Eagles

by Lewis Orde

  ‘Is there anyone worth seeking out as an ally?’

  ‘No. They’re all old and on the board by reason of longevity. If I controlled the firm I’d do exactly what you’re planning to do – get rid of the lot, appoint a new board and start from scratch.’ Michael smothered another yawn. ‘But there’s one thing I want to get clear before we even start, Roland. I want to know exactly why you’re doing this. Is it for revenge against my father? If it is, I don’t want any part of it. I’m not blind to my father’s shortcomings, but I won’t help you run him down for your own personal satisfaction.’

  ‘Any revenge I wanted against your father I took when I sold that consignment in Berwick Street. Rest assured I wouldn’t try to turn you against him over something like that. The truth is’ – Roland paused long enough to light a cigarette – ‘that right now I’ve got a jumble of a company, chains of small shops, a couple of factories, even a restaurant. It’s time to head those companies up with something big and respectable. I can’t think of anything more respectable than Adler’s, even if it is on its last legs right now.’

  Michael relaxed. ‘I did notice some writer in the financial press referring to you as a rag-tag of companies with, I believe he said, little apparent cohesion or direction.’

  ‘But we make money, and you can’t argue with that. Coincidentally, at our last weekly meeting we were discussing where to go next. Basically, we’re retailers, and now we’re thinking of branching out into other retail areas. This couldn’t have come at a better time.’

  ‘Don’t count your chickens just yet,’ Michael cautioned. ‘My father’s still very keen on the offer for the two stores. He’ll do anything to keep Regent Street operating – until bad management decisions fritter away that money as well.’

  ‘Who’s making the offer? And how hard will they fight to get those two stores?’

  ‘Difficult to say. It’s a German conglomerate – into everything from engineering to retail – that wants to get its first foothold in Britain.’

  ‘German?’ Roland’s brow creased. ‘Your grandfather must be spinning in his grave at the thought of your father selling two of the stores to a German company.’

  ‘The offer came right out of the blue, and my father’s naturally grabbing at it. I can’t say I’m too keen on the idea myself, selling to Germans, especially for what I consider to be a low price, but Kassler, the president of the company, is pushing my father hard.’

  ‘Kassler?’ Roland felt his stomach give a sudden, uncomfortable lurch.

  ‘Heinrich Kassler.’ Michael went right on talking, unaware of Roland’s confusion. ‘Took over his father’s engineering business in Stuttgart after the war. Got a reputation as a good German so he got all the breaks from the occupying forces. Now he’s richer than we are.’

  Could it be? At first, Roland refused to believe it. Surely there must be a hundred . . . a thousand . . . Germans with the same name of Heinrich Kassler. But from Stuttgart? A good German who took over his father’s engineering business?

  The kitchen door swung open suddenly and Janet stood there, a dressing gown covering her flimsy nightdress. She stared at Michael and Roland, the dirty cups, the ashtray full of crushed-out cigarettes. ‘What’s going on? It’s five o’clock and I wondered where the hell you were.’

  ‘You know Michael, don’t you?’

  ‘Of course I know Michael. What’s he doing here?’

  ‘He’s about to run me back to London.’

  ‘Now?’ The surprised question came simultaneously from both of them. ‘Let me get a couple of hours’ sleep first,’ Michael said. ‘Unless you want to end up a Bank Holiday traffic statistic.’

  ‘Use the couch in the living room.’

  ‘What’s this all about?’ Janet asked after Michael walked sleepily out of the kitchen.

  ‘I’ve got to see Simon.’

  ‘Today? Right this instant? Why can’t you telephone him?’

  ‘It’s too important to discuss over the phone. I want us to go for Adler’s.’

  The importance of it went right by Janet; all she could think of was the immediate weekend. ‘Roland you haven’t had a holiday yet this year. These three days are it! The only time you’ll have with us . . .’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he said, interrupting her. He kissed her, held her tightly. The warmth of the bed still surrounded her and he almost changed his mind. He couldn’t do anything until Tuesday when the banks and the Stock Exchange reopened, so why should he rush back to London now, on Saturday morning? Why see Simon when a telephone call would surely suffice? He knew the answer: to share the news and get his partner’s approval to move on the deal . . . and to see the expression on Simon’s face when he learned what that deal included.

  ‘Nothing’s open until Tuesday,’ Janet said, as if reading Roland’s mind. ‘How bloody urgent can it be?’

  ‘This particular deal is urgent enough to warrant my seeing Simon.’

  She fought her way out of his arms and stepped back a pace. ‘Are you putting me into a compartment already?’

  ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

  ‘Three days in the entire year is all you’ve given me and your children. Three days in one lump. And now you’re even backing out of that.’

  ‘I’ll be back this evening, I promise you.’

  ‘But your mind will still be in London. We don’t want just your physical presence, Roland. We want you.’

  Roland decided to kill the argument. Another minute or two of raised voices and the entire household would be awake. ‘I’m going to do the same as Michael, grab a couple of hours’ sleep. Coming?’

  ‘No. Once I’m up I stay up.’ She turned away from him, arms folded resolutely across her chest. Roland just shook his head in exasperation and went to bed.

  He was unable to sleep, though. Instead he lay tossing and turning, his mind concentrating on Adler’s – and Heinrich Kassler. Could it be the same man he’d come so close to shooting at Bergen-Belsen? The good German? That’s what Michael Adler had called him . . . How many good Germans were there with the name of Heinrich Kassler, whose fathers had owned engineering factories in Stuttgart? And hadn’t Alf Goldstein once mentioned that Kassler was one of the leading lights in trying to rebuild Germany? Damn – it had to be the same man. Just wait until Goldstein heard about it! He would want to meet Kassler again as much as Roland did.

  But did Roland want to meet him? Now, when he wanted to steal Adler’s from underneath his nose? Perhaps . . . perhaps it would be better to meet him afterwards, once the deed was accomplished. On that sweet note of anticipated triumph, Roland finally drifted off to sleep.

  *

  Christopher Mellish banged on the bedroom door at eight-fifteen. Roland rose quickly, dressed while cursing himself for oversleeping. He had wanted to be well on the way to London by now, but when he came out of the bedroom he saw that Michael Adler still slept soundly on the living room couch. Without ceremony, Roland woke him. ‘Time to get going. If you want a job as my chauffeur you’re going to have to keep better hours than this.’

  Sally made the two men breakfast and Roland asked where Janet and the children were. Sally pointed outside. Through the window Roland could see Katherine riding a docile mare. Dressed in jodhpurs, tweed jacket and hard black hat, Katherine sat comfortably erect, her hands gripping the reins with the authority of a rider years older. Beyond her was Janet in a pair of slacks and an old sweater, keeping a watchful eye on Richard and Carol as they chased each other.

  ‘I’ll see you outside,’ Roland told Michael. He went through the kitchen door and approached Janet. ‘I’m sorry about before. I’ll get back as soon as I can.’

  Janet said nothing as she watched him pick up Richard and Carol, bouncing them in his arms and closing his eyes as they ran their hands across his face. ‘Are you still mad at me?’ he asked.

  ‘Ask your children. They also wanted to spend some time with you this weekend.’

  Gently, he place
d the two younger children on the ground and turned toward Katherine. ‘I have to go away for the day,’ he said, ‘but I’ll be back tonight. All right?’

  ‘Everyone else is on holiday this weekend,’ Katherine replied primly, looking down at her father from the mare, her blue eyes like chips of glittering ice. ‘Why can’t you stay here?’

  *

  Roland tried to make light of her cold anger. ‘You know, for a ten-year-old you’re very adult. I’ve never been snubbed more effectively by a grown woman.’

  Katherine dug her heels into the mare and cantered away, leaving Roland standing alone, feeling foolish. Finally he turned back to Janet. ‘I guess I’m at the bottom of the popularity poll.’

  ‘You could be right. What time will you be back?’

  ‘Before dinner.’

  ‘Make sure Michael takes it easy – all the lunatics are on the road this weekend.’

  He smiled at the truce contained in Janet’s word of caution. ‘I’ll probably be coming back by train. I’ll ring through and Christopher can pick me up at the station.’ After kissing Janet, he followed Michael to the car.

  They arrived at Simon Aronson’s home shortly after one o’clock. Nadine let them in, surprised at the unexpected visit, and took them through to the drawing room where Simon was going over some papers from the bank.

  ‘I thought you were going away for the weekend,’ he said.

  ‘I did. I came back.’

  ‘So I see. And you brought Michael with you. What’s up?’

  Roland let Michael speak. Simon listened attentively while he described the offer that had been made for the branch stores, the way the business had been run down and how it was only a matter of time before the Regent Street store went the same way.

  ‘I think we should step in immediately, Simon,’ Roland said the moment Michael had finished. ‘This Tuesday, as the market opens, mount a raid. We’ll have Michael’s ten percent of the equity and we’ll work on the forty percent that the public holds. That’ll give us half. Then we’ll work on the other directors.’

  To Roland’s surprise, Simon shook his head. ‘No, Roland. I don’t think it’s in our best interests to go after Adler’s. Let this German have the two stores. Let him take the gamble – and the loss if it doesn’t pay off.’

  ‘What?’ Roland could hardly believe what he was hearing. Simon had never gone against him before. ‘It’s there for the taking. You might be satisfied with the profits we’ve got coming in at the moment, but a company like Adler’s will give us legitimacy.’

  ‘Roland, I already have legitimacy. I’m the director of a bank and a reputable newspaper. Besides, I don’t think it’s legitimacy you’re after. I think you’re more interested in revenge.’

  ‘Against Albert Adler?’ Roland glanced at Michael, recalling his questions. ‘That has nothing to do with it. I’m only interested in what’s best for us.’

  ‘Are you? Interested in what’s best for us? Then why didn’t you offer to help me yesterday, when I begged you for help with Sharon?’

  ‘Michael, wait outside, will you?’ Roland said quietly. He waited until Michael had left the room. ‘What was that last comment supposed to mean?’

  ‘You wouldn’t intercede with Sharon for me. You, the one person she would listen to, refused to step in and tell her the truth. Instead you gave me advice. So I tried your way. Sharon and Graham were here for dinner last night, as they are every Friday night. Graham mentioned twenty thousand pounds as the sum he needed to launch his licensing venture. I turned him down, just like you suggested. We argued, and when he stormed out of the house, Sharon went with him. He has Sharon so twisted around his little finger that he used my refusal to turn her against us. Do you know what she said? She told us she hated us because we had rejected her husband, refused to help him when we could so easily afford to. This morning Graham telephoned me, threatening to leave Sharon if I didn’t change my mind.’

  Roland was amazed. ‘What the devil is wrong with that? It’s the only way to make Sharon see the rotten truth of the situation. Graham will leave, and she’ll be well rid of him. No matter how much she’s in love with him, even she will understand the truth eventually.’

  ‘Eventually . . .’ Simon repeated the word softly. ‘And what will happen until eventually comes?’

  ‘Simon, I never thought you were a coward. Stand up and face the problem. Use this opportunity to get that leech out of Sharon’s life. Everyone will be better off. Or’ – like a chess player, Roland’s mind moved around to explore all the options – ‘are you waiting for me to speak to Sharon before you’ll agree to this Adler’s deal?’

  ‘Would you?’ A flicker of hope shone in Simon’s eyes.

  ‘No, Simon. Not even if this Adler’s deal hinges on it.’

  The telephone rang. Simon cocked his head and waited to see if Nadine would answer it. When she did he turned back to Roland. ‘No matter what you’ve told Michael, I still believe you want Adler’s for one reason and one reason only . . . to get back at Albert Adler. To show him – and the world – that you never forget a slight. That’s not the way to run a business, Roland.’

  ‘Simon, you’ll never understand—’ Roland broke off as the drawing room door opened and Nadine rushed in, her face white, eyes brimming with tears.

  ‘That was Sharon on the phone!’ she burst out. ‘Graham’s left. Took a suitcase and walked out.’

  Roland watched Simon intently; now he had to decide how he would handle his son-in-law. ‘It’s a ploy,’ Simon answered. ‘He’ll return if he gets the money he wants.’

  ‘Do you mean you’re going to give in to him?’ Roland asked. ‘Because if you do, it’ll happen again and again and again. He’s a blackmailer, and a blackmailer never stops taking. And Sharon will go through this hell every single time.’

  ‘What do you care? All you’re interested in is revenge against Albert Adler.’ Simon turned back to Nadine. ‘Did she say anything else?’

  ‘Yes. She blamed us for it.’

  ‘Let me speak to her,’ Simon said resignedly. ‘I’ll make everything right.’

  ‘What about Adler’s?’ Roland asked.

  ‘What about them? Can’t you see I have no time to discuss it with you now?’

  ‘Simon . . .’ Roland didn’t know how sincere Simon was in blaming him, but it was obvious that the argument with Sharon had temporarily unbalanced his thinking. He was caught up completely with this one problem, and while Roland sympathized he couldn’t afford to wait until this family matter was sorted out. Adler’s wouldn’t be there forever. If he were to act at all he had to act now. He took a deep breath and forced himself to be firm. ‘I want Adler’s. If you aren’t interested in this move, then I think it’s time we took a good, objective look at our partnership.’

  ‘You mean, dissolve it?’ Simon said flatly, as if he couldn’t care less.

  ‘Perhaps. Isn’t that what happens when two equal partners can’t agree on a course of action?’ Roland was sure that the ultimatum would snap Simon’s back to reality.

  He was wrong. ‘Then dissolve it,’ Simon said abruptly. ‘I have more important things to worry about.’

  *

  Roland had intended to take the train back to Somerset. Instead, Michael offered to drive him back to the farm, feeling in some way responsible for the argument with Simon. Roland accepted the offer, then changed his mind. He wanted to go to Wembley and spend the weekend going through the company’s accounts.

  He telephoned Janet from his office. ‘I won’t be able to get back today,’ he said.

  ‘Why not?’

  Briefly, he told her of the meeting with Simon, the question that had been raised about their continuing partnership. To his surprise she wasn’t interested in hearing any of it. All she seemed to understand was that Roland was reneging on his promise to spend the weekend with her and the children. ‘I’ll try to get back tomorrow. Just give me a chance to go over all the figures so I’ll have some idea
of a settlement.’

  ‘Roland, I don’t care about your figures. I’m not the slightest bit interested in your damned business! You have a responsibility to be with your family. Even if Richard and Carol are too young to understand that you’re not here, Katherine’s going to be even more hurt than she is already. Not to mention me!’

  He recalled the glint of icy steel in Katherine’s eyes as she had wheeled the horse away from him that morning.

  ‘Katherine wants a father, Roland – someone she can rely on. The last thing she needs is a man who drifts in and out of her life whenever he feels his business commitments permit him to. She’s finally able to lead somewhat of a normal life. Don’t dangle her on a string now.’

  Roland cast his eyes frantically around the office. Papers were scattered all over the desk where he had hurriedly pulled them from files. Michael sat expectantly in a chair. ‘I’ll be there in three hours, but I’m bringing work with me.’

  ‘Bring all you want with you. But do it at night when the children are in bed.’

  He hung up, sorted through the files and jammed everything he needed into a briefcase. ‘Is that offer still open? For the ride?’

  ‘Let me get some clothes from my apartment. I’ll spend the weekend at the farm with you.’

  ‘Fine. They’ve got a spare bedroom you can use. Otherwise you can sleep in the barn – probably with me.’

  *

  The weekend was ruined, not only for Roland but for everyone. Despite being there he shut everything from his mind, leaving Janet and the children to themselves while he spent hours poring over the company figures. Michael, feeling embarrassed at what was obviously an awkward situation, did his best to relieve it by offering to go riding with Katherine. She considered the invitation for a moment, then climbed down from her mare and walked away. She didn’t want a substitute; if her own father didn’t care enough to spend time with her, she wasn’t interested in a friend who was trying to cover for him.

  On Sunday afternoon, having divorced himself from the coldness of everyone around him, Roland telephoned Simon. He skirted around the real purpose of the call by first asking about Sharon, and was relieved when Simon mentioned that she was at the house, having succumbed to her parents’ pleas to talk it over. If only Simon would stick to his guns, Roland thought, then this could be the start for Sharon to escape the trap her marriage had become.