Fatal Error

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Fatal Error Page 35

by Michael Ridpath


  ‘Can’t you reconsider?’

  Clare’s expression became firm. ‘We’ve made our decision. Now I really must go. Can you see yourself out?’

  Once again I found myself out on the pavement.

  When I arrived home I rang Anne Glazier in Paris. She was back from her trip. I had decided I needed to talk to her face-to-face. If there was some vital detail to be gleaned from her about Guy and the night Tony died I’d never get it from her over the phone. I was prepared to go to Paris to speak to her, but she had a meeting in London the following week and she was willing to see me for half an hour before that.

  The next call was much more difficult. My father was at work: his building-society office in the Market Place. We skated over some small talk, before he asked the question I dreaded.

  ‘How’s Ninetyminutes?’

  ‘I have bad news,’ I said.

  ‘Not again! This thing really is a roller coaster, isn’t it? I’m sure whatever it is, you’ll work out a way round it.’

  ‘Not this time, Dad.’

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘Guy and I have fallen out. He fired me.’

  ‘Good God. Can he do that?’

  ‘I’m afraid so.’

  ‘Oh, Lord. I am sorry. How awful for you.’

  ‘It is, actually.’ I appreciated my father’s concern for his son. But that wasn’t what I was most worried about. ‘I think it’s awful for all of us. Ninetyminutes is running out of cash and I want to do something about it. Guy wants to ignore it. I fear this time the company doesn’t have long in this world.’

  ‘Oh.’

  Silence. I knew what my father was trying to work out a way of saying. I put him out of his misery. ‘I think it’s quite likely that you’ll lose your entire investment. We all will.’

  ‘Oh God,’ he whispered.

  ‘I’m sorry, Dad. I’m really sorry.’

  I heard an intake of breath over the phone line. ‘That’s all right, David. It was entirely my decision. Don’t blame yourself.’

  ‘I won’t,’ I said. Although, of course, I would. He had trusted me and I had let him down. He’d never hold it against me, but I’d always know. It was my fault.

  ‘I would feel better if you were still there, though.’

  ‘Believe me, so would I.’

  ‘Yes, well. I have to go now.’ I could hear his voice cracking, almost as though he were about to cry. I had never seen my father cry.

  ‘Bye, Dad.’

  ‘Goodbye.’ And he was gone, leaving me feeling angry, sad and very, very guilty.

  I met Ingrid that evening in a pub round the corner from my flat. She smiled broadly when she saw me, and kissed me quickly on the lips.

  I checked my watch. A quarter to six. ‘Coming in late. Leaving early. What will people think?’

  ‘They won’t know what to think. Anyway, I don’t care. I was eager to see you.’

  ‘Likewise,’ I said.

  ‘And …’ She reached into her bag and pulled out a small brown package. ‘I bought some coffee.’

  I smiled. If having my coffee insulted was the price of Ingrid staying another night, I was quite prepared to pay it.

  ‘Did you manage not to resign?’ I asked.

  ‘I did. In fact, I hardly spoke to Guy all day. He seemed rather preoccupied.’

  ‘I’m not surprised. No news from Torsten?’

  ‘Not that I could tell. But Owen came into the office.’

  ‘You’re joking!’

  ‘No. He spent most of the day on his computer. But he talked to Guy a bit.’

  ‘Watch out for him, Ingrid. You know how dangerous he can be.’

  ‘Don’t worry. I’ll avoid him.’

  ‘Do be careful. Please.’ I was surprised how apprehensive I suddenly felt. I had lived with the persistent threat of Owen’s violence for the last six months. I didn’t like the idea of Ingrid putting herself at risk as well.

  ‘I will be,’ she smiled, grateful for my concern. ‘Also, Mel was there.’

  ‘Mel?’

  ‘Yeah. I thought Guy had had enough of her. But obviously not. She didn’t seem very pleased to see me.’

  ‘I’m sure she wasn’t. What was she doing?’

  ‘I don’t know. She was sitting at your desk doing it, though. It was kind of weird.’

  ‘It sounds it.’ The idea of Mel sitting at my desk was uncomfortable. But it made sense. She would be able to do as good a job as anyone in picking up my work. She might have other clients at Howles Marriott, but if Guy said jump, I was sure she would jump.

  ‘No luck with Silverman or Orchestra, then?’ Ingrid asked.

  ‘No. Guy has got to Silverman. Clare was harassed and was happy to follow his lead.’

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘But I’m seeing Anne Glazier next week.’

  ‘Do you think she’ll be able to tell you anything?’

  ‘Probably not. But I have to try.’ I drank my beer, feeling the disappointment crowd in on me from all sides. ‘What now?’

  ‘I don’t want to just give up,’ said Ingrid. ‘Sit by and let Guy screw it all up.’

  ‘Neither do I. But if neither Silverman nor Clare will listen to us I don’t see how we can get Guy to cut back on costs.’

  ‘And you’re quite certain Torsten won’t come up with the cash?’

  ‘Positive. I’m sure Guy is convincing, but that doesn’t mean anything. When Guy wants to believe something, he can make other people believe it too. You know that. Torsten will flake and Ninetyminutes will go under.’

  ‘What about Champion Starsat?’ Ingrid said.

  ‘I thought you voted against the idea of selling out to them?’

  ‘I did then. But this is now. I’m not sure we have a choice.’

  ‘Guy would hate it if I went to them behind his back.’

  ‘Guy fired you yesterday.’

  I took a deep breath. ‘You’re right. I’ll call them tomorrow.’

  This time I didn’t meet Jay Madden at the Savoy. This time I met him in his large corner office on the South Bank with a view of the river. Madden sat behind an impressive desk; I sat opposite.

  ‘Now, David,’ said Madden with a friendly smile. ‘What can I do for you?’

  ‘Firstly, I should tell you that I’ve left Ninetyminutes. Guy Jourdan and I had a disagreement over strategy.’

  Madden raised his eyebrows. ‘And does that disagreement over strategy have anything to do with Champion Starsat?’

  ‘It does.’

  ‘You know the market’s changed since we last spoke. So have our plans. We’ve started up our own site. We don’t need Ninetyminutes any more.’

  ‘Ninetyminutes has the best site on the Internet.’ I was surprised at the pride I felt as I said this. Whatever Ninetyminutes’ problems, that was the truth and Madden couldn’t deny it.

  He didn’t try. ‘Running out of cash, are you?’

  ‘If Ninetyminutes is to make the most of its potential it needs investment. Serious investment. You can provide that. The markets can’t.’

  Madden thought for a moment. ‘It’s true you have an excellent site. Probably even better than ours. But, as you point out, we have the cash and you haven’t. And that means we’ll dominate the space. You’ll fold soon. Goaldigger have a bit more funding than you, so they’ll last longer. But we’ll win. You know that.’ His tone was matter-of-fact, not aggressive, which just made what he said sound even more credible.

  ‘You may be correct. But at the right price it would be worth your while to incorporate our site into yours.’

  Madden smiled. ‘I take it Guy Jourdan doesn’t know you’re here?’

  ‘No, and I’d rather he didn’t.’

  ‘Is this a way for you to get your old job back?’

  ‘No. Absolutely not. But I think it would be good for Ninetyminutes. I’m still a shareholder.’

  Madden picked up a pencil from his desk and tapped his chin with it. ‘If we were to make an offer, wh
at makes you think Jourdan would accept it?’

  ‘He might have no choice.’

  ‘Are you suggesting I call him?’

  ‘No. Call Derek Silverman. And please don’t mention my name.’

  ‘All right,’ said Madden. ‘I’ll think about it.’

  ‘Thank you,’ I said, and left, feeling guilty as hell.

  38

  Without Ingrid, the weekend would have been unbearable. With Ingrid, I found it extremely bearable. She worked on Saturday, but we went to see a film together that evening. We spent Sunday morning in bed, getting to know each other, ambled down the street to a local café for lunch and wandered round Hyde Park during the afternoon. Summer had come early, the air was hot and heavy, the grass inviting. Then Ingrid returned to her own place to sort out the week’s domestic loose ends.

  I didn’t see her again until the following evening. She came straight to my flat from work. I was anxious to hear what had happened at Ninetyminutes: we had agreed not to communicate while she was at the office. With Owen there, you never knew.

  I was also anxious just to see her. At this stage of our relationship a day seemed a long time, especially when I had nothing to do but stew.

  She kissed me, and tucked herself under my arm on the sofa.

  ‘Well?’ I said.

  ‘Well. Interesting day, today.’

  ‘Tell me.’

  ‘Guy was in a worse mood than usual this morning. I’m pretty sure he’s ignoring me, but maybe he’s just ignoring everyone. Anyway, I asked him about Torsten. He looked pissed off and said he would handle it. I demanded to know whether Torsten had come through with the cash: I am still a director, after all. Guy admitted he hadn’t.’

  ‘What did I tell you? So Torsten’s father said no?’

  ‘Torsten wouldn’t admit that to Guy, but that’s what Guy thinks. Guy was furious. I thought he was going to jump on a plane to Hamburg and kill him.’

  ‘Don’t say that,’ I said.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘You know. Tony Jourdan has died. I was put in hospital. Henry’s family was threatened. It’s getting dangerous to thwart Ninetyminutes these days.’

  Ingrid shuddered. ‘You’re right. I’m sorry. Guy didn’t jump on a plane, and before you say anything, Owen was in the office all day too.’

  ‘Did Madden call Silverman?’

  ‘I think he must have. Silverman came round about lunchtime, and he and Guy shut themselves in the boardroom for a couple of hours.’

  ‘Did Guy tell you what it was about?’

  ‘No. I asked him if there was anything I should know. He said there would be a board meeting tomorrow morning. Apparently Clare is in Leeds or somewhere today. He said it was to confirm your removal as a director from the board. But there’s something else, I’m sure.’

  ‘Madden’s put an offer in.’

  ‘It looks like it.’

  ‘I wonder what the board will say.’

  Tuesday morning was tough. The waiting was becoming more difficult by the day. I had spent many hours trying to work out who had run Tony Jourdan down, with little success. For all I knew, it could have been Guy. My best chance for a breakthrough was my forthcoming meeting with Anne Glazier, but that was still twenty-four hours away. Ingrid and I had decided to meet for lunch so that she could tell me about the board meeting, but by nine o’clock I was already stir-crazy. I was just about to leave my flat and go for a walk when the phone rang. It was Michelle.

  ‘Hi, Michelle. How are you?’

  ‘I’m good,’ she said. But she sounded tense. It took a lot to make Michelle tense. ‘I’ve got a message from Guy.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Yes. He’d like to see you this morning. Ten o’clock, if you can make it.’

  ‘OK,’ I said. I was intrigued. And besides, it was good to be able to actually do something. ‘I’ll come round straight away.’

  ‘He’d like to meet you at Howles Marriott.’

  That was a surprise. But I supposed in his current mood Guy wanted to keep me away from Britton Street.

  ‘All right. I’ll be there.’

  Howles Marriott’s offices were in a warren of narrow pavements and cramped squares off Chancery Lane and behind Fleet Street. This was once the labyrinth of streets described by Charles Dickens, but those overcrowded dwellings had been flattened by bombs and bulldozers to be replaced by red brick, plate glass and flagstones. I found such soulless quiet in the middle of London rather eerie.

  I waited in the reception area. I had been to these offices dozens of times before, and usually Mel would come down to meet me. Not this time. I was shown up to her office by her secretary.

  She was there with Guy. I smiled at her. A mistake.

  ‘Sit down, please,’ she said, her voice unfamiliarly cold.

  I took a seat at her small conference table, on which she and I had strewn papers many times in the past. She sat facing me, next to Guy.

  Guy stared at me coolly. He seemed to have aged in the last few days, the lines around his face had deepened. His forehead was creased in a frown of worry. There were bags under his eyes.

  It was finally getting to him.

  ‘Hello, Guy,’ I said.

  He didn’t answer. I sat down.

  ‘We want to speak to you about your role in the unsolicited offer Ninetyminutes has just received from Champion Starsat,’ Mel said.

  ‘I see.’

  ‘Do you deny you spoke to them?’ Mel’s voice was dispassionate, lawyerly, precise.

  ‘No, I don’t,’ I said simply.

  Guy snorted. ‘What were you thinking of? You know Champion Starsat are the last people in the world I’d want to sell Ninetyminutes to. We discussed this a couple of months ago. The board voted to tell them to get lost.’

  ‘I went to them as an independent shareholder.’

  ‘You’re still a director of the company,’ Mel said. ‘You should have abided by the decision of the board.’

  ‘But Guy fired me last week.’

  ‘Technically you remain a director until you are removed by a resolution at a board meeting. We haven’t had the board meeting yet. It’s scheduled for later on this morning.’

  ‘Whatever. It’s still the only way out for Ninetyminutes. How much have Champion Starsat offered?’

  ‘Eighteen million pounds,’ Guy said.

  Eighteen million. I ran the numbers in my head. At that level we’d all get out whole, Orchestra, me, Guy, Owen, Ingrid, my father. In fact, we’d make a small profit.

  ‘That’s not bad.’

  ‘Not bad? It’s bloody awful! Two months ago this business was worth two hundred million. It’s grown since then and now it’s worth a poxy eighteen. I don’t know why I ever hired you as a finance director, Davo. You’re really not very good at sums.’

  ‘I can do the sums,’ I said. ‘In a couple of weeks’ time Ninetyminutes will be worth precisely zero. Eighteen million pounds is eighteen million pounds more than that.’

  Guy sighed in frustration. ‘You make me sick. I chose you as a partner because I thought you were one person I could rely on. Someone I could trust. I thought you understood the vision. I thought you got it. Instead, you’re just as bad as the rest of them. Worse. You betrayed me, Davo. I won’t forget that.’

  He had touched a nerve and he was pressing hard. I was determined not to let it hurt, or at least to ignore the pain.

  ‘You need more than imagination and vision to be a successful businessman, Guy,’ I said. ‘You have to be able to see what’s around you. The world has changed in the last few months. The Internet is not the way to make money. I can see that. The smart money can see that. If you can’t, that’s your problem.’

  ‘Christ, Mel, you talk to him. I can’t,’ muttered Guy.

  Mel spoke. ‘David, I am giving you notice that you are obliged to sell your shares in Ninetyminutes back to the company at their nominal value.’

  ‘What? Sell them? Why?’
/>
  ‘Because you were dismissed “with cause”.’

  ‘What does that mean?’

  ‘It means that since you were passing confidential information to another company to be used against Ninetyminutes, Guy had cause to dismiss you. Under the terms of your contract, in those circumstances Ninetyminutes can require you to sell your shares at their nominal value. Which is one p, by the way.’

  ‘One p?’

  ‘That means you get fifty thousand pennies,’ said Guy, with an unpleasant smile.

  ‘That’s ridiculous. I didn’t talk to Champion Starsat until after Guy had fired me.’

  ‘You were gathering confidential information while you were at Ninetyminutes with the intention of using it against the company.’

  ‘Bollocks. You can’t prove any of that.’

  ‘Oh, can’t we?’ said Mel.

  ‘No. I’m getting a lawyer.’

  ‘It had better be a good one.’

  ‘It will be.’ I stood up. ‘You’re dragging Ninetyminutes down, Guy, and screwing me won’t save it.’

  I left the building, seething. Guy couldn’t get his hands on my fifty thousand investment for five hundred quid. That would be totally unfair.

  As I thought it over, I realized that Mel and Guy almost certainly had no case. They were trying to intimidate me, or infuriate me, or both. But I would go and see that lawyer.

  Mel was clearly enjoying the whole thing. She was sitting where she wanted to be, next to Guy. Ingrid was right, she was filling the role of trusted adviser that used to be mine, and she was loving it. Mel and I had historically been on the same side. It was sad to see her as an adversary. But if I was Guy’s enemy, I was hers too, I could see that.

  I met Ingrid for lunch in a café near Baker Street, only a few tube stops from Farringdon. We didn’t want to run the risk of bumping into anyone from Ninetyminutes. I told her about Mel and Guy, and asked her how the board meeting had gone.

  ‘It was tense,’ Ingrid said. ‘Guy was in a foul mood after seeing you. We began with the resolution to remove you as a director. It should have been a formality, but Guy wouldn’t stop ranting about what a traitor you were. Silverman had to calm him down so we could focus on the offer from Champion Starsat.’

 

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