The anger was shuddering through Metzinger, initially at his awareness of how his coup had been turned against him now that Collington had South African government support, and then with the realisation that there was nothing he could do to argue against the man, because he would be damning himself out of his own mouth.
‘Some time ago,’ took up Collington, ‘I was given to understand that the government in Pretoria was anxious to obtain a guaranteed energy supply.’ He stopped, looking pointedly at Metzinger. The gaze of the deputy chairman wavered and fell to the photostats on the table before him. Collington started speaking again, encapsulating the negotiations throughout Europe with the Prince and the arrangements he had agreed, both for payment and for the shipment of the oil, through English, American and Dutch cover companies.
‘We will have grant aid for refinery and tanker construction and full and exclusive distribution rights throughout this country,’ Collington concluded.
‘But that’s fantastic!’ said Jenkins. ‘The profit will be enormous.’
‘Providing the arrangements continue as they have begun, in absolute secrecy,’ qualified Collington.
‘You seem to have anticipated that,’ said Brooking.
‘I have an unusual proposal to make to the meeting,’ said Collington. ‘But first I want to establish if it is the wish of this board to remain in closed session.’
As he spoke he looked towards the Afrikaners. Metzinger continued to gaze at the table. Both Wassenaar and de Villiers shook their heads. Collington turned to Wall and nodded. The assistant went to the door connecting the boardroom to Collington’s office, everyone straining around from the table to see what was happening.
A sound came from Metzinger when he saw Knoetze, a gasp which seemed to stretch into a groan. Collington rose to introduce the security chief to the assembled directors. Wall offered the man a chair, but instead of sitting down Knoetze remained upright. He smiled familiarly at Metzinger, nodding and greeting the man by name; as Metzinger struggled for a response, a faint expression of curiosity passed over Knoetze’s face.
‘I welcome the invitation to come to talk to you today,’ said Knoetze. ‘Firstly to express my personal admiration and also that of my government for the conduct throughout the negotiations of your chairman, James Collington. But more so to impress upon you the delicacy of their nature. It is vital that they remain as discreet as they have been so far. We are already witnessing in America the effect of an international embarrassment. South Africa does not want a repetition of that happening here. We have decided to progress because we are convinced that the integrity of your chairman extends to the managing board. It goes without saying, of course, for any public knowledge of this arrangement would cost your various companies untold millions. You have the assurance of my government that you will remain absolutely protected. We seek the same assurances from you.’
And there was the door, closed, locked and firmly bolted behind Metzinger, thought Collington. He had not expected the security chief to be as eloquent. There was an almost uncomfortable silence around the table and Collington said, ‘I have already given my personal assurance. I now invite the board to respond.’
From around the table there were movements and gestures of assent. One of the last was Metzinger. Collington was staring at the man, waiting, and as he made the pledge Collington decided that he had secured the windows, as well as the door. Strangely he had expected it to take longer. But then the meeting wasn’t over yet.
Knoetze looked to where Wall was sitting at the side table. ‘I would appreciate there being no record of my attendance here,’ he said.
‘There won’t be,’ promised Collington.
Knoetze hesitated, wondering if there were any more for him to say and then nodded generally towards the table. Wall stood to escort him from the room.
Jenkins was the first to respond. ‘I think the chairman deserves a vote of thanks from this board, for what appears to be a highly original but successful negotiation,’ he said.
Jamieson was about to react, too, but Collington raised his hand, stopping the man. ‘I have something further to say.’
There had been a relaxation from the English side of the board, but now they turned to concentrate upon him again.
‘Some weeks ago,’ said Collington, moving the early morning reminder notes from his pocket, ‘I came to suspect that there was an improper share proposal being mounted against a certain division within the SAGOMI holdings ….’ He stopped, looking around the table. There had been expectant smiles when he had begun talking, but now they were fading.
‘… I concluded that it was a bear operation,’ resumed Collington. ‘I estimated the number of shares involved, initially, at 253,000, all from our mining divison ….’
He was looking directly at Metzinger and Wassenaar. They were completely still, gazing up the table at him rigid-faced, knowing they had been caught.
‘Why weren’t we informed?’ demanded Platt.
‘For me to have discussed it openly without a vestige of proof would have laid me open to an accusation of libel. Instead, I decided personally to oppose any fluctuation within the company by creating a protection. I placed automatic purchase orders at five points below par.’
‘Which came into operation after the bombings?’ remembered Jenkins.
‘But America caused the sabotage: they’ve admitted it,’ frowned Jamieson.
‘The bombings were quite coincidental to the share coup,’ said Collington.
‘Are you suggesting,’ said Platt slowly, ‘that you suspect some directors, either of the parent company or of a subsidiary holding, attempted to engage in some illegal manipulation?’
‘I believe that my action, in view of the paper profit so far accruing on the purchased shares, could be construed as such. It is for that reason that I am making this declaration now and intend a full statement at the shareholders’ meeting next week. I propose today that an independent firm of auditors is called in immediately. I will make available to them all details of my share holdings and dealings in recent weeks. I want all purchases and exchanges to become public for discussion at the annual meeting.’
‘Such an investigation should disclose the vendors of the 253,000 shares,’ said Platt quickly.
‘Yes,’ said Collington, regarding Metzinger again. ‘My dealings form the reason for the audit and the audit will provide the proof I wasn’t able to assemble.’
Wassenaar looked abruptly to Metzinger, expecting the man to react in some way. The deputy chairman made an ineffectual movement with his hands. ‘There could be an explanation,’ he volunteered weakly.
‘Then it can be offered to the shareholders,’ said Collington. ‘I intend throwing the meeting open for a full vote of confidence.’
‘I second the motion to call in auditors,’ said Platt.
‘Any other views?’ demanded Collington, looking to the Afrikaners’ side of the table. No one moved.
‘I would like a recorded vote,’ said Collington mercilessly. Neither Metzinger nor Wassenaar could abstain and they would be voting for their own destruction. Reluctantly the hands went up to form a unanimous decision. Still Collington hadn’t finished with them. ‘There is a final matter,’ he said. ‘The share block was created on margin purchases. I provided the money for that, but there is an outstanding settlement debt to brokers of £103,000,000.’
‘Can we legally provide liquidity?’ asked Jamieson.
‘As a company, to prevent improper share speculation, we can,’ assured Collington. ‘At current stock parity I would like to offer, for company absorption, the shares for which I have made myself responsible.’
‘That’s five points above what you paid for them,’ protested de Villiers.
‘On a £15,000,000 loan,’ reminded Collington. ‘The share sale profit will pay the interest for which I am liable on that loan. I will personally make no financial profit whatsoever. Nor do I seek to.’
‘I’ll make the
purchase a formal proposal,’ said Jenkins.
‘Seconded,’ said Platt.
‘Earlier in this meeting, I also suggested that the chairman be thanked,’ reminded Jenkins. ‘That motion was not proceeded with. I would like to propose it again: I think what the chairman has done in protection of this company has been magnificent.’
‘I hope everyone feels that way,’ said Collington.
Wassenaar and Metzinger went immediately from the board meeting to Metzinger’s offices where Wassenaar burst out in anger; he quickly subsided when Metzinger refused to argue back. The older man sat bent forward over his desk, eyes fixed upon some point in the carpet.
‘What are we going to do?’ demanded Wassenaar. ‘We’re trapped. Completely and utterly trapped.’
‘I know,’ said Metzinger dully.
‘Any audit will disclose our sale orders. And he can guide them to it. He knows. How else could he have quoted the number that we placed?’
‘I’m sorry, Jan,’ said Metzinger slowly. ‘I led you into it and I’m sorry.’
The contrition momentarily silenced Wassenaar: he was conscious for the first time of the completeness of Metzinger’s defeat.
‘Marius,’ he said, his voice quietly coaxing. ‘We’ve got to do something. I know company law and I know criminal law, where it’s applicable. We’ve committed a crime we could be tried for. And we will be, if the audit goes ahead.’
Metzinger stirred himself, the effort obvious. ‘There is nothing,’ he said.
‘A deal,’ said Wassenaar, his legal training emerging. ‘We’ve got to offer a deal.’
Metzinger tried to concentrate. ‘To make a deal, we’d have to have something to offer,’ he said emptily. ‘We haven’t got anything.’
‘Yes we have, Marius.’
‘What?’
‘Our places on the board. And the ‘A’ shares.’
‘Oh no!’ The despair groaned from Metzinger at his acceptance of the sacrifice.
‘It’s a possibility,’ insisted Wassenaar eagerly. ‘They don’t want any more upheavals after everything that’s happened. Collington said so himself. That’s our bargain. Our resignations in return for cancellation of the audit. And with no public disclosures, there would be no public damage. Either to us. Or the company.’
‘He’d win,’ said Metzinger.
‘He’s won,’ corrected Wassenaar.
‘I can’t do it.’
‘Would you rather have the disgrace of a trial? Maybe even a jail sentence? With Janet involved as well?’
Metzinger leaned forward against the desk, his head in his hands.
‘No,’ he said again.
‘If you don’t make the approach, then I will,’ said Wassenaar.
Metzinger looked up at him and Wassenaar saw the man’s eyes were wet. ‘So you’re abandoning me?’
‘No, Marius. I’m saving myself.’
Metzinger looked away, staring towards the internal intercom machine which linked his office with that of Collington. He pushed his hand across the table towards it, stopping just short of the button that would connect him to Geoffrey Wall.
‘The only way,’ urged Wassenaar, by his side.
Jerkily, Metzinger depressed the button. Wall’s voice came on the line at once.
‘I’d like to see the chairman immediately,’ said Metzinger, his voice dry.
‘He’s expecting you,’ said Wall.
‘So the panic is over?’ said Krotkov.
Leonov nodded, realising that for the first time in months that he wasn’t knotted with tension. ‘They couldn’t give a damn about gold any more. All they want is oil. And we’re in surplus.’
‘What’s involved in changing the contracts?’
‘Hardly anything, having both agreed. Cultural attaches could exchange signatures at embassy level.’
‘And they’re not attempting to alter grain levels against us?’
‘The reverse,’ said Leonov. ‘They’ve allowed an escalator clause for us to increase the importation if our needs go up.’
‘Can we trust Collington that his only advantage is the obvious one – the profit he’ll make from shipment?’
Leonov hesitated. ‘We’ve had no cause whatsoever to doubt him so far.’
‘What’s the decision going to be, do you think?’
‘The Politburo directorate have already made it,’ disclosed Leonov. ‘The oil companies which the man is forming are to be offered, through the Amsterdam brokerage, exclusive transportation rights.’
‘He’ll make a lot,’ said Krotkov.
‘He risked a lot,’ reminded Leonov.
Chapter Forty-one
It was a subdued meeting: Collington had anticipated an atmosphere, but not one of embarrassment. Yet that was the predominant attitude from the directors whom he had reconvened for the second board meeting in one day.
‘I’m astonished,’ said Jenkins, breaking the silence after Collington had disclosed his encounter with Metzinger.
‘If we agree to the terms, we’ll be concealing a crime,’ said Platt. ‘We can’t do it.’
‘We’ve no proof of a crime at the moment,’ said Collington. ‘And we haven’t yet briefed auditors. If we rescind that decision, and if the board is satisfied that I have provided a full explanation of my involvement, then technically we’re not in breach of the law.’
‘That’s debatable,’ argued Platt.
‘It’s also practical,’ said Jenkins. ‘Amazingly, in recent weeks we’ve withstood a number of events which might seriously have disturbed the confidence of our shareholders. If this were made public, it would cause the slide we’ve so far avoided.’
‘There’s also the undertaking we gave at the earlier meeting to Knoetze,’ reminded Jamieson. ‘There would be no way we could announce what Metzinger and Wassenaar have been attempting without the negotiations with the Saudis becoming known.’
‘And the deal would be wrecked,’ said Collington, coming out in support.
‘The only effect would be one of upheaval,’ said Brooking, assessing the majority feeling and moving with it.
‘They’ve shown a certain honour by offering their resignations,’ said de Villiers, attempting a vain defence.
‘They’ve taken the only way out for them to avoid criminal prosecution,’ said Platt. ‘There’s no honour in that.’
‘What’s the effect of their resignations?’ demanded Jenkins.
‘They offer the ‘A’ voting shares for the agreed disposal of the rest of the board, by vote.’
‘What about Mrs Simpson?’ asked Platt.
‘Metzinger exonerates her completely: she acted entirely without knowledge of what was going on. She put her affairs, at Metzinger’s suggestion, into Wassenaar’s hands. His was the decision to place her shares for sale.’
‘So her ‘A’ shares are not included?’ persisted Platt.
‘No,’ said Collington. Of them all, he supposed Platt was being the least hypocritical, openly acknowledging the opportunity to achieve absolute British supremacy.
‘I do not consider that anything would be gained by bringing this affair into the open,’ said Jenkins. ‘Rather, I think it would be detrimental to the interests of SAGOMI. I move we accept the resignations. And close the matter there.’
‘I second,’ said de Villiers.
‘Before a vote,’ said Platt, ‘I’d like to discover if anyone has any views on the disposal of the ‘A’ shares.’
‘There are two hundred,’ said Collington. ‘I propose they are equally divided between the remaining directors.’ He could afford to be generous with the disbursement: there was no possibility, ever again, of the Afrikaners gaining control. Where, wondered Collington once more, was any feeling of triumph?
The response, surprisingly, came from de Villiers, a concession of absolute defeat. ‘That’s very fair,’ said the accountant.
With an almost bullying tenacity, Platt persisted relentlessly. ‘I think another approach sho
uld be made to Mrs Simpson, offering a board absorption, for equal disbursement, of her two hundred ‘A’ shares,’ he said.
There was no reason for his feeling of reluctance, Collington knew. Everything he had done had been for this moment: after the battle that decided the war, it was always necessary to pursue the enemy in defeat, mopping up the stragglers and ensuring, absolutely, that there could be no unexpected counter-attack. Metzinger and Wassenaar were disposing of two hundred shares. If Janet Simpson – shortly to become Metzinger’s wife – retained her two hundred, then through her Metzinger’s influence would not have diminished at all.
‘I have an amendment,’ he said, stirring himself at last. His control was absolute and everyone in the room looked towards him waiting, ‘I consider that we should refuse the resignation offers of the deputy chairman and Wassenaar unless they include the disposal offer of the ‘A’ shares held by Mrs Simpson.’
‘But you said she was uninvolved,’ said de Villiers, in weak protest.
Everyone in the room recognised that Collington was determined to remove for ever any possibility of Afrikaner control by taking the shares from Simpson’s widow. He waited for anyone to take up de Villiers’ point. No one spoke and Collington said, ignoring the remaining Afrikaner, ‘That is my amendment.’
‘Seconded,’ said Platt. He smiled towards Collington, as if grateful for the man’s decision to remove any danger in the future.
‘Amendment for discussion?’ invited Collington. He spoke to de Villiers, knowing there could be no other opposition. The Afrikaner accountant collapsed further, shaking his head and refusing to meet Collington’s stare.
‘The amendment to be voted upon,’ decided Collington. He had expected de Villiers to be the last to vote, but his hand went up first.
Gold Page 34