by John Dysart
When I arrived I was glad to hear that the few guests in the hotel were mostly hikers – bed early and keen to start at the crack of dawn – so we were able to have a quiet supper together and catch up.
Over our venison and dessert I gave her a brief report on what had happened to Liam but didn’t go into details – nor did I mention the death of the Romanian girl.
Come coffee time we repaired to the lounge and relaxed into large comfortable armchairs.
“So, it seems I’m going to have to put up with your company twenty four hours a day for two weeks if I understood your phone call correctly.”
“Ten days,” I corrected her.
“That sounds a bit more reasonable. I’m not sure I could last a full two weeks.”
She was grinning and her eyes were twinkling mischievously. She got up and came over to sit and snuggle up beside me on the sofa. Her head dropped onto my shoulder. There are sometimes things that are more easily said or discussed when two people are not looking directly at each other.
From down below my left ear I heard her soft voice.
“And what put this idea into your head?”
“Pierre actually, believe it or not,” I replied.
“Pierre suggested we go on a cruise to Norway?”
“Not exactly. Pierre, in the role of older brother, told me that I should make up my mind soon where you and I are going. He suggested that just seeing each other occasionally was perhaps not being fair to you.”
She snuggled closer.
“And….?”
“And so I said to myself that we wouldn’t broach the topic at all this weekend but perhaps a ten day cruise would be nice.”
“You’re a bloody great coward, Bob Bruce.”
“True.”
There was quiet for a few moments and then she said,
“So Pierre thinks we should decide where we’re going?”
She put her hand on my knee for a few seconds then lifted it up and with two fingers started walking north up my thigh.
She looked up with a grin. “But I know where we’re going.”
“Do you?” I said with a certain nervousness.
Her fingers reached their objective, lingered there for a few seconds then she started to get up.
“Yep! To bed. Come on. We’re too old for the rug in front of the fire.”
*
It wasn’t long after breakfast the next morning when Helen Mackie called.
“Mr. Bruce?”
“Yes.”
“Helen Mackie here. I’m sorry to disturb you but have you a moment?”
Her voice was softer than the last time we had spoken - almost apologetic. I told her to go ahead.
“First of all I wanted to apologise for being a bit short and unfriendly at our last meeting but I hope you can understand that I was pretty upset at the time.”
“That’s alright. What can I do for you?”
“Mr. Bruce, this is perhaps a bit of an imposition but perhaps I can explain.”
I waited for her to continue.
“I’m a scientist and a bit naïve in the world of finance. When my partner and I started Bioscope and I was trying to raise money I met a very helpful man at Albion Venture Capital, one of our investors, who I’ve been able to turn to whenever I needed advice but he has now left the company and something has happened that I’m puzzled by and not at all happy about.
“Because you told me that you had been a finance man I made a few enquiries and the feedback that I got was very positive so I thought I’d take the risk and call you to see if, in spite of what has happened, we might possibly meet and discuss my problem. I know it’s an imposition and I’d understand if you said ‘No’, but I’d like to ask your advice about what I should do.”
Being naturally curious I asked her what had happened.
“Albion has been approached by M. Dugain of LyonPharma with an offer to buy their shares in Bioscope.”
“Good heavens. That seems a bit strange.”
“I know. I agree. And as you know what happened I thought I’d call you.”
What could be the reason behind that? It didn’t seem to make much sense at first. However, I’d think about that later. More important was the reaction of the Venture Capital company.
“What did Albion reply?”
“Well, as I told you, the man I’ve been used to dealing with and who knew the company from the beginning has left the company and a new man has taken over his portfolio. He told me that the price offered represented a decent return for them and, bearing in mind that we had missed out on our patent application, he thought he would be recommending to his board to accept the offer.”
“What percentage of the share capital do they have?”
“Forty percent.”
“And the rest?”
“Richard and I have twenty, the other venture capital company has twenty eight and Antoine de Clermont has twelve.”
I did a quick calculation. Forty plus twelve would give control. Helen had no reason to doubt Antoine’s loyalty but I did. I said nothing about that for the moment.
“OK. I’m up in the Cairngorms this weekend but I’ll be travelling back down on Monday. I can easily come by via Stirling. Why don’t we meet for lunch?”
She agreed with a relieved voice and we fixed a time and a place. I asked her for the number of the Albion Venture Capital firm and told her I’d call them on my way down and ask them to delay their response.
She thanked me very much and we hung up.
Now here was a development that was much more up my street compared with dead girls, Romanian mafia and medical research. The psychology, strategy and tactics of acquisitions were fun. I’d done a fair amount of it in my time and the idea of getting involved again gave me a distinct buzz. But I’d leave that until Monday. Meanwhile I had a weekend to enjoy.
The weather was perfect. We walked the hills, read and just appreciated each other’s company. A game of Scrabble in the evening was a welcome change from sitting watching some rubbish on the television.
We agreed not to talk about the future for the moment. We would wait until after Norway. Ten days cruising up the fjords together would tell us something.
*
I set off down south on Monday morning planning to stop again at Birnam and make a couple of phone calls. Going home via Stirling wouldn’t be too much of a detour and I was quite looking forward to seeing if I could assist Helen. Here was a way to help her and to make up in some degree for what had happened with Liam.
As soon as I was ensconced in the deserted lounge of the Birnam Hotel with my coffee I pulled out my phone and dialled a number.
“Ian McLeish speaking.”
Ian was an old acquaintance who had been appointed to sort out the mess at AIM. I had helped him and he had gained a lot of kudos from his work there. He owed me a favour.
“Hi Iain, Bob Bruce here. How are you?”
“Fine thanks. What can I do for you, Bob?”
“A small favour. Do you by any chance know any of the partners at Albion Venture Capital?
“Yes. Alec Smith is a buddy of mine. Why?”
“Could you please give him a call in the next five minutes and tell him to expect a call from me? Could you tell him we know each other and I’m someone to be trusted?”
“Anywhere except on a golf course!” he replied. “Sure I’ll do that. No problem. Do I need to tell him what it’s about?”
“Don’t worry about that. It’s just that I need to speak to him as soon as possible. I’ll call him in fifteen minutes.”
*
I whiled away the next ten minutes flicking through the newspaper marvelling at the rubbish they managed to find to fill up the spaces in between the advertisements. A three word headline and a photograph was all that filled the front page! I checked the latest report on Justin Rose’s performance in some tournament on the American golf circuit and
noted that he’d cashed in another three hundred thousand dollars for four days golf.
I amused myself by calculating that he had won just over a thousand dollars for each shot that he’d hit which compared rather favourably with my golf economics. In my case each shot cost me about fifty pence. It’s interesting to think that if you’re a professional, the fewer shots you hit the more you earn per shot. Whereas, as an amateur, the more shots you take the less each shot costs you.
I got through straight away to Alec Smith and introduced myself. He had just heard from Iain and was quite happy to listen.
I told him that I was a consultant working with Helen Mackie of Bioscope and she had informed me that she had heard that Albion had just received a proposition for their shares in her company.
He wasn’t yet aware of this but promised me he would speak to the portfolio manager about it.
“I don’t know the details of the offer,” I said “but I understand that it is reasonable. I know you have a business to run but I wondered if you could possibly delay your reply, at least until I have a chance to discuss it with Helen and possibly with yourself.”
“Is there any particular reason for this?”
I had prepared my answer in advance because I had expected this question.
“I know that Bioscope has just lost out on a recent patent application but the company has two other important projects which you may not be aware of and which, in our view, could have a major positive effect on the value of the company. Helen and I would like a week or so to finalise a presentation to you so that you can make a better judgment on the proposition you’ve received. We’ll come and tell you about them. I wouldn’t like to think that you might sell now and miss out on a future gain because you didn’t have a chance to examine things properly.”
He laughed at my pitch but agreed that my request was reasonable and we fixed on a date in ten days time for a meeting.
I thanked him and hung up. We’d bought some time which is always important. I finished my coffee and headed down the A9 for Perth and then Stirling.
Helen and I had arranged to meet at a small Italian restaurant. I arrived five minutes late, having eventually found a car park after ten minutes of cursing the bloody one way system in the middle of town.
We ordered and I proposed that Christian name terms were called for. Although I’m getting on a bit I still prefer that. She agreed.
Helen graciously started the conversation by asking after Liam. I told her that we had tracked down the boy Rémy in Edinburgh and how that had led us back to his girlfriend and we had proof that she had indeed been behind a targeted operation against Liam. I felt it better to say nothing about her murder.
“Well, I suppose in a way I’m glad for him. And I’m glad I was wrong in accusing him of what I did. But I was pretty upset at the time as you can imagine. We’ve more or less got over our disappointment.” She shrugged her shoulders with a wan look.”That’s life I suppose.”
Our pasta arrived and we set to. Then she went on.
“In any case, LyonPharma have still got their clinical trials to do. Who knows what that will bring up?”
“What clinical trials do they have to do? ”
“Have you any idea the testing that will have to be done to make sure that this drug would have no side effects?”
“No.”
“Probably at least three years of testing. Then they’ll need to get approval from the authorities. But if all goes well, it would be so much better than anything that’s available it would make a fortune. I’d have had to link up with a bigger company anyway to be able to finance the research and have access to a distribution network.”
“And it wouldn’t have been LyonPharma?”
“No way. I’d have been looking for a company with a better reputation than that.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’ll bet you they bring it onto the market within two years. They’ll cut corners, fudge the results and push it through. It’s been done before.” I was dumbfounded by her comment.
“How would they get it through the authorities?”
“Big money talks. Don’t kid yourself.”
I looked at her in amazement. I’d heard of cases of drugs being withdrawn from the market because unexpected side effects had cropped up but had assumed that these were genuine mistakes. Very sad for the sufferers but I could understand that you can’t test a drug for ever and you can never be one hundred percent sure. If in the meantime a treatment saves thousands of lives at the expense of a few unfortunate cases of unforeseen side effects, I suppose on balance it’s worth it. But too cavalier an approach was definitely unacceptable.
“Anyway we’re now concentrating on the other two projects and they’re going better than we had hoped.”
By now we were onto the coffee.
“Helen, does anyone outside the company know about these other two projects or their status?”
“No. They know what they are but they don’t know yet that we’ve made significant headway recently and are looking pretty good.”
“What area are they in?” I asked.
“Cancer identification – but I’m not telling you anymore,” she replied with a smile.
“So what’s the reasoning behind this offer that the French have made to buy Albion’s shares? Where’s the logic in that?”
“That’s what I’ve been wondering. And the only conclusion I can come to is that they might be hoping that, if they are a shareholder, they can get access to all the work we have done which might help them in the clinical trial period. They wouldn’t have control but it would be difficult not to give them access. I don’t know what the legal position is on something like that.”
I thought about this for a moment. I suppose it was a possible reason. Even if legally a minority shareholder couldn’t insist on access to internal company documents they certainly could if they had majority control and if Antoine de Clermont sold his shares to them as well they would have fifty two percent. Game over.
I still didn’t want to mention my fears about de Clermont because I didn’t know what Helen’s relationship was with him so, while I ruminated, I steered the conversation towards her general background. I asked her what she’d done before starting up Bioscope.
“Oh, it’s not a very complicated story. I was born and brought up in France. My Dad worked for a multinational company in Lyon. I went to school and university there and, being Scottish, I went on to do a PHD at Edinburgh.
“I had a boyfriend back in France so, after that, I went back to Lyon to work for a pharmaceutical company in their R&D department. That’s where I met Antoine. I stayed about six years. Antoine left and went to LyonPharma but we kept in touch because we’d worked so well together.
“Then the boyfriend bit didn’t work out. I had a few ideas that I wanted to work on so I got back in touch with Richard whom I had met at Edinburgh and ‘here I am’. We each had a bit of money and I got in touch with Antoine. I’d heard about his dreadful accident and thought that perhaps he might be interested in an investment opportunity. He put in some money as well and we trailed around the Venture Capital companies in Edinburgh and Glasgow until we found these two.”
“And is there any danger that the other one might sell their shares?”
“And we lose control you mean? No. I’m quite sure of that. I certainly hope not anyway.”
“Well, I’ve got us some breathing space. I’ve fixed a meeting with Alec Smith in ten days time. Can you and Richard work up a convincing enough presentation with a business plan that shows them it would be in their interests to hang on to their shares? “ We spent some time discussing the kind of information that was needed and how it could be presented.
“If you want to run it by me beforehand just let me know. If that works you’re safe. If not….we’ll see.”
She agreed to that and we parted company - she to get started right away on her presentat
ion and I to drive back home via my favourite watering hole in Glendevon.
I had a lot of thinking to do.
Chapter 9
I ordered a nice cold glass of Chardonnay and took it outside to sit on one of the black wrought iron chairs and to soak up the sun before it disappeared behind the crowding hills. There was hardly any traffic going by on the twisty little road through the narrow glen – another of my favourite stretches of road.
Scotland has many such gems - some just a few miles, some longer and I suppose we each have our favourites.
From Monimail, just a mile from my home in Letham there is a stretch of a few miles which wends through the hills to join the main road to Newburgh. It skirts Lindores Loch with Lindores House sitting on its promontory brooding over the gray flecked waters in winter and smiling at the smooth glassy surface in summer. Perhaps there’d be a man out on the loch, sitting peacefully in a small boat with his rod, trying for trout.
There is the Pass of the Cattle with its horrendous hairpin bends which snakes its way up and over to Applecross.
Or the lovely little single track road that wends its way through the heather down to Kylerhea at the southernmost tip of Skye where the two-car ferry waits to take you over to the mainland to Glenelg. From there the road snakes up and over the hills. At the top, before plunging down to the head of Loch Duich, you can park the car and walk just a few hundred yards north to appreciate one of the most magnificent views in Scotland - to the left, Eilan Donan Castle, the ancient seat of the MacLeods, visible in the distance where Loch Duich, Loch Long and Lochalsh meet at Dornie, and in front, the skyline of the Five Sisters of Kintail .
And there are plenty more.
Sipping my wine I reflected over the events of the last couple of weeks, being able now to add an extra layer of information after my lunch with Helen.
Liam had been indiscreet and been fired from Bioscope. He seemed to be getting over it especially now that he knew he’d been set up. It now seemed definite that the perpetrators had been LyonPharma or an agent of theirs.