The Money Makers

by Harry Bingham

‘I don’t know,’ said Earle. ‘I really hadn’t expected ... I’ll look at this carefully, of course. But I’m afraid I can’t promise ...’ He trailed off.

  He couldn’t find the mistake in what Josephine was saying, and Earle knew full well that the legal expertise of the barrister she’d consulted was much greater than his own. It really seemed as though Josephine might be right.

  Josephine saw his hesitation and decided to help him along.

  ‘Let me be quite clear,’ she said. ‘I believe in my case and my lawyers believe in it too. If you try to obstruct me, I shall be forced to go to court, where I am confident of success. That would be a difficult, painful and costly way of doing things, but I’m quite prepared to do it if need be.’ Her tone was hard, but then she mellowed and floated a warm smile across the room to the elderly solicitor. ‘And besides, I don’t see why you should wish to get in my way. I know that the way my father drew up his will was very painful to you. If you do need to use your discretion, I’m sure you’ll use it to benefit the family that you’ve served so well and for so long.’

  Augustus Earle was charmed. He mumbled something. Something to do with due consideration, consultation with his fellow executors, needing to come to a sensible agreement - but everyone knew what he meant. Josephine had won. Gradley’s millions were landing up in the one place that no one had predicted.

  ‘You won’t get away with this,’ hissed Zack. ‘That’s not your money and you know it.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ said Earle. ‘What are you alleging? Are you saying -’

  ‘I’m saying that Josephine stole the money from my account and Matthew’s. She’s a bank clerk isn’t she? She knows all about these money transfers. She knows the ropes. That’s what’s so bloody great about being a bloody settlements clerk.’ Zack was spitting his words now. ‘But it won’t wash, Josie. It’s not your money. And I - I mean we, me and Matthew - will sue you for our money. And I’ll sue you for Dad’s estate as well. You stole my money and you’re not entitled to the estate.’

  ‘Josephine! Is this true?’

  ‘It’s perfectly true. I stole the money. It wasn’t quite as simple as he makes out, though. It was a lot of hard work hacking into the bank systems and authorising the transfers. It’s a good job I’ve spent the last year and a half practising.’

  Earle was dumbfounded once again.

  ‘But, Josephine, you can’t just steal money. Zack’s perfectly right, you know. He and Matthew can just recover the money and the estate too.’

  ‘I understand that. But I don’t think that Matthew or Zack will wish to sue. In fact, I rather think they’ll wish to let me keep the money.’

  She looked squarely around the room, inviting challenges. George and Val sat there, like two plump Yorkshire chickens, impassive. As Earle looked at them, he suddenly wondered if they’d known all this in advance. Was that why there had been nothing in George’s account? Forewarned and forearmed?

  George’s calmness couldn’t have been more of a contrast with his two brothers. Zack was standing up, quivering with fury, anger concentrated in his dark eyes and outraged mouth. Matthew was white, standing behind his brother. He wasn’t sure whether to be angry or not, but his mouth was screwed into a petulant sulk. Josephine looked at Matthew first.

  ‘Well, Matthew. Are you going to sue?’

  Matthew licked his lips. He couldn’t sue anyone or anything. He couldn’t sue Belial. He couldn’t sue Josephine. He could no more withstand scrutiny of his financial affairs than a vampire could garlic. He shook his head.

  ‘I’m not suing, Josie.’

  She smiled at him. ‘No, of course, not. How about you, Zack. Are you suing?’

  ‘Of course I’m suing, you fool. How on earth did you think you could get away with a stupid schoolgirl game like this? I’ll sue you for every penny.’ Zack was incandescent with anger. He shook his finger at her, furiously adding, ‘I swear to you, Josie, after I’ve got my money back and Dad’s too, you’ll have to crawl on your belly from here to London before you so much as smell a penny of it.’

  ‘You’re so kind,’ said Josephine. ‘It’s always nice to know where one stands.’

  ‘It’s mine, Josie. It’s all mine.’

  ‘Of course,’ added Josephine, musing, ‘if you did sue me, certain facts might get revealed.’

  ‘What facts are those?’ Zack snorted. He didn’t know why Matthew had backed down, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to.

  ‘Well, at your wedding, I had a most interesting chat with your friend Arabella Queensferry. She was telling me all about a certain ball a couple of years back. You remember the occasion, I’m sure. You knocked out Sarah’s fiancée and had Arabella set him up. Arabella didn’t know what she was doing and spoke to me because she was concerned about it. I told her not to worry, but Sarah might feel differently. You never can tell how people react to these things.’

  Zack hesitated, but he was so incensed at Josephine that any hope of balanced judgement was gone. Sarah, for the time being, was nothing to him, nothing except another stepping stone on the road to his fortune. Zack hesitated, but not for long.

  ‘I’ll kill you if you tell her anything, but you’re not going to stop me getting my money.’

  ‘Really? And what about poor old Hal Gillingham? What a coincidence that he should find himself an alcoholic again, when he never even remembered touching a drink.’

  ‘What the hell do you know about that?’

  ‘Well, you told me about your promotion and the reason for it. I felt Hal was probably short of visitors so I decided to track him down. I rang round the most exclusive clinics in Britain and, lo and behold, there he was, being looked after for a few hundred quid a day at a posh clinic in Kent. I went to visit him. We became friends - he’s quite a nice man, actually - and he told me his life story. The bit involving you had a terribly familiar ring to it. I didn’t tell him anything about you, but I could. He’s getting married, by the way. Fell in love with a pretty nurse and seems happy as a songbird.’

  ‘I don’t care what he knows,’ rasped Zack, but his voice was unconvincing even to himself.

  ‘No, I bet you don’t. But your employers? Oh, I know I can’t prove anything, but things don’t work on proof in your world, do they? You have to be whiter than white or they’ll drop you quicker than hot coal. Conning your wife into marrying you, nudging your boss into alcoholism - well, they’d be nuts to let you continue, wouldn’t they?’

  ‘Why would I care about them? I’ll have the money, won’t I?’

  ‘Really? You won’t mind losing wife and job and reputation just for the sake of Dad’s fortune? Are you sure?’

  Zack wasn’t sure. Everyone in the room could see he wasn’t sure. But he hated losing, and losing publicly he detested.

  ‘Damn right I’m sure. It’s not your money, Josie. It’s mine.’

  ‘Well, maybe you’re right. Maybe you really won’t mind hugging your fortune to yourself and ignoring the whispers which say, “There goes Zack Gradley, the man who swindled his way to a fortune”.’

  ‘Don’t push it.’

  ‘On the other hand, maybe you wouldn’t even get the money, after all.’

  ‘What the hell do you mean?’

  ‘Well, Dad’s will is pretty clear on this point, Zack. You have to have made the million pounds outright. You can’t owe any of it to anyone.’

  ‘It is mine, you idiot. The million pounds is mine. I made it. It’s mine.’

  ‘Really? Well, do you know what, as I was hacking my way through the bank’s computer systems last night, I got curious. I decided to have a look at the recent transactions on your account. That’s the beauty of hacking, Zack. You can see whatever you want. I must show you some time. I think you’d enjoy it.’

  ‘What about my account?’

  ‘Oh yes, sorry. Well, I noticed something rather peculiar. I noticed that until the day before yesterday you only had seven hundred and seventy-six thousand pounds in your ac
count. That’s well short of a million.’

  ‘So what? That was the day before yesterday.’

  ‘Well, the interesting thing to me was where the missing two hundred and thirty-four thousand pounds came from. It was a direct transfer from an account at another London bank. I guessed that would be Sarah’s account, in which case there wouldn’t be a problem. After all, there wouldn’t be anything peculiar about a wife giving her husband money. Now, it was naughty of me, I know, but I just thought I would take a look at that other account. And what do you think I saw? It wasn’t Sarah’s account at all. I’m sure she’d have given you the money if you’d asked for it, but then I remembered that you’d all but bankrupted her and her family. Maybe she had a hard time scraping together that kind of money. Or maybe she was feeling peeved with you. I don’t know, but anyway, that’s not the point. No, the interesting thing was that the missing money came from a chap called Dixon Banderman, who seems to be a Weinstein Lukes employee, judging by the monthly salary payments into his account. I think I remember you mentioning that he’s your boss.’

  ‘So what?’ said Zack, sneering. ‘Dixon gave me the money, because Sarah was hard-pressed to find it at short notice. Who cares who gave it to me?’

  ‘Gave it, Zack? Gave it? Are you sure he gave it? I can understand your wife giving you money. That’s the sort of thing that wives do. I could even understand it if your father-in-law, Lord Hatherleigh, gave you the money. God knows why he should after what you’ve done to him, but he seems like a nice chap. But Dixon Banderman? Your boss? Why on earth would he give you nearly quarter of a million pounds?’ The room was silent, waiting for her conclusion. She let the words tiptoe out into the deafening quiet. Are you sure it wasn’t a loan?’

  ‘It was a gift.’

  Everyone knew what they were talking about. The will was absolutely clear. The million pounds had to be made without borrowing. If even a penny of the million pounds was borrowed, then none of it was allowed to count. Josephine continued.

  ‘It was a gift, I understand that. Your boss just decided to say, “Hell, I love this chap Gradley so much I’m going to give him quarter of a million without expecting a penny of it back”. I believe you. After all, you’re my brother. But what do you think they’ll make of that in a court of law?’

  ‘There’s nothing written. You can’t prove anything.’ That was true. Zack had told Banderman enough of the story to persuade him to come up with the cash.

  Zack had said that there had to be nothing in writing, nothing at all to document the fact that the money was a loan not a gift. Banderman had agreed. But even as he picked up the phone to authorise the transfer, he said, ‘We won’t put this into writing, but you and I both understand that this is a loan. If you don’t pay it back, then I will personally come and murder you. Got that, scum-face?’ Zack had agreed, of course. He hadn’t imagined any possible comeback. But what if Banderman were dragged on to the witness stand? What would he say? Weinstein Lukes prided itself on the integrity of its employees, and Banderman would no more lie under oath than he would commit burglary. Josephine resumed, dreamily.

  ‘No. I doubt if I’ll be able to prove anything. Perhaps I can. Perhaps Dixon Banderman will tell the full story. But to get the money, you would have to demonstrate to the satisfaction of the court that the money was not borrowed. And that would be pretty tough, wouldn’t it? Be pretty tough to get a jury to swallow that one.’

  She trailed off. Zack’s face was white and his lips moved in silence. She was right. Even if Dixon were to pretend the money was a gift, who on earth would believe him? Banderman was a wealthy man, but no man, no matter how wealthy, just gives away quarter of a million pounds to an all-but-new employee. One inch - no more - separated Zack from his father’s fortune, but try as he might, he couldn’t find a way to cross that last tiny distance. His lips worked in silence. He was beaten. The inch was wide as the Pacific, high as the Himalayas.

  ‘I can still make you give back my million even if I don’t try to claim the estate.’ Even in defeat, Zack couldn’t concede. His voice was petulant now, spiteful and bitter.

  Josephine watched him for a moment impassively, then answered him.

  ‘Of course, you could make me give your million back. After all, you’ll need to find at least two hundred and fifty grand with which to pay back Banderman. But before you try, just consider this. If you sue me, then I swear that you will never see a penny of Dad’s money. If you don’t sue, if you leave me with the million I stole from you, then I might decide to give you some of it. I’m not saying I will. I’m just saying you have a chance, depending on how I feel. It’s up to you.’

  Zack was unable to speak, and Matthew spoke the question uppermost in his mind.

  ‘What are you going to do with the estate, Josie?’

  She looked at him sharply. She was in complete control of the room now, all the cards in her hand.

  ‘Well, I haven’t quite decided on everything,’ she said. ‘But whatever happens, I’m not going to sell Gradley Plant Hire. I’m going to run that as a business and I have every expectation of doing extremely well with it. I’ve already found myself an excellent managing director.’

  ‘Eh? Who?’

  Josephine indicated George with a tiny wave of her hand. George received Matthew’s glance and nodded in confirmation.

  ‘You? What’s going to happen to Gissings, then?’

  ‘Oh, I shan’t sell Gissings. I’ll just ask somebody else to run it, and as a matter of fact I’ve already found myself an excellent managing director too.’

  George indicated Val with a tiny wave of his hand, and Val smiled at Matthew in embarrassed acknowledgement. Matthew stared at Josephine, George and Val. So they’d all been in on this, had they? George got to keep his precious little factory, while simultaneously stepping up to the big time with Dad’s old company.

  ‘Congratulations,’ he said. ‘I’m sure you’ll do a good job - both do a good job, I mean,’ nodding to include Val. ‘And what about - I mean, Josie ... are you going to keep all the shares to yourself or will you share them out?’

  Josie shrugged. ‘Oh, no. I shan’t keep them all. George will get a quarter. After all, I want my managing director to have some incentives.’

  ‘And us, Josie, what about us?’

  Matthew indicated himself and Zack. Josie stared at them like they were zoo animals. She shrugged.

  ‘I don’t know, Matthew.’ For the first time, a tremble entered her voice and the dazzle of sunlight on her face told of emotion in her eyes. ‘What I do know is that while I struggled for three years to look after Mum, George was the only one of you who did right by her. When I was really struggling, he emptied out his wallet to give me literally his last money in the world, even though he’d been living in a van, and even though he hadn’t drawn so much as one penny in salary. I know that he visited when he could, that he phoned every week at least, that he sent cards and presents and money, that he and Val treated me and Mum as welcome guests not as embarrassing intruders. I know that he deserves every bit of good fortune now. And as for you two, I honestly don’t know. You, Matthew, tried to be nice, but in the end the thought that Zack might beat you to the million stopped you every time. And as for you, Zack, your performance just now shows where your heart really lies. Right now, I haven’t made any decisions. I’m off on holiday. With Mum, to the Caribbean. George and Val are coming too. We’ll be there for two weeks. Maybe when I come back, I’ll have simmered down a bit, but then again, maybe I won’t. You’ll just have to wait and see.’

  Nobody answered her. There was nothing much to say. Augustus Earle, who had vanished off into a world of his own amongst the papers on his desk, suddenly sprang back to life.

  ‘Zack, Matthew. I have a question to ask each of you. Do either of you dispute Josephine’s right to the money she - er - transferred from your accounts last night?’

  ‘She hadn’t any right,’ muttered Zack.

  ‘That’s
not what I mean. I mean do either of you now contest that the money is hers? Will you seek to reclaim it?’

  The two brothers shook their heads.

  ‘Good. Now, Josephine, I’ve been rereading the will, and this legal opinion you’ve given me. I believe you’re right. I believe we can justify an interpretation along the lines you’ve talked about. Frankly, it’s a stretch. It’s not what Bernard intended and you know that as well as I do. But I don’t want to stand in the way of justice, and I’m sure my fellow executors won’t want to either. So far as I can see, the only major stumbling block would be if any of your brothers chose to contest your entitlement in court. But I take it that none of them will do that. Am I right?’

  The two brothers nodded in silence. George sat motionless. His opinion was already fairly clear.

  ‘Excellent. And you will be willing to confirm all this in writing?’

  They nodded again. Earle noticed that at some point, he hadn’t noticed when, the old grandfather clock had found new life in its springs and was beating out time across the carpet as before.

  ‘Then, Josephine, I shall call a meeting of my fellow executors immediately. I am confident that we shall be able to release the estate into your hands within a matter of days. May I be the first to wish you my heartiest congratulations and to wish you an extremely pleasant holiday.’

  ‘Thank you,’ said Josephine, making ready to leave.

  And as she did so, the old clock paused for breath, began to whirr, then rang out the noonday chimes, an hour or so late, but sweet and clear as ever.

  Epilogue

  1

  And so it was. Bernard Gradley’s estate passed in its entirety to his only daughter. Her first act on taking possession of the company was to call a meeting of the board, at which she installed herself as chairwoman and her brother George as managing director. George was to receive a salary of eighty thousand pounds, modest by the standards of a large company, and he was entitled to no bonus, no share options, nor any other perks. But Josephine also transferred into his name a parcel of shares which, as promised, gave him one quarter of the whole company. That was incentive enough.