that she had more than a little bloody cheek. I hadn't got very far when she picked up the phone. "Well hello, Oz," she exclaimed. "I'll be happy to ditch old Ewan, if you'll do me a replacement. I'd love to have your husky life tones answering my calls. What can I do for you, my dear?"
It had taken her about ten seconds to get under my skin. Her voice was different; maybe that's what triggered it off. I was used to Nat sounding cold and aloof. She'd never teased me in her life before. But now there was a chuckle at the back of her throat, and as she spoke I could see her smiling.
"You know very well what you can do for me, Natalie. You can get your greedy, ambitious doe eyes off my wife's company."
She laughed again. "Thanks for the compliments, darling; I could always tell you liked my eyes. I rather like yours too. When you look into them and ignore everything else there's a coldness about them that's very impressive. It's rather sad that you've become Susie Gantry's lap-dog."
"Rottweiler would be a better description, as you're going to find out if you keep trying to hurt Susie."
"That's good," she chuckled. "I prefer you when you're not trying to be nice. I have to confess I've seen all your movies, and when they let you be the bad guy, it really turns me on."
"Keep pushing your luck then, and see how moist you get. I'm not kidding. This move of yours is not welcome, either on a personal or a business level. It doesn't make any sense either. You know sweet eff all about the construction and property businesses. If you want to expand Torrent, why not stick to your own sector? That's what your uncle would have done. By the way, I don't know if I ever told you this, but I thought he was a shit as well, and I'm glad he's dead."
"Oh come on, Oz! James may have lacked business vision, but he did have his good points."
"Name one."
"When he died he left everything to me."
I laughed; sort of. "He didn't leave it, he was taken away from it. He was a greasy, grasping, avaricious…"
"Lecherous?" she said. "Yes, how about lecherous."
"Fine, if you want. Tell me, 'cos I've always wondered? Did you and he…"
Hard as I was trying, I couldn't seem to rattle her. She tutted at me.
"Unworthy, Oz, unworthy. He'd have liked to, of course,
but I never gave him the opportunity."
"You mean it wasn't necessary, you were his heir anyway?"
"Got it in one, darling. Now you, on the other hand; I loathe and detest you also, but…"
"Forget it, girl. You'll never feature in my will."
"That won't ruin my day. So come on, Oz, tell me. I hear you're calling the shots behind the scenes these days, now that little wifie is off practising fecundity. Am I getting my seat on the Gantry Group board?"
"I wouldn't give you a seat on a scout camp latrine, gal."
She laughed again, louder than ever. I judged it to be a little forced.
"You are a mean bastard, aren't you. You're a name, though. I may still offer you a place when I take over."
"Dream on."
"I am. We announced it this afternoon. Torrent is making a formal bid for one hundred per cent of the share capital of Gantry. It'll take us a week or so to prepare, but we've advised the Stock Exchange already.
Your shares have recovered a little, but with that thug Culshaw inviting court action on the company, I'm still certain of success."
"You're crazy. I'm a private shareholder, and I'll never sell."
"I'm advised that the court will see you as acting in concert with your wife; it'll force you to sell also. Come on, Oz, do a private deal with me now and I'll make you a director. I heard you were really wounded when dear old Graeme forced you off the board. He's on my side, you know. He was a great friend of my uncle."
"You shouldn't have told me that, Nat. He's been hanging on by his nails anyway, but now he's history."
Suddenly I had had enough. "No more crap; here's the deal. You drop this nonsense, or I will break you." She started to chuckle but I cut her off. "In half, girl, in half, and I always keep my word." I paused for a second. "So you take that warning to heart, and you take it somewhere else as well. Take it to whoever's behind you. I know you, you see; you don't have the vision for all this. You couldn't set up the Three Bears to buy into New Bearsden, or use Aidan Keane to cover it up till the trap was ready. For sure, there's someone behind you, and you know what? I'm going to fucking have him as well."
Unnatural Justice ob-7 Page 17
