The market maker

by Ridpath, Michael

  She listened in amazement. "So Ricardo was behind it all?" she said quietly.

  I nodded. "I'm afraid so."

  She looked out of the window at the Rio suburbs drifting slowly by. "Bastard," she whispered. She turned to me. "It looks like you were right about him after all."

  ''Right now I don't care who's right or wrong," I said. "I'm just glad you're alive."

  She squeezed my hand. "Thank you. Thank you for all you did for me."

  There were loud squeals when we reached Luis's apartment. Cordelia hugged her sister hard and long, and Maria danced around. Fernando was there as well. The excitement roused Isabel out of the daze she had been in since her release, and she became more animated. Within a minute she was on the phone with Luis at the Savoy in London. Tears flowed. Portuguese words were spoken at a hundred miles an hour. I watched with a huge grin on my face.

  The one sour note was Euclides. Cordelia was shaken by news of his death. It had affected me too. But it wouldn't have surprised the boy himself; I doubt he had expected to reach adulthood. Cordelia had been right, he was brave. He had been stupid to take Nelson's gun with him, and to try to sneak up on Zico. But he was only twelve, how could you blame him? He had been trying to save Cordelia's sister and impress us. In fact, he had died with a gun in his hand, having just shot a bad guy; by Euclides's reckoning that probably was a good way to go. But it was a waste. We were all responsible: the Brazilian government and middle class who allowed such poverty and violence in their midst, and more particularly. Nelson, Cordelia, and me, who had armed him and encouraged him on his last adventure. I wouldn't forget Euclides.

  Isabel had a long bath, and then told us about her ordeal. She had been guarded well. For the first couple of weeks she had been kept in a tent inside a basement. Then she had been hurriedly moved up to the farm, and had been imprisoned in a bam with only one window tliat was fixed shut. She had had heat. Light,

  adequate food and drink. She was allowed to wash once a day, and had been given a radio, books, and newspapers. She had only seen her captors wearing masks, until that last day when she had finally seen Zico, but of course she had soon grown to recognize their voices. There seemed to have been five of them who looked after her in shifts.

  Right from the beginning she had decided that her best chance for survival was to cooperate with them, and they had treated her well. She had frequently asked about the progress of negotiations but they had told her nothing. The only indications she had had that there had been any communication with her father were the two proof-of-life questions she had received. The first, asking the name of her teddy bear, had made her sm^ile. It was typical of the sentimentality of her father, and it reminded her of the security of her childhood.

  But through it all she kept calm. She knew that kidnappings could take months, but she also knew that her father would find a way to pay her ransom. It was clear that she had been a lot less worried than we about her safety.

  She told us all of this in a mixture of English, for my benefit, and Portuguese for Maria's. But when her story had finished, and the conversation had broken up into rushed questions and answers, I left them to it. Despite all the time I had spent with them, I wasn't really part of their family. I grabbed a bottle of beer and went out onto the balcony to watch the sunset, glad that Isabel was finally free.

  I felt a hand on my shoulder and looked up.

  "HaUo," said Isabel.

  "Hi."

  She bent down and kissed me, her hair falling on my face. Then she stood up and looked out to sea. ''You

  can't believe what it's like to see the sea again/' she said. "This view. These people." A pause. "You."

  A warm glow of happiness ran through me. It was just what I had hoped to hear. I reached up and pulled her lips down to mine again.

  Eventually she broke away. "What will you do now?" she asked.

  "I don't know. I haven't thought about it." And in truth I hadn't. My plans had gone no further than Isabel's release.

  "Is Papal really going to take over Dekker?" she

  asked.

  "We'll soon find out. The auction is tomorrow afternoon. It's between him and Bloomfield Weiss."

  "So Ricardo has finally lost? I still can't believe he did that to me. Had me kidnapped. I know our relationship was over, but I thought I meant more to him than that."

  "You know what he's Uke," I said. "With the survival of Dekker Ward at stake, he'd do anything. And at least you're still alive."

  Isabel frowned. "I guess you're right."

  It was getting dark quickly. The floodlights were on, picking out the white spume of the waves on the beach. I had stared out at this view often, worrying about Isabel in captivity. And now she was here, next to me.

  My thoughts turned to Luis in London, and the auction tomorrow. I prayed he would be successful. I badly wanted Ricardo to see that he wasn't invincible. That he couldn't mess up so many people's lives, especially mine and Isabel's, and get away with it.

  Isabel was obviously thinking the same thing. "Let's go and help Papal," she said.

  "What do you mean?"

  "Let's go to London. Tonight. To help him with his

  bid tomorrow."

  "It's too late, isn't it? And shouldn't you rest?" "I've been resting for weeks! I want to see my father. This is an important time for him. There's a flight that leaves at about ten o'clock, I think. We've plenty of time." I grinned. "OK. Let's go."

  The plane arrived at Heathrow Airport early the following afternoon, and Luis said he'd meet us. Isabel had bought first-class tickets on the Varig flight, and I hadn't complained. Despite what she'd said about too much rest, she was tired. The excitement of her release had worn her out after her weeks of inactivity. So she slept for the entire flight, while I stayed awake mulling over the last few weeks, and letting my hopes play with the idea of a future with Isabel.

  I spotted him first, his domed head rising above the press of people waiting outside customs at Terminal Three. His face lit up with pleasure when he saw Isabel. She ran to him and they embraced. He stroked her hair, and a tear appeared in his eye. Eventually he broke free and shook my hand. Or pumped it more like. The man I had spent so much time with over the last few weeks, bowed but not broken by the pressure of his daughter's kidnap, was transformed.

  Luis and Isabel talked excitedly in Portuguese as they made their way to his chauffeur-driven car. But as we sped down the M4 into London, Luis switched to English.

  "I've booked you both rooms at the Savoy, where I'm staying. I'll drop you off there, but then I'll have to go into the City to put the final touches on our bid."

  "How's it going?" I asked.

  "Pretty well. We've hired Gumey Kroheim to act for us. Do you know them?"

  They were Jamie's old firm. They were also one of the foremost British merchant banks, who had built a reputation for advising on international takeovers. Not only would they provide good advice, but they should add weight to Banco Horizonte's bid.

  ''They have a good reputation/' I said.

  "They deserve it. And KBN are tied in. We've put together quite a complicated structure with offshore companies and convertible preference shares. It gives KBN economic control of the bond portfolio, without recognizing a loss at Dekker that would wipe out its capital. KBN will end up with twenty percent of Dekker, and we get the remaining eighty. With KBN behind it, the new Dekker should have better credibility with the markets. And also with the SFA and the Bank of England."

  "What do KBN think about Dekker's bond position?"

  "They're enthusiastic, thank God. The market has been strengthening the last few days. It looks like Congress will abandon the Ptnnock bill."

  "That's good news," I said.

  "Good and bad. It's good in that it makes the whole bid less risky. It's bad in that it makes Dekker Ward more expensive. And Bloomfield Weiss can afford to pay more than we can."

  "Oh, I see." Bloomfield Weiss's capital was many times that of Banc
o Horizonte. But Sidney Stahl did not look the kind of man who would overpay for anything. We were still in with a chance. "Have you heard anything from Ricardo?"

  "Nothing. I guess he's just trying to cope with the bond position and hoping that with Isabel's life under threat we would stop the takeover somehow."

  "Except that now Isabel is free. He'll know that by now."

  "Yes/' said Luis thoughtfully. "I expect he will/'

  We were silent for a moment, each one of us thinking what Ricardo would do next. "Did you ask Francisco about him?" Luis inquired eventually.

  "No, I didn't. Francisco was pretty clever, really. He never admitted any involvement with the kidnapping himself, let alone the involvement of anyone else." ' "And you just let him go? "

  "Yes," I said. "I had promised him I would. And besides. Nelson said it would get very messy with the authorities if we tried to get them to prosecute him."

  Luis sighed. "A shame, but I understand. One day I'll make him pay."

  "You'll make Ricardo pay today," I said.

  Luis chuckled. "Ah, yes."

  "Have you decided how much to bid, Papai?" Isabel asked.

  "Not yet," said Luis. "It depends on the strength of the market. We'll decide just before the auction."

  "When'sthat?"

  "Five o'clock. At Dekker Ward's office in the City."

  "Can we come?" Isabel asked. "We'll keep out of the way."

  "Of course," said Luis. "I want you to see this, whether it works or not. Come and meet us at Gurney Kroheim, when you are ready."

  Luis dropped us off at the Savoy. He had booked us into separate rooms, of course.

  "What time shall we meet?" I asked Isabel. "Would you like a rest?"

  Isabel smiled that wicked little smile that made my heart melt. She shook her head. "Say, two minutes?"

  "I'll be there," I said.

  It was an hour and a half before we left the Savoy for the City. We could have stayed there all day, but we didn't want to miss Luis's bid deliberations.

  Gumey Kroheim's offices were a hundred yards away from Dekker Ward's, in the heart of the City. Their meeting room was more like Dekker's than Bloomfield Weiss's. A couple of baronets in top hats watched over the route to the room, but once there, the pictures were Victorian landscapes, originals subtly illuminated. The room gleamed with polished wood. But there was no chance of ever mistaking Gumey Kroheim's offices for a country house. Most of the great and good of British industry had certainly visited here, but to do battle with each other, to eat and be eaten.

  The room was crowded. Luis was sitting next to one of his partners, Sergio Prenzman, who had borne the brunt of the work of putting the bid together while Luis was distracted by Isabel's kidnap. Next to him were two earnest associates who had spent night after night feeding numbers into computers. Also at the table were two Dutch bankers from KBN, a couple of lawyers, and a team of three from Gumey Kroheim, led by a director, Charles Scott-Liddell.

  Luis introduced his daughter with pride, and me with thanks as the man who had secured her release. There were broad smiles all around. As well as working for Luis, it was clear these City professionals liked him.

  "You've arrived at a good time," Luis said. "We're just about to discuss the price."

  We sat at two empty chairs at the other end of the long board table. All eyes were turned to Luis.

  "So, Charles, what have we got?"

  Scott-Liddell, every inch the smooth merchant banker, examined the sheets of figures in front of him.

  "Well, we've plugged today's market prices for the

  356 Michael Ridpath '

  bond portfolio into the model. As we suspected, it !

  makes quite a difference. Using method one we get a ^

  valuation of sixty-three million pounds, and using

  method two"—he paused as he flipped through the pa i pers in front of him—''seventy-two million."

  Things had moved on from the twenty million that ]

  had been talked about the previous week. The market ]

  must have improved, I thought. i

  Sergio butted in. 'Tm much happier with method one than method two. I don't trust these discounted cash-flow valuations for a stockbroker. They make no

  sense to me." ^

  Luis smiled. "I know, Sergio. But an opportunity like ;

  this will only come once. If we can get Dekker Ward, i

  Banco Horizonte will become the first truly interna ':

  tional investment bank in Latin America. That has to be

  I

  worth something. What did we say was the maximum j

  we could afford?" {

  "Seventy-five would be the limit," said Sergio. "Be

  yond that our capital ratios would be stretched. You >

  know how we've always kept a conservative balance i

  sheet. But seventy-five million would be too much to j

  pay for Dekker anyway." |

  Luis stared at the numbers. Then he stood up and ^

  walked over to the window, looking down on the Lon 1

  don traffic. '

  With his back to the room he said, "We'll bid eighty ; million pounds."

  t

  30

  The first person I saw as I followed Luis into the Dekker Ward boardroom was Sidney Stahl, perched on a chair, a cigar in his mouth. ''Hi, guys!" he croaked with a grin. A gloating grin. He thinks he'll beat us, I thought instantly. Behind him was EHvight Godfrey, who avoided my eyes.

  We walked farther into the room. Kerton rose from behind the table to greet us, some envelopes in front of him. I ignored him. My attention was grabbed by the man sitting next to him, legs crossed, calmly smoking a cigarette.

  Ricardo!

  Kerton was making introductions and fussing over Isabel, but I wasn't listening. What the hell was Ricardo doing here? Then I glanced quickly at the envelopes in front of Lord Kerton. There were three!

  Ricardo addressed me. "Good afternoon, Nick, Luis," he said. And then when he saw Isabel, "I'm so pleased to see you! I didn't know you'd been released!"

  I didn't say anything. I just collapsed into a seat next to Luis.

  There were a number of other people there: lawyers, advisers, that sort of thing. We'd brought a lot of them

  with us. But I didn't really take them in. The only person in the room for me was Ricardo. Even though he was an interloper, he had the air of someone in complete control, not just of himself but of all of us in the room.

  ''Thank you for coming in person," Lord Kerton said. "It seemed the best way to do this. Then you would at least know that you were both being treated fairly," he addressed this to Stahl and Luis. "This morning I received a call from Ricardo asking if he could put a bid in for the firm. I couldn't really refuse, so I invited him along."

  I wasn't surprised that Ricardo had found out about the auction. And it was just like him to take the initiative, and not sit idly by while his firm was sold underneath him. But it was still a shock to see him there, competing with us for Dekker.

  "I object!" said Stahl. "I admit I was kinda surprised to see Ricardo here. But I thought he was just here to watch, not to bid."

  "Well, Sid, he's put together a bid of his own," Kerton said. "A sort of management buyout, you could call it. Or I think you would term it a leveraged buyout."

  Kerton pronounced leveraged the British way, lee-vraged, to irritate Stahl. He succeeded.

  "Well, I don't like it. You change the ground rules on me, and I'm outta here!"

  "I don't think I mentioned how many participants there would be when I invited you to bid. You just assumed that there would be two. Well, there are three. If you wish to withdraw your bid or change it, you are free to do so."

  Damn! If Stahl changed his bid because he knew Ricardo was there, then it would only be upward, and

  leave us with even less chance of a victory. Lord Kerton was being quite canny.

  Stahl thought for a moment. He pull
ed on his cigar.

  "No/' he said. "Our bid stays as it is right there in that envelope. Fm not gonna let you ambush me into paying you more than I have to for this shit heap."

  Kerton smiled politely. He turned to Luis. "It's only fair to make you the same offer. Would you like to change your bid?"

  Luis shook his head. He was paying as much as he could afford anyway. More.

  "OK. Well, without further ado, I shall open the bids."

  He picked up an envelope. I recognized the Banco Horizonte logo. "Taking them at random," he said, slitting it with an elegant brass paper knife. "I have the bid here from Banco Horizonte... Eighty million pounds." He spoke quietly and calmly, and handed it to the lawyer next to him to verify.

  Ricardo took a drag of his cigarette. Stahl puffed his cigar. I chewed a pencil.

  The next envelope was Bloomfield Weiss's. I couldn't read the words printed on it, but I recognized the distinctive typeface. Kerton attacked it with his fancy paper knife.

  "Bloomfield Weiss's bid is ..." He scanned the letter quickly. "Seventy-six million pounds."

  Yes! Stahl had cut it too fine. He had done the same calculations as Scott-Liddell, come up with the same numbers, and added a bit. Well, Luis had added a bit more.

  I glanced across at Stahl. He was still chewing his cigar, not looking at anyone in particular. He was trying to put on a brave face, to let us know he'd get over it. But his face was reddening, and his jaws were clenched

  so tight on the cigar that I was surprised he hadn't snapped the end off. Sidney Stahl was not happy.

  But all eyes were now on the third envelope. As Ker-ton picked it up, I glanced at Ricardo. He was sitting in exactly the same posture of studied relaxation. His wedding ring was gliding gently over his fingers. The announcement of the two bids hadn't prompted the slightest reaction. But just then I knew he'd won. In a sealed bid auction involving Ricardo, there could only ever be one winner. I suddenly knew why we hadn't heard from him during this whole process. It was so that he could time his entrance into the struggle perfectly, so that he could snatch Dekker for himself before we or Bloomfield Weiss had time to respond to the threat.