I shook my head, bemused by the whole thing. Harry freshened my drink and took the chair next to me. 'Poseidon, Mike,' he said, bright-eyed with excitement. 'There's been nothing to touch it in my life-time, let alone yours. Remember their shares on the London Stock Exchange? Opening at 7s 6d old money - and four months later you couldn't buy them for a hundred pounds each.'
I nodded absently, my mind still full of the island. 'But don't you have to drill or something?' I asked McNeil. 'For confirmation.'
He shook his head. 'Those caves did most of our drilling for us. How far down do you reckon we went? Seven hundred - eight hundred feet? My guess is a good eight fifty on the first site, and maybe a thousand on the second. And I sampled at both points. And other places, as far as four or five miles apart. There's a lot of other stuff there of course, not usually associated with nickel. Conglomerates, basalt and stuff. Threw me at first, I don't mind admitting. But I know this Mike, that place is Aladdin's cave it's so rich.'
'So we found a fortune after all?' I said, trying to take it all in.'By accident.'
'Happens all the time,' said McNeil happily. 'They nearly missed it in Aussie I can tell you. Hitting nickel at Kambalda was a pure bloody fluke. Everyone was uranium crazy then. That's all they wanted to know about. Then this bloke Cowgill finds nickel in his garage and they all get excited about nickel instead.'
'But the island's under water for two months of the year,' I remembered. 'What good's a mine that floods regularly?'
McNeil shook his head. 'Don't worry. My guess is that the surface only gets swamped to a couple or feet or so. We could build sea fences against that. Even if we can't - and I think we can - the Canadians are mining nickel and copper in ocean three miles deep.'
I think I sat shaking my head through most of this - the world of mining seemed utterly unpredictable to me. 'So what happens now? I asked. 'Presumably you want to go back for a second look?'
'Would Pepalasis buy that?' Harry sounded doubtful. 'After all he's entitled to wave the contract at us - say it's time we put up or shut up.'
'Well hardly - after all, he short delivered at his end didn't he?'
'The point is,' Harry said, 'Kirk's already convinced even without another look. The size of the find is enormous.'
'Probably enormous,' McNeil qualified. 'Big certainly. Probably very, very big.'
'Pepalasis will be over the moon.' I remembered his face when I'd left him at Heathrow.
'Ah?' Emanuel cleared his throat and spoke for the first time. 'We were coming to that. You see he's got no idea of what's there, has he? And from what Kirk says he's a bitterly disappointed man at the moment. Fed up with the whole thing, eh?'
I had wondered why Emanuel was in on the meeting. Now he was going to tell me.
'Seems to me,' he said slowly, as if trying out a new thought, 'A man in that frame of mind might be persuaded to sell pretty low. Know what I mean? Sort of peanuts.'
I was prevented from answering by the arrival of Harry's secretary with a tray of sandwiches and coffee. We nursed our drinks in silence until she left.
Harry resumed immediately. 'You see Mike, contractually we're under no obligation to tell Pepalasis what we know, and subject to what he found to be prepared to invest short term finance.'
'And if we do tell him,' Emanuel joined in, 'he's under no obligation to work with us. Not in developing a nickel mine anyway. That's the problem.'
'He'll still need cash,' I pointed out.
'Huh, that won't be difficult,' Emanuel said positively. 'Not if Kirk's findings become general knowledge. Your Greek could go and find himself a whole new ball game. Without us. We'd have helped pinpoint a fortune for someone else.'
'So what do you suggest?'
'That we buy him out and control it ourselves.' Emanuel delivered his conclusion like an ultimatum.
'But why? Why not work with him?'
'We daren't risk telling him, that's why!' he snapped back, as if I was being particularly stupid. 'Tell him what's there and he might choose not to work with us.'
Harry shook his head in agreement. 'You said yourself he can be a difficult man, Mike. Look at all the problems we had coming to an agreement in the first place.'
I nodded, remembering, but also remembering how fair the Greek had been about the fifty thousand.
'What do you think, Mike?' Harry sounded anxious.
'Are you asking me to find out?' I reached for a sandwich.
'What's his mood like at the moment?' Harry countered.
'Depressed as hell last time I saw him. But he's the resilient type. I bet he's bounced on his arse before and come back.' I had another thought.
'Anyway any offer now would convince him that McNeil found diamonds and held out on him.'
Harry thought about that and then said, 'It's not that we want to cheat him of course.' He sounded like an extortionist apologising for his high prices. 'But I really don't see that we can play it any other way. And what the eye doesn't see the heart doesn't grieve over.'
'My point exactly,' Emanuel nodded enthusiastically. 'Right now I bet he'll be only too pleased to wash his hands of the whole project.'
'Yeah, I know,' I said. 'We'll be doing him a favour.'
'Look Mike, this is going to be big. Really big,' Emanuel bubbled. 'But we've got to do it our way. The Greek would just complicate it. Let's pay him a profit and get him out.'
'And then?'
'Then the big sell. Profit projections. The Poseidon experience. Forecast recovery of the world commodity prices. The whole bit. I can tell you the City's ready for another Poseidon. Hell, maybe the whole world's ready. We launch as a public company from go. Simultaneous placements in London, New York and Tokyo. Can you imagine? Whatever the offer price of the shares we'll be over subscribed a hundred times. Follow me?'
'It's not difficult.'
'Sure it's not. But you're the key, Mike. You're the promoter. You're going to have to negotiate with Pepalasis. For which you'll want a fee. And we convert the fee into shares. How's that sound?'
'Fine. If Pepalasis sells.'
'It won't be easy. We know that. That's why the fee's substantial.' He looked pleased enough for both of us. 'We thought five hundred thousand shares, Mike.'
'One pound shares?'
'Sure one pound shares. One pound at placement. After that, who knows what they'll fetch? Three pounds. Five pounds. A hundred pounds.'
'It's that big?'
'Bad word,' he shook his head. 'Try enormous. Take the tax angle alone. Any mining group - anywhere - Australia, Canada, anywhere - pays a lease to the host government for all ore extracted. Then local taxes on top. Company tax on top of that. One way or another a host, government snatches better than seventy per cent of the mining company's true take. Whereas this island - ' He shrugged and let the sentence hang in the air.
I remembered Pepalasis the first time we'd met, equally excited about his tax haven.
'How much do you reckon to pay for the island?' I asked,' he'll sell.'
'That's for you to negotiate, Mike,' Harry raised an eyebrow. 'What's two hundred square miles of derelict land worth in that part of the world?'
'Especially when it floods two months of the year,' McNeil added.
We talked about it some more before I took my leave of them and journeyed back to Hill Street. However hard I tried, it was impossible not to get excited. This Pepalasis project! There was something about it which just wouldn't lie down. Another chance to earn a fortune. If Pepalasis would agree to sell.
Six
It was past six when I got back to Hill Street. Hallsworth was slumped on my chesterfield with Jean perched on the arm of the chair opposite. They both nursed drinks and were so deep in conversation that I startled them when I opened the door. There was something about the scene, both of them so obviously relaxed in each other's company, which made me feel like an intruder in my own office. And possessively jealous about Jean. Of course, it was damn silly. The feeling came and
went in a split second. But I felt it all the same.
We said our 'hello's', Jean fixed me a drink before. returning to her own room, and Hallsworth and I got down to business.
'Which first?' I asked. 'Good news or bad news?'
He groaned. 'The day I've had and you've got more bad news?'
I wondered which of his interests was causing the problem but didn't dwell on it. 'No diamonds,' I said brutally. 'At least nothing worth mining.'
He was even more shocked than I had expected. So I gave him the good news and sat in pleased silence whilst he digested it. Then he was positively delirious with his recollections of Poseidon and had me almost laughing with excitement.
'But I still can't believe it.' He shook his head. 'I mean, Pepalasis was so damn certain about diamonds. And now nickel? Nickel of all things. It's amazing - I bet Ari can't believe his luck!'
'He doesn't know,' I said and finished the story. He listened as carefully as always, asking the occasional question until he was satisfied that he'd learned all there was to know. And then began to laugh.
'What's funny?'
'My bad news.' He was still laughing. 'My bad news - is - is suddenly very funny.'
I sipped my drink and waited.
'The big deal I've been working on,' he explained eventually. 'The one in the States. It as good as fell apart this week - today as a matter of fact.'
'That's funny?'
'Hysterical. When you know about it.' He was still grinning hugely; 'Our end was to supply plant for a new mill for U.S. steel. A lot of plant - worth twenty-eight million dollars. Tenders accepted months ago, all set as far as we were concerned. Then U.S Steel started wetting themselves about the future stability of the world nickel market. Two things worry them - supply and price. If the world economy revives in the mid-eighties they predict demand for nickel could outstrip supply. So they've been trying to buy forward. Problem is the producers pool output and market collectively, and the marketing boys, both here and in the States, won't guarantee price or volume more than a year ahead. A lot of crap about their responsibility to the mining houses to maintain a stable market - in reality a price ring. Now, my problem. U.S Steel want guaranteed price and volume for the next five years to calculate the return on their investment. Given that they go ahead - and I get my contract. Without it? Well, they've been pussyfooting around for months now with my order getting colder every day. And today they more or less buried it.'
I whistled aloud and then got ahead of him. 'So we put the two together!'
'Do you think we could?'
'If Harry's consortium buy the island?' I asked. 'Will U.S. Steel sign a five year contract?'
'They'll sign terms with the devil to get that nickel.'
'Guaranteed prices? Large quantities?'
'Gilt-edged on vast amounts!' He nodded.
'So.if we get the right price they'll as good as finance the whole operation.' I whistled again. 'The consortium would be onto a fortune. Without risking a penny!' 'And I get my order for plant at the same time.' It would be hard to say who was the more excited. We poured fresh drinks, calmed down as much as possible, and started looking for snags. Pepalasis was certainly one but timing was another. 'That could be the killer,' Hallsworth said. 'Vince Pickard - he's the V.P. in charge of the project - is in London now and this morning he was worried sick that his Board will shelve the project. You know what that means - mutually exclusive investments - tying cash up elsewhere - it could be five years before Vince gets it back on the table.' That would be a blow. 'How long's he here for?' 'Vince? Never sits still long. Maybe a week. I can find out,
I'm meeting him for dinner. Want to come?'
I decided against it. A meeting now would be premature. But another chat with Harry Smithers seemed a good idea. So I phoned to suggest he and McNeil join Jean and me for dinner, and Hallsworth left to hold U.S. Steel's hand for the evening. And I was just pouring myself a fresh drink when Jean came in: 'Weren't you ever told it's bad for you to drink alone?'
I took the hint and poured one for her while telling her about our dinner date. She seemed pleased. It was a new role, social contact with business associates. She fooled about for a few minutes, fluttering eyelashes and asking what special duties would I like her to perform now that she was a 'hostess'? Then when I told her that Harry and McNeil would be arriving within half an hour she fled to Fulham to change.
I went upstairs to the flat to wash and had just got into a clean shirt when the phone rang.
'Hullo, you're back then!' Sue said. 'How marvellous. I'm dying to hear how it all went. Give me the outline now but save the juicy bits for Friday.' 'Friday?'
'Umm, I thought I'd come up for the weekend.'
I struggled for the right words, not really wanting to see her but feeling I owed her that much. After all I had enjoyed her company and her body for more than two years in a relationship which had been part friendship and part affair. Now it was over. Except she didn't know that.
'Hallsworth's around a lot at the moment,' I said lamely. 'He might be around on Friday evening.' 'Oh.'
I felt disappointment come down the telephone and cringed with embarrassment.
'Mike? You're still there?'
My finger nails dug hard into the palm of my left hand and I was clammy all over despite the fresh shirt, but yes, I was still there. 'I was thinking - perhaps we could meet somewhere else? Have dinner?'
'Only dinner? Darling it's been weeks'
'Sue, there's something I've got to tell you. It's -'
'Oh, don't spoil it. I want to hear all about it, properly, when we meet. Dinner on Friday then?'
'Friday? No - it's difficult - we've got this big deal on, well possibly we've got this big deal on. Conceivably we'll be working all weekend and -'
'Oh, you and work! Don't you ever stop? Well Monday then - you've got to take a break sometime. Okay?'
'Yes, okay, but-'
'Fine. But where, I mean if Hill Street's still difficult?'
God, I was making a mess of it! Other men seemed to cope with this sort of thing without much trouble. Off with the old and on with the new. Why not just come out with it? Tell her it's all finished.
'I know just the place,' she was saying when I tuned back in. 'Remember that hotel at Windsor? We had lunch there once. Overlooking the river. Why not meet there? It's perfect.' Suddenly she was giggling, that throaty chuckle which was so much a part of her. 'And bring an overnight case, I'm counting on more than dinner.'
'Windsor?' I was still trying to find the right words. 'Oh yes, I know where you —' 'Right. Eight on Monday then. Take care, darling - 'Bye.' And I was still opening my mouth to protest when she hung up.
Seven
'So you're the young man with the mining deal?' Vince Pickard pumped my arm. 'Say, am I glad to meet you.'
'Mike's not in commodities, Vince,' Hallsworth corrected, anxious to protect me from technical questions. 'He's a money man.'
'Shit, when wasn't money a commodity? Get me a bundle at a discount will you, Mike?'
Pickard's office two days later. Except office is misleading. But then everything about Marlborough House was misleading - including its name. A pile of Victorian red brick standing in fifty acres of Hertfordshire, just north of St Albans. From the outside, a well preserved country house set amidst manicured lawns and rhododendrons, protected from public gaze by twelve foot walls, wrought iron gates and security guards. And from the inside the most impressive display of corporate muscle I've ever seen.
The first hint of it being a meeting out of the ordinary came when Hallsworth announced us at the gate-keeper's lodge and Pickard's security men took the car apart with stares like lasers.
'I'll vouch for him,' Hallsworth grinned at one of the men and nodded at me before explaining: 'Normally you're asked for identification - and even the most respectable submit to having their briefcases searched.'
I passed mine out of the car door for inspection but the man shook his he
ad: 'Pardon me but that won't be necessary, Mr Townsend.' To which I said 'thank you,' and he; answered 'you're welcome,' in that unexpectedly gracious manner Americans have. After which we crunched the car wheels over the hundred yards of gravel drive to the front door.
The oak panelled reception hall was bigger than centre court Wimbledon and smothered with the trappings of the British aristocracy. But the rooms behind were a revelation, stuffed with Cape Canaveral electronics and operated by men talking fluent Harvard Business to girls listening with the fluid poise of MGM. The entire staff of fifteen were American and the offices buzzed with the business of U.S. Steel. Yet no one would have known, from the outside.
I asked Pickard why the secrecy.
'Politics,' he said. 'With you Brits its always politics.'
He answered my puzzled look with a pitying one of his own: 'We have to keep a low profile. If your unions even suspected we were here you'd have a General Strike on your hands. And why, for Chrissakes? To protect British Steel.' He shook his head as if the puzzle baffled him. 'We could supply this country with all the steel you need and then some. But no - your politicians have to be in the steel business. Not for money - hell no - but for what they call the national interest. But can you tell me what kind of interest allows. British Steel to piss away two million bucks a day?'
The hired help might be Ivy League but Pickard himself was plain, old-fashioned American business. He was also just about the fastest thing I've ever seen outside a race track. Rapid fire speech, a jerky laugh and quick darting eyes. I ducked the political debate in favour of a feigned interest in the electronics.
'Everything works overtime, Mike. Gives us the big picture. Globally. Right round the clock. Howie!' He summoned an assistant. 'Show Mike the main communications set up, will you. He'll be real pleased to see it whilst he's here.'
Pleased or not I saw it. And listened to a highly technical explanation from a whizz kid ten years my junior while Pickard and Hallsworth moved off to say their goodbyes. Hallsworth was bowing out after the introductions fearing a conflict of interest if he participated more fully. Of course I had agreed, despite a hunch that I'd miss his skill as a negotiator before the day was over.
The Money Stones Page 14