This Was a Man

by Jeffrey Archer

  This time only one director wasn’t smiling.

  “Let’s work together and quickly rebuild this company to where it used to be, and then look forward to expanding, so that Mellor International will be the envy of the travel business throughout the world. Let me finish by saying I hope you will consider me the right person to take the company into the next century.”

  Sorkin sat down to cries of “Hear, hear!” and one director even patted him on the back.

  “Gentlemen,” said Knowles, “as the chairman of Thomas Cook has failed to make an appearance, perhaps we should move on and decide which company should take over Mellor Travel, Sorkin International or Thomas Cook? I will now ask the company secretary to conduct the vote.”

  Mr. Arkwright rose slowly from his place and said, “Would those members of the board who wish to cast their vote in favor of Sorkin International raise their—”

  The boardroom door burst open, and three men and a woman entered the room.

  “What is the meaning of this intrusion?” demanded Knowles, leaping to his feet. “This is a private board meeting and you have no right to be here.”

  “I think you’ll find we do,” said Arnold Hardcastle, speaking first. “As you know, Mr. Knowles, I am the legal representative of Farthings Kaufman, and I am accompanied today by Mr. Sebastian Clifton, the bank’s managing director, and Mr. Ray Brook, the chairman of Thomas Cook, who only received an invitation to attend this meeting earlier this morning.”

  “And the young lady?” said Knowles, not attempting to hide his sarcasm. “Who invited her?”

  “She didn’t receive an invitation,” said Hardcastle. “But I will leave it to Miss Mellor to explain to the board why she is here.”

  Knowles collapsed back into his chair, as if floored by a heavyweight boxer.

  Sebastian gave Kelly a reassuring smile. For countless hours during the past week, he had prepared his protégée for this moment. She had turned out to be a quick study. No longer shabbily dressed and with a fading black eye, the young woman standing before them displayed the confidence of someone well aware of the power she now possessed as the majority shareholder of Mellor Travel. Few would have recognized her as the same woman Sebastian had first met in Chicago only a few days earlier.

  Seb had quickly discovered just how intelligent Kelly was, and once she had been released from the shackles of 1532 Taft Road, she had immediately grasped the significance of owning 51 percent of her father’s company. By the day of the board meeting, she was more than ready to play her part in reclaiming her birthright.

  Conrad Sorkin rose slowly from his place, and certainly didn’t appear intimidated. But then Seb suspected he’d been in far tighter spots than this in the past. He was staring directly at Kelly, as if daring her to open her mouth.

  “Mr. Sorkin,” she said, giving him a warm smile, “my name is Kelly Mellor, and I am the daughter of the late Desmond Kevin Mellor, who in his last will and testament left me all his worldly goods.”

  “Miss Mellor,” said Sorkin, “I have to point out that I am still in possession of fifty-one percent of the company’s shares, which I purchased quite legally from your father.”

  “Even if that were true, Mr. Sorkin,” said Kelly, not needing to be prompted by Seb, “if I repay you your ten thousand pounds before close of business today, those shares automatically revert to me.”

  Hardcastle stepped forward, opened his briefcase, and took out his client’s passport, Mellor’s will, and a banker’s order for £10,000. He placed them on the table in front of Sorkin, who ignored them.

  “Before close of business today, if I may be allowed to repeat your words, Miss Mellor,” said Sorkin. “And as the banks close their doors in twelve minutes’ time,” he said, checking his watch, “I think you’ll find that your check cannot be cleared until Monday morning, by which time the contract will be null and void, and it is I who will own Mellor Travel, not you.”

  “If you take the trouble to look more closely,” said Arnold, coming in on cue, “you will see that it’s not a check we’re presenting you with, Mr. Sorkin, but a banker’s order, and therefore legal tender, which allows Miss Mellor, as her father’s heir, to claim back her rightful inheritance.”

  One or two members of the board were looking distinctly uneasy.

  Sorkin counterpunched immediately. “Clearly you are not aware, Mr. Hardcastle, that I have already received the board’s approval to take over the company, as Mr. Knowles will confirm.”

  “Is that correct?” asked Seb, turning to face the chairman.

  Knowles glanced nervously at Sorkin. “Yes, the vote has already been taken, and Sorkin International now controls Mellor Travel.”

  “Perhaps it’s time for you to leave, Mr. Clifton,” said Sorkin, “before you make an even bigger fool of yourself.”

  Seb was about to protest, but he knew that if the board had voted in favor of Sorkin International taking over the company, he would have to abide by their decision, and although Kelly still held 51 percent of the shares, once Sorkin had sold off the company’s assets, they would be worthless.

  Arnold was placing his files back in his briefcase when a lone voice declared, “No vote was taken.”

  Everyone turned to look at one of the directors who had not spoken until then. Sebastian recalled Mellor telling him when he’d visited him in prison that he still had one friend on the inside. “We were just about to take the vote when you arrived,” said Andy Dobbs. “And I can assure you, Mr. Clifton, I may have been the only one, but I would have thrown my support behind Thomas Cook.”

  “As would I,” said another director.

  Knowles looked desperately around the table for support, but it was clear that even his carefully selected placemen were deserting him.

  “Thank you, gentlemen,” said Sebastian. “Perhaps the time has come for you to take your leave, Mr. Sorkin. Or would you like me to put that to a vote?”

  “Piss off, you patronizing git,” said Sorkin. “I’m not that easily threatened.”

  “I wasn’t threatening anyone,” said Seb. “On the contrary. I was trying to be helpful. As you are no doubt aware, it’s June the twelfth, which means you’ve been resident in this country for the past twenty-nine days. So if you have not left these shores by midnight tonight, you will be subject to British taxation, which I’m pretty sure is something you would want to avoid.”

  “You don’t frighten me, Clifton. My lawyers will be more than able to deal with a pipsqueak like you.”

  “Perhaps. But it might be wise to warn them that I felt it was my duty to inform the tax authorities of your presence in Bristol, so don’t be surprised if the police board your yacht at one minute past midnight and seize it.”

  “They wouldn’t dare.”

  “I don’t think that’s a risk you’ll be willing to take, as I also understand Scotland Yard has opened an inquiry into the suspicious death of Desmond Mellor, while the French authorities, who recently recovered a body washed up off the coast of Nice, which they have reason to believe is that of Adrian Sloane, have issued a warrant for your arrest.”

  “They won’t be able to pin anything on me.”

  “Possibly not. But I have a feeling Mr. Knowles may want to assist Interpol with their inquiries. That is, if he doesn’t wish to spend the rest of his life in the same cell as you.”

  Knowles, visibly turning pale, slumped back in his chair.

  “I’d worry about your own life, if I were you, Clifton,” said Sorkin.

  “That was a foolish threat to make in front of so many witnesses,” said Seb, “especially as one of them is a QC, who you will observe is writing down your every word.”

  Sorkin stared at Arnold Hardcastle, and fell silent.

  “Frankly, I think it’s time for you, like your hero Napoleon, to beat a hasty retreat.”

  The two men continued to stare at each other, until Sorkin threw the contract onto the table, picked up the banker’s order, and was about t
o leave the room when Kelly stepped forward once again and said, “Before you go, Mr. Sorkin, can I ask how much you would be willing to offer for my fifty-one percent of Mellor Travel?”

  Everyone turned to face the new head of the company, and Sebastian couldn’t hide his surprise. This wasn’t part of their well-rehearsed script. She was staring directly at Sorkin, waiting for his reply.

  “I would be willing to pay three million pounds for your shares,” said Sorkin calmly, aware that he could still make a handsome profit now that Knowles wouldn’t be getting his million.

  Kelly appeared to consider his proposition before finally saying, “I’m grateful for the offer, Mr. Sorkin, but on balance, I think I’d prefer to deal with Farthings Kaufman.”

  Sebastian smiled at Kelly and breathed a sigh of relief.

  “And as you’ll have to be outside territorial waters before midnight, Mr. Sorkin, I won’t detain you any longer.”

  “Bitch,” said Sorkin as he passed her on the way out of the boardroom.

  Kelly’s smile revealed that she was flattered by the insult.

  Knowles waited until Sorkin had slammed the door behind him before saying, “We were just about to take a vote, Miss Mellor. So can I ask the company secretary to—”

  “That will no longer be necessary,” said Kelly, picking up the agreement Sorkin had left on the table. “As I am now the majority shareholder, it is I who will decide the company’s future.”

  Word perfect, thought Sebastian. Couldn’t have put it better myself.

  “My first decision as the new owner is to fire you, Mr. Knowles, along with the rest of the board. I suggest you all leave immediately.”

  Seb couldn’t resist a smile as Knowles and the rest of the board gathered up their papers and quietly left the room.

  “Well done,” he said, when the last board member had departed.

  “Thank you, Mr. Clifton,” said Kelly. “And allow me to say how much I appreciate all you and your team at Farthings Kaufman have done to make this possible.”

  “My pleasure.”

  “I’m bound to ask,” she continued, “as Mr. Sorkin was willing to offer me three million for my shares, can I assume that Thomas Cook will match that price?”

  She’d turned another page of the script Seb hadn’t read. Before he could respond, Ray Brook chuckled, and said, “You’ve got yourself a deal, young lady.”

  “Thank you,” said Kelly, who turned to the bank’s lawyer and added, “I’ll leave you to draw up the paperwork, Mr. Hardcastle, and do let me know the moment you receive the three million.”

  “I think that’s our cue to leave,” said the chairman of Cook’s, unable to resist a grin. The three men left the boardroom, closing the door behind them.

  Kelly sat down at the head of the table for a few moments before she picked up the phone in front of her and dialed a number she had called every evening for the past two weeks.

  As soon as she heard the familiar voice on the other end of the line, she said, “It all went to plan, Virginia.”

  LADY VIRGINIA FENWICK

  1981–1982

  21

  “I DON’T KNOW HOW to begin to thank you,” said Kelly. “If you hadn’t written to warn me that Mr. Clifton was on his way, I would never have known he was no friend of my father’s.”

  “It was the least I could do,” said Virginia.

  “And then those endless reverse-charge calls. They must have cost you a fortune…”

  “I felt it was important that you knew the truth about Farthings, and particularly how Sebastian Clifton had treated your father in the past.”

  “But he’s always seemed so nice.”

  “Are you surprised, when so many millions were involved? And you have to remember his first interest was always Thomas Cook, not you.”

  “And what a brilliant idea of yours to find out how much Mr. Sorkin would have paid for my shares and then get Thomas Cook to match it.”

  “Your father was not only a close friend, but taught me a great deal about business over the years.”

  “But you didn’t have to lend me twenty thousand pounds until the deal went through.”

  “I thought it would help tide you over.”

  “It will do more than that, so much more,” said Kelly. “I must pay you back every penny I owe you.”

  “There’s no hurry,” said Virginia, who still had over two hundred thousand pounds in her current account, and was already looking forward to another windfall. “More important, Kelly my dear, how is little Cindy settling down?”

  “I’ve never seen her so happy. She loves her new school, and already has several best friends.”

  “I do envy you. I’ve always wanted a child of my own, and now it’s too late. Perhaps you’ll allow me to be an honorary grandmother.”

  “I can’t think of anyone more appropriate to guide Cindy through her formative years,” said Kelly, who hesitated for a moment before adding, “but there’s something else I need to discuss with you, Virginia, that I’ve been feeling a little guilty about.”

  “You have nothing to feel guilty about, my dear. On the contrary. I’ll never be able to repay your father for his kindness to me over the years.”

  “And I must now repay you for your kindness, because I know you and my father were not only close friends, but business partners, and I therefore have to ask you an embarrassing question.” Kelly hesitated again, and this time Virginia didn’t come to her rescue. “What percentage did he pay after you’d closed a deal?”

  A question Virginia was well prepared for. “Desmond was a generous man,” she said, “and always paid me a fee of twenty-five thousand pounds, and ten percent of the final settlement plus any expenses I had incurred on his behalf. But there’s no need for you to—”

  “There most certainly is. I shall treat you the same way my father did, and you’ll be paid in full just as soon as the deal with Thomas Cook goes through.”

  “No hurry, my darling,” said Virginia. “Your friendship is far more important to me.”

  * * *

  Five weeks later Kelly received a check from Thomas Cook for three million pounds, and immediately sent a check to Virginia for £345,000 to cover her loan, her fee, and 10 percent of the three million.

  Virginia didn’t press Kelly for any expenses. After all, she hadn’t invested a great deal to find her quarry. A few phone calls and, once Kelly was back in England, a couple of meals in restaurants where no one was likely to recognize them. The only real cost had been hiring a private detective in Chicago to track down the missing Kelly Mellor. Well, to be accurate, he first caught up with Cindy Mellor at her school, where he handed over two letters to Cindy’s mother when she came to pick up her daughter. Once she’d read the two letters, Kelly made a reverse-charge call from a phone box that afternoon. So when Giles got in touch with Virginia, she knew exactly what he was really after.

  The detective’s bill of $2,000 had been more than covered by Farthings in return for a copy of Desmond Mellor’s will and an address that would lead them to his next of kin. Sebastian Clifton also saved her the expense of traveling to Chicago, bringing Kelly Mellor back to England, and preparing her for the encounter with Sorkin, only to end up having to pay double for Kelly’s 51 percent of the company. Virginia decided she could afford to be magnanimous about expenses this time, confident that Kelly was about to replace her father as an alternative source of income.

  * * *

  “Let me try to understand what you are proposing, Lady Virginia,” said Sir Edward Makepeace. “You want me to approach Cyrus T. Grant’s solicitors, and suggest that instead of paying £100,000 a year for the next nine years, you would be willing to settle the action with a one-off payment of £500,000?”

  “In full and final settlement.”

  “I’ll get in touch with Lord Goodman and let you know what he thinks of your proposal.”

  * * *

  It took Cyrus T. Grant III a month before he agreed t
o settle his action with Virginia for £500,000 in full and final settlement, and only after being nagged constantly by Ellie May.

  “As my grandfather used to say,” she reminded him, “better a dollar in the bank than the promise of a dowry.”

  * * *

  Another month passed before Virginia received a bill from Sir Edward Makepeace, for £2,300, which she settled immediately, as she could never be sure when she might need his services again.

  One of the few letters she did open during the following weeks was from Coutts, informing her that her current account was still £41,000 in credit. Desmond Mellor was proving to be far more lucrative dead than alive.

  When the clocks went back an hour, and the temperature began to drop, Virginia’s thoughts turned to a winter vacation. She was finding it difficult to decide between a villa in the South of France, or the royal suite at the Sandy Lane hotel in Barbados. Perhaps she’d let the young man she’d recently met in Annabel’s decide which he would prefer. She was thinking about Alberto, when she opened another letter which quickly removed any thought of holidays from her mind. After Virginia had recovered from the shock, she looked up the number of her bank manager and made an appointment to see Mr. Leigh the following day.

  * * *

  “One hundred and eighty-five thousand pounds?” protested Virginia.

  “That is correct, my lady,” said Mr. Leigh, once he’d read the letter from HM Inspector of Taxes.

  “But how can that be possible?”

  “I presume you’re familiar with capital gains tax, my lady?”

  “Familiar, yes, but we’ve never been introduced.”

  “Well, I fear you are about to be,” said Leigh, “because the taxman is demanding thirty percent of the £230,000 profit you made from the sale of the Lowrys, the £300,000 commission, and the £25,000 fee you were paid following the successful takeover of Mellor Travel.”