‘Excellent,’ Redfern said. ‘Just write a letter to the landlord informing him that you will be leaving when the lease expires. Perfect. So when the Truth Commission tries to serve a subpoena on you – or if the DA comes looking for you – you’ve clearly left town. For good.’ He paused. ‘So what I recommend is that I set up that company for you in the Cayman Islands. Let’s say we call it the Neptune Company. You transfer your personal fifty-one per cent shareholding in Harvest to Neptune and you own all the shares. That way you’re technically no longer a Harvest shareholder and can’t be traced. But you’ll still control Harvest, anonymously, through Neptune.’
34
The next two weeks were hectic: buying a boat, preparing to sell Harvest House, packing up a whole life so he could hit the high seas and run for his life.
It was a fifty-two-foot ketch, built in Hong Kong, called Rosemary. She was sound but she had been neglected and Harker beat down the price to $140,000. She was built of fibreglass, had teak decks, lots of fancy woodwork, three cabins, two bathrooms, a large saloon, an excellent galley, a spacious wheelhouse, a second steering wheel aft. Harker took an album of photographs of her out to the airport when he went to meet Josephine on her return from South Africa. He also took two air tickets. They rushed into each other’s arms, then he thrust the tickets at her.
‘Where are these to?’ she demanded.
‘To Las Vegas,’ Harker said. ‘We’re getting married, whether you agree or not. And this –’ he put the album of photographs into her hand – ‘is your beautiful new matrimonial home …’
Josephine stared at the topmost photograph of the handsome yacht.
‘Oh wow …’ she said.
And so Jack Harker and Josephine Valentine got married. Josephine hurriedly began to pack up all her ornaments and pictures and paintings for storage to enable Harker to let the apartment: she thought he was the owner and that a tenant would be occupying it for the next three years. Jack Harker was lucky that he could so easily persuade his bride to disappear with him like this: the only unpleasantness came from her father. After the ceremony in The True Love Wedding Chapel, Josephine telephoned her father in Boston from their hotel room. Harker listened on the extension in the bathroom.
‘Dad,’ Josephine said, ‘I’m calling you from Las Vegas. First of all, to tell you I love you.’
‘Las Vegas? I thought you were in South Africa.’
‘I got back to New York this morning. Jack met me at the airport, and we flew straight on to Las Vegas. Dad? Jack and I are married.’
There was a stunned silence. Then: ‘So you’ve done it, huh?’
‘Dad,’ Josephine said, ‘we want your blessing.’
There was another silence. Then a bitter sigh. ‘Against my wishes … Against my advice, you have rushed off and committed the folly of marrying that man.’
‘Dad, he’s a good man and I love him.’
‘That soldier of fortune.’
‘Dad. Believe me, I know him better than you.’
‘You think you do,’ the old man said bitterly. ‘So tell me, what time today did you go through this so-called marriage ceremony?’
‘Half an hour ago. Why?’
Harker was amazed to hear the old man say, ‘So you have not yet consummated the marriage?’
Josephine half-laughed, embarrassed. ‘Dad, I’m sure you’re worldly-wise enough to imagine that our relationship has been consummated many times over the last several years.’
‘I said marriage! You haven’t, have you – consummated the marriage in the last half-hour?’
‘Dad, if you must know, the answer is no – but what the hell has it got to do with you?’
‘It has,’ the old man said, ‘a great deal to do with me. As your trustee. And with us, as father and daughter.’ He paused, then pronounced: ‘Josie, you can take it from me, as a lawyer, that you can walk out of that hotel room right now and your so-called marriage can be declared null and void by the courts, because it has not been consummated since the marriage!’
There was a shocked silence. Then: ‘Father – do you realize what you’re saying?’
‘I realize perfectly, I’m telling you to escape this folly – all you’ve got to do is catch a taxi to the airport and a plane to Boston. I’ll meet you and take care of everything.’
‘Dad, does it not occur to you that I want to be married to Jack? And he to me?’
‘Because you imagine that you’re in love with him. Josephine, the man is a soldier of fortune, it’s your wealth that he’s in love with. He knows you inherit over two million dollars on your marriage. Josephine – if you go ahead with this marriage, I will not give you the time of day. I cannot prevent you getting your entitlement in terms of your grandfather’s trust, but I will disown you. I will cut you out of my own will and bequeath my entire estate to charity. I refuse to let that so-called husband get his hands on our hard-earned wealth.’
‘Dad,’ Josephine said softly, ‘you can stick your wealth right up your sweater, all I want from you is your blessing. And Dad? You’d better give it soon because we’re going to go away for a long, long time, on a lovely yacht we’ve just bought, we’re going to sail right around the world, starting next month.’ Her voice caught. ‘We’d like your blessing, Dad, but if you don’t want to give it you can go to hell!’
Josephine banged down the telephone and burst into tears.
Harker came through from the bathroom, sat down on the bed beside her and took her in his arms.
‘It’ll be okay,’ he said, ‘he’ll come around.’
‘Oh,’ she sobbed, ‘I’m so sorry you heard all that.’
‘He’ll come around when he sees how happy we are.’
‘He doesn’t mean it,’ she sobbed, ‘he’s just … desperate.’
Oh, he means it all right, Harker thought. He lifted her chin. ‘Now, about this consummation of the marriage business he was talking about …’ He toppled her over on to her back.
It was half an hour later, when they were sprawled out on the bed, naked, sweating, exhausted, that the telephone rang.
‘It’s got to be him,’ Harker said. ‘Nobody else knows we’re in Las Vegas.’
Josephine reached to answer it, then stopped herself. ‘You speak to him,’ she said.
Harker reached for the phone. ‘Hullo?’
‘Is that Jack Harker?’
‘It is.’
‘Let me speak to Josephine, please.’
Jesus. ‘Who,’ Harker asked, ‘is speaking?’
‘Her father, Denys Valentine.’
Harker closed his eyes in anger – the man’s arrogance, not introducing himself upfront. He held the telephone out to Josephine.
Josephine hesitated, then said, ‘Tell him,’ she said loudly so Valentine could hear, ‘we have consummated the marriage!’
Harker returned the telephone to his ear. ‘Denys, my wife sends you her love and hopes for your blessing. She asks you please to telephone her at home tomorrow as she is indisposed at the moment.’
Valentine snorted bitterly. ‘I heard what she said. So, I understand you are to be congratulated.’
‘Thank you,’ Harker said.
‘On marrying the best girl in the world,’ Valentine said.
‘Yes, that’s absolutely true.’ Harker was grinning. He added: ‘The best young woman in the world. And one of the world’s most talented writers.’
The old man snorted again. Then: ‘Well, just you look after her, Mr Harker. If you don’t, I’ll hound you to the ends of the earth. Now, is it true that you intend taking my daughter off around the world in a small sailboat?’
Harker smiled. ‘In a big, strong, fifty-two-foot ketch with a Lloyd’s Al survey certificate.’
‘Mr Harker, are you completely selfish? Are you completely reckless of my daughter’s life?’
‘On the contrary, I am devoted to my wife’s well-being, Denys. This round-the-world adventure is the fulfilment of a lifetime’s dream
for both of us. And, as I am sure you’re aware, your daughter has a legendary reputation as an adventurer in umpteen war-zones.’
‘Mr Harker –’
‘Please,’ Harker said crisply, ‘call me Jack.’
‘Mr Harker,’ Valentine continued, ‘what about my daughter’s literary career while you take her off gallivanting around the globe?’
‘Josephine’s literary career is also my professional business. But the fact is, Josephine can work anywhere in the world. She will continue to write and Harvest House will continue to publish her to the best of its ability. To our mutual profitability.’
‘And how,’ Valentine enquired, ‘will you run Harvest House – and thus my daughter’s career – when you are on the high seas?’
‘I’ll be appointing a managing director.’
‘Who?’
Harker frowned. ‘Forgive me, but that’s none of your business.’
‘On the contrary, as my daughter’s husband you have a responsibility not only for her happiness, for her spiritual and physical well-being, but also for her literary career, and I as her trustee and father certainly have a moral right to know how you propose discharging that responsibility when you’re endangering her life on the high seas. Now I’ve just spoken to Josephine’s agent about this problem, and she tells me she’s heard a rumour that you propose selling Harvest House. Is this true?’
Harker didn’t want Josephine to know this yet. ‘Untrue, Mr Valentine. And now, if you’ll excuse me, I would like to be with my wife. It is our honeymoon, after all.’
Valentine snorted. ‘Your wife …’ he said bitterly.
Before he could continue Harker said quietly, ‘Yes, Mr Valentine, and I want you to know that I will always do my utmost to be a good husband to her, as I am confident she will be a good wife to me. And I want you to know that she very much wants your blessing. And now goodnight, sir. Please feel free to telephone us in New York tomorrow evening.’
He hung up.
It was a time of mixed emotions: the happiness of being married at last and the excitement of preparing for the adventure of sailing off into the wide blue yonder; the sadness of packing up a whole life, pictures and ornaments and paintings and china packed into crates, their furniture prepared for storage so that Harker could pretend to put the place on the market for rental. He dearly wished he had told her long ago that the property was only leased. And he was exhausted: the tension of the preceding months, the deafening ticking of the amnesty clock had robbed him of much sleep, made him drink too much, had dogged his every waking thought. But now, with Josephine back from Africa, in his bed every night and morning, with the boat now waiting for them, it seemed he was getting some control over his crisis: he was very relieved that he had persuaded her so easily to help him disappear. He was very lucky that Josephine was mad-keen about sailing. Oh yes, he liked his boat and he was excited too about the adventures ahead, but relief was his uppermost emotion.
And he was very lucky about the Gramercy Mews apartment too. Josephine loved the place and if she had found out the truth about it she might have discovered the whole truth about him. Josephine did not expect to see the apartment for the next three years – he had that long before having to explain to her that the apartment was no more. Cross the bridges when you come to them.
And there were many other things to be done.
He said: ‘It’s only sensible that we should both take out some more life insurance. How much have you got? You told me once but I’ve forgotten.’
‘Only forty thousand. Took it out years ago just as a form of saving, don’t know what it’s worth today.’
‘Which company?’
‘Manufacturers Life.’
‘Okay, I’ll telephone ‘em and ask a salesman to call. You need at least a hundred thousand dollars’ worth these days. I’ve only got fifty, I’ll get another fifty.’ He added: ‘We both appoint each other as beneficiary. That way if one of us dies the survivor doesn’t have to wait for probate of the estate. And we should both make new wills.’
‘Doing the same? Both leave our estates to the other?’
‘If that’s what you want to do.’
‘Of course. I’ve got no siblings. So, what else have we got to do, partner?’
Sell Harvest House, that’s what. He did not want to mention that subject to Josephine, he did not want a crisis, but sell he must, to pay off his debts, to pay for the boat, to pay for this voyage around the world, to do a total disappearing trick. It broke Harker’s heart to think of selling his beloved Harvest House but it had to be done. Harker hoped that Redfern would quietly sell it after they had left. Redfern had discreetly put the word out that Harvest might be for sale at the right price and there had been interest from Terence Packard, the British media mogul who was said to be looking for a good little publishing house. And then, when Harker got back to Gramercy Mews from work one evening, Josephine confronted him at the front door.
‘What’s this about you selling Harvest to that bandit Terence Packard?’
Harker was taken unawares.
‘I haven’t sold anything, Josie. All I’ve done is set up an offshore company in the Cayman Islands and transferred my fifty-one per cent share in Harvest to that holding company. It’s called Neptune.’
‘Why?’
‘Because we’re going away for years. It’s easier to administer and there are certain tax advantages. And if I ever decide to sell, I’ll only have to sell Neptune.’
‘And – have you decided to sell?’
Harker sighed. ‘Who told you about Packard?’
‘The venerable Priscilla Fischer herself. She says the word’s out that Harvest is up for grabs and that Terence Packard has offered nine-dollars-sixty a share!’ She stared at him. ‘Why didn’t you tell me about all this?’
Harker sighed grimly. ‘I didn’t want to upset you.’ He added untruthfully: ‘And I didn’t set out to look for a buyer – the word got out and Packard’s men approached me.’
‘Of course I’m upset! God, my publisher – who also just happens to be my husband – is about to sell his soul and his best author to the biggest predator in publishing.’
Oh, he wished he could tell the truth. He went into his long-rehearsed speech: ‘Josie, I’m forty-six years old. I’ve worked hard. We’re going off around the world on our yacht – and I want the money. We don’t know how long we’ll be away. We may not want to come back at all. So if I get a good offer now, why not take the money and invest it? Anyway, I can’t administer Harvest when I’m on the high seas, can I?’
Josephine looked at him. ‘And what,’ she demanded, ‘about me?’
‘You’ll still get paid your normal royalties by Harvest, no matter who owns the shares, me or Packard.’
‘But I don’t want to write for Packard – that megalomaniac.’
‘Well,’ Harker said, ‘your next book, after this one you’re writing now, you can take to any publisher you like – and probably be paid a higher advance than Harvest will pay you.’
Josie frowned. ‘But,’ she objected, ‘I don’t want to be published by just anybody else.’ She pointed across Gramercy Park. ‘I like the gang over at Harvest. Most of them will leave if Packard takes over. I like the building. I like your office, which is my territory, not just yours. I’m not only one of your authors, I’m the boss’s pillow companion.’
Harker sighed. ‘When we’re back from our travels I can start a new publishing house. With you as my star author, I’ll have no trouble getting off the ground.’
Josephine turned away. ‘Bullshit …’ She turned back to him: ‘Look, you’ve got the best little publishing house in New York just over there. Up and running, an established name, a good list of authors, excellent sales team.’ She spread her hands. ‘And you love publishing. And your ever-loving wife is your star author who earns you lots of money.’ She frowned. ‘And you want to give all this away to a scoundrel like Packard? For what – a couple of million dol
lars?’
‘When you’ve been paying yourself the minimum salary for years that is a lot of money. And,’ he ended, ‘I’m sick of you earning more than me.’
Josephine looked mystified. She waved her hand. ‘But you provide this apartment. And the living costs. And our holiday expenses. And Harvest provides all the money I earn – you’re the guy who sells my books, not me. Christ, what more does a damsel want in a husband?’
‘Josephine –’
‘Okay – what’s Packard offering you? Nine bucks-sixty a share? I offer nine-seventy!’
Harker sighed. ‘Josie –’
‘You don’t think it’s worth it? I do – every goddam penny. Especially if Packard thinks so! In fact it’s a bargain, because I know I’m going to write such marvellous books Harvest is going to treble in value over the next three years – I’m going to make the killing, not Mr bloody Packard! And that way we keep Harvest in the family. And when we come back we can reappoint you managing director.’ She held up both hands: ‘My money is as good as Terence Packard’s.’
Harker sighed. Oh, he would love to do the deal – love to have his cake and eat it. But no – too risky. Before he could respond Josephine planted herself in front of him.
‘Jack, this is very important to me. Very important. And I demand, as your wife, a proper say in this matter, which affects not only you but our livelihood. And affects me as a writer – writers like to feel comfortable with their publishers. The personality of the publisher, his character, his … sense of humour, his artistic sense, his vision – and above all his integrity is terribly important to an author. The author’s only partner is his publisher. So if the author suspects his publisher is a bullshitter, or insincere, that would be deeply disturbing.’ She looked at him. ‘And that’s exactly how I feel about Terence Packard. He’s a steel-hearted blackguard dressed up in publisher’s clothing. In fact I hereby advise you that if you sell to Packard I am off – to Doubleday or Dutton or somebody like that. Which detail will doubtless reduce the value of Harvest’s shares.’ She glared at him. ‘So, my darling? You sell your shareholding in Harvest House to me for nine-dollars-seventy a throw, or,’ she pointed at the door, ‘I am off …’
Unofficial and Deniable Page 27