Trading Reality

by Michael Ridpath

  He lined up a tee-shot and hit it hard and to the right of the green. The wind pulled it back, and the ball landed only a few feet short. Sorenson pursed his lips in quiet satisfaction. My own ball had travelled exactly half the distance of Sorenson’s. As we walked over to it, Sorenson continued, ‘I like working with guys your age. There is no place for someone like me to come up with new technology any more. I don’t have the stamina. But the right people, I can help.’

  ‘How do you do it?’ I asked. Sorenson was suddenly very important to FairSystems’ future. I was curious to find out more about him.

  ‘Part of it I learned on the football field,’ he said. ‘To win a football game, you need many of the same skills you need in business. The will to win, teamwork, a mixture of planning and opportunism, and you mustn’t be afraid to give the ball to the best guys on the team, and let them do what they can with it. I guess I just learned how to motivate people, starting with myself.’

  ‘How did you start out?’

  ‘When I left graduate school, I joined NASA. In the sixties, it seemed like mankind’s future was out there, somewhere in space. Eventually, I realised that was all wrong. The future lay in micro-electronics, in nanoseconds rather than light years.

  ‘A couple of geniuses I knew at Stanford had joined Xerox’s Palo Alto Research Center. It was probably the major centre for computer research in the seventies. They had been working on Graphical User Interfaces, which are basically software systems that make it easier for a layman to use a computer. They had some good commercial ideas, but Xerox didn’t want to back them. They didn’t quite have the courage to start out on their own. So I helped them.

  ‘We called the company Cicero Scientific. It was a hell of a lot of fun. The technology all came from the other two. I just kind of held the whole thing together. We sold out four years later to Softouch for eighty million dollars.’

  Wow! Eighty million dollars! You could bet Sorenson had had a good bit of that action. I suddenly realised that the big man walking along next to me was probably the richest man I had ever met.

  The name Softouch rang a bell. ‘Didn’t I see Softouch in the papers a couple of years ago?’ I asked. ‘Wasn’t it in some kind of trouble?’

  The enthusiasm left Sorenson’s voice. ‘It sure was,’ he said.

  I decided he didn’t want to pursue it. I lined up a seven iron and hit my ball cleanly and evenly into a bunker. Bugger! It sometimes took me three shots to get out of one of those.

  ‘Nice shot. You were just unlucky with the wind,’ said Sorenson.

  I shrugged my shoulders. ‘So then what did you do?’ I asked.

  ‘Well, I played golf more or less full time for six months, but I couldn’t stay away from the business. So I built up a portfolio of interesting companies in America and Europe whose boards I served on. Sometimes I invested in them too. I like to think of myself as a sort of coach. I think I can bring the best out of people. I’ve seen a lot of successes and failures in my time; I can share that experience.’

  I could imagine that Sorenson would be good in that role. He was a good listener, but he also had authority. If he believed that you could do something, you would probably go right out and do it.

  ‘And how does FairSystems line up against all these companies you’ve seen?’ I asked.

  He turned towards me. ‘I tell you, Mark, it has real potential. One of the best. And virtual reality will be the computer market of the next decade.’

  ‘That’s what Richard said. I’m not sure I truly believed him.’

  ‘Well, you should have. Most of the breakthroughs in computer technology over the last twenty years have come from getting more and more power on smaller and smaller chips. But you still have to be a computer jock to deal with a computer. That’s got to change. You remember I spoke about Graphical User Interface, how people talk to computers? That’s where the next great strides will come. And virtual reality is the ultimate user interface. When a person is actually in a computer generated world, can talk to it, point within it, then the computer disappears as a barrier. Computer and user become one. I’m convinced that a whole new range of human activity will become possible. Anything to do with creating something, or any communication between people in different physical locations, will be vastly improved by virtual reality.’

  We started walking towards the bunker. ‘You hear about all the obvious applications for design, entertainment, training and so on. But the really exciting applications we can’t even visualise now, because we haven’t lived for long enough in a world with virtual reality. It’s the same with all new technologies – electricity, the telephone, the computer – until you’ve lived with them for a while, you don’t know what they will really be used for.’

  I looked closely at Sorenson. He wasn’t bullshitting me. He really meant it.

  I trudged down into the bunker and hacked about a bit. Finally the ball bobbled on to the green.

  My thoughts drifted back to Richard. I asked the question that had been on my mind all week. ‘Do you know why Richard was killed?’

  ‘No idea,’ he said. ‘I’ve been trying to figure that out myself. Do you know if the police have gotten anywhere yet?’

  ‘No. They’re asking a lot of questions.’

  ‘Damn right they are. They came to see me yesterday afternoon. I spent hours with them. Do you have any ideas?’

  ‘Well, I know something was on Richard’s mind,’ I said. I told Sorenson about Richard’s anxious plea for me to come to see him. ‘Did he call you about anything in the week before he died?’

  ‘No, I don’t think so.’ Sorenson paused a moment. ‘I don’t think we spoke all week. I know he was worried about the cash position at FairSystems. So was I. I still am, for that matter. But I didn’t get the impression there was a particularly urgent problem.’

  ‘What about FairSystems’ share trading?’

  ‘No, he didn’t mention that either. I guess the shares have been falling because investors are worried about the risk. And that makes some sense to me. Mind you, there’s not much I can do about it. I can’t sell my shares until two years after flotation. Not that I hold many anyway, just enough to keep my interest up.’

  FairSystems’ future worried me, too. ‘Now Richard has . . .’ I hesitated, ‘gone,’ I said finally, ‘won’t FairSystems fall apart?’

  Sorenson rubbed his chin. ‘It could, but I hope it won’t.’

  ‘But Richard was behind most of the technology, wasn’t he?’

  ‘To some extent, especially in the early days,’ said Sorenson. ‘But there’s a lot more to FairSystems than just Richard. He worked very closely with a girl called Rachel Walker. Rachel has just about every FairSystems development in her head, and she has good people working for her. And then much of the technology isn’t FairSystems’ at all. Richard was excellent at putting together technical partnerships. There’s a whole array of technologies that go into a virtual reality system. What FairSystems does is pull them all together.’

  I listened intently. Sorenson went on. ‘One of Richard’s greatest skills was motivating people like Rachel and bringing in all his technical partners. That’s what will be difficult to replicate. But we’ll try.’

  Sorenson took a long putt, and winced as it came to rest an inch short of the hole. My ball went in in two, and we moved on to the next tee. I was pleased with myself. My game hadn’t fallen apart completely yet.

  ‘I’m looking forward to seeing the company tomorrow,’ I said.

  ‘It’ll be interesting to see what you think. Don’t underestimate Rachel. She’s brilliant. She knows as much about VR as anyone else in the world.

  ‘She’s running the company jointly with a guy called David Baker. He’s more of a businessman. I rate him. He’s got a Harvard MBA, but he’s hungry, know what I mean? He wants FairSystems to go places. And he’s signed up a pretty impressive client list for such a small company.’

  ‘Do you think the combination will wor
k?’ I asked.

  ‘In theory they should complement each other perfectly,’ said Sorenson, chipping his ball on to the green. ‘In practice, I don’t know. I just don’t know.’

  ‘Shouldn’t we just sell out? Richard told me he’d been approached by a buyer.’

  ‘That may be the right decision. Personally, I’d like to see what state the company is in before making up my mind. But there’s one problem.’

  ‘Oh? What’s that?’

  ‘Your father.’

  ‘My father?’

  ‘Yes. He doesn’t want to sell.’

  ‘He doesn’t want to sell? Why not? We should get out while we can.’

  ‘He’s adamant. He feels that FairSystems was so important to Richard that it would be wrong to sell. He says Richard didn’t want to sell out, so he doesn’t think we should.’

  ‘Can’t you persuade him he’s wrong?’

  Sorenson stopped by the next tee, stood up straight and looked at me. ‘Geoff told me that you and he haven’t spoken to each other for ten years. And after what he did to Gina, I guess I can understand that. Maybe.’ He sighed, and looked out to sea for a moment, as if searching for something. ‘But you and your father are FairSystems’ two biggest shareholders. If you two have differences of opinion about what you want to do with the company, as chairman, I have to insist that you resolve them. The company doesn’t need that uncertainty hanging over it.’

  His eyes locked on mine, and he said slowly, with absolute authority, ‘Mark. You’ve got to talk to him.’

  I held his gaze for a moment. He was right.

  ‘OK,’ I said, and sliced my ball into the rough.

  The sun shone off Detective Superintendent Donaldson’s bald pate, as he sat bolt upright at the old oak table in Richard’s kitchen. Kerr slouched next to him. We all sipped mugs of tea.

  ‘We’ve made some progress with our inquiries,’ Donaldson was saying. ‘We’d like to ask you a few more questions in the light of what we’ve discovered.’

  ‘Go ahead,’ I said with interest.

  ‘We’ve found the murder weapon. Your brother was killed by a blow from a firewood axe, probably whilst he was turning to look at his attacker. We found the axe in a hedge in a lane just off the road to Glenrothes.’

  ‘Oh, right. I remember Richard chopping wood when I came to stay with him last winter,’ I said.

  ‘Would you be able to identify the axe?’ asked Donaldson.

  I thought for a moment and shook my head. ‘No, I really can’t remember what it looked like.’

  ‘Never mind. We’re pretty sure the murderer was someone your brother knew. There are no signs that the door was forced. The front door, and a number of surfaces in the kitchen, were wiped clean. This suggests that your brother let the murderer into the kitchen, and then took him out to the boathouse.’

  I was listening carefully.

  ‘It probably wasn’t premeditated,’ continued Donaldson. ‘The axe was just the nearest weapon to hand. If the murder was planned, then the killer would have brought his own weapon. There are no signs that anything was stolen, although we can’t be completely sure about that.’

  ‘Any fingerprints?’ I asked.

  ‘No,’ said Donaldson. ‘As I said, all the surfaces in the kitchen were wiped down with a cloth. So was the axe. No footprints either. Nor any fibre evidence.’

  ‘Do you have any suspects?’

  Donaldson frowned. ‘Patience, son. A murder investigation takes time. A lot of officers, a lot of time. But we’ll get there.’

  I looked appropriately chastened.

  ‘Now, we’ve learned that Mr Fairfax had an argument with one of his colleagues, David Baker, on Friday, the day before he died. Apparently, Baker was so angry he stormed off home immediately afterwards. You mentioned that your brother spoke to you about problems at FairSystems a couple of times over the last few weeks?’

  I nodded.

  ‘Did he ever mention David Baker?’

  ‘No. I hadn’t heard of him until Walter Sorenson mentioned him a few days ago.’

  ‘So he gave no indication that Baker had anything to do with whatever was worrying him?’

  ‘No, none at all.’

  ‘I see,’ said Donaldson. He referred to his notes. ‘And what about BOWL?’

  ‘BOWL?’

  ‘Yes. It stands for the Brave Old World League. It’s a group of activists who believe that new technology will ruin society. They are particularly upset about virtual reality.’

  ‘I think Richard did mention something about some people like that,’ I said. It had been during a conversation several months before. I struggled to remember more about it. ‘Hadn’t one of his people joined them? Doug? Dougie? Something like that.’

  ‘That’s right,’ said Kerr. ‘Doogie Fisher worked for FairSystems until last year, when he joined BOWL. It’s quite a secretive organisation – more like a network, really – a group of individuals in Britain and America. Most of them seem to be disillusioned technical people; at any rate, they seem to know a lot about computers. They are prepared to use violence to achieve their ends. A couple of months ago, there was a spate of letter bombs sent to virtual reality companies in the UK. None caused any damage. We think that Doogie, or one of his colleagues, was behind it.’

  ‘And you think this Doogie might have been involved in Richard’s death?’

  ‘It’s a possible line of inquiry,’ said Donaldson. ‘But you can’t tell us anything about him?’

  I shook my head. I wanted to help. I wished I had listened more closely when Richard had spoken about BOWL. But I hadn’t. It had seemed so far away then. So remote from my everyday life.

  ‘We’ve followed up your brother’s suspicions about manipulation of FairSystems’ shares,’ Donaldson continued. ‘The Stock Exchange are looking into it now, and they are consulting with the authorities in America.’

  ‘Oh really? Have they found anything?’

  ‘They’re still gathering data. But to go back to the evening when Richard Fairfax asked you to look into FairSystems’ share price. Did you?’

  ‘Yes. Or rather Karen did.’

  ‘Karen Chilcott. Your girlfriend?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘And she discovered nothing?’

  ‘That’s right. FairSystems is such a small stock that it’s only really traded by one firm, Wagner Phillips. When she checked with a friend of hers there, they didn’t know anything. It seemed to us that there was nothing funny going on.’

  ‘I see,’ said Donaldson. ‘Have you traded in FairSystems shares yourself?’

  ‘No. At least not since the company went public.’

  ‘You haven’t sold any?’

  ‘I’m not allowed to. Not for two years.’

  ‘Do you know anyone else who has been involved in the shares?’

  ‘No. Just Karen. And she operates under the same restrictions as me.’

  ‘And does she have any contacts who are involved in FairSystems shares?’

  ‘Of course not!’

  ‘Calm down, Mr Fairfax. Just answer the questions.’

  ‘Let me save you some time,’ I said, successfully controlling my temper. ‘I had no inside information about FairSystems at all. I know virtually nothing about the company. Neither does Karen. In fact, she knows even less than me. So we would have had nothing to tell anyone, even if we had wanted to. In any case, why should we? The shares went down, not up. What would be the point of getting anyone to buy them? If we’d told someone to buy, they’d have lost money.’

  I looked from Donaldson to Kerr, and back to Donaldson. His grey eyes held mine. I knew what I said made sense, and so, I could see, did he.

  ‘All right, Mr Fairfax. But we may have to make some more inquiries.’

  I relaxed. He believed me. And I did want to help. In a way I was pleased he was asking difficult questions. ‘That’s fine with me,’ I replied.

  ‘Thanks for the tea,’ he said, getting up to lea
ve. ‘By the way, make sure you don’t touch anything in the boathouse. There are a lot of technical papers there that we want to go through with Rachel Walker later this week.’

  ‘Fine,’ I said, and saw them out. The last thing I wanted to do was go back in there, anyway.

  7

  I drove fast to Glenrothes. The more I thought about it, the less likely it seemed to me that Donaldson’s suspicions of insider trading would lead anywhere. To be an insider trader you need to have inside information. I had had none, until perhaps Richard had hinted that FairSystems was running out of money again. But that had been only a few days before he’d been killed. Karen had known nothing either.

  I was still a little nervous. In the City, even a hint that you have been involved in something dodgy doesn’t do your reputation any good. I hoped Donaldson wouldn’t ask too many questions.

  I thought about strange movements in share prices. From what little I knew, they were usually moves up, just before a takeover was announced, as people with inside knowledge bought shares in anticipation of the announcement. But FairSystems’ shares had moved down not up. Despite Richard’s theories, I saw nothing mysterious about that.

  I arrived at Glenrothes just before lunch. The town sprawled beneath three low hills. It was ringed with industrial estates, each containing blocks of rectangular, windowless metal factories. Grey cloud hung low overhead. There was very little movement, noise or smoke. Whatever machinery there was, was humming away quietly to itself under those metal cocoons.

  Richard had told me a little of Glenrothes’ history. It had been set up as a New Town in the 1940s and had grown with miners flocking from the west of Scotland to exploit the giant Rothes coal pit. This had turned out to be unworkable, and had been closed down after only a few years. Since then the town had enthusiastically embraced the concept of Scotland’s ‘Silicon Glen’, and had managed to attract large sums of foreign investment, much of it in high-technology industries. The biggest employer was the American company, Hughes Electronics.