The Prodigal Daughter (34 page)

Read The Prodigal Daughter Online

Authors: Jeffrey Archer

Tags: #Children of immigrants, #Children of immigrants - United States, #Westerns, #General, #Romance, #Sagas, #Fiction, #Businesswomen

“Hell, I wish I
hadn’t taken that pill,” said Richard, “or at least that I
c(
iuld
stay another night.”

Mary started
kissing Richard’s neck while running a hand down his back until she reached
between his legs.

Christ, thought
Richard, I’m only human. And then a door slammed. Mary threw back the covers,
grabbed her negligee, ran across the room and disappeared faster than a thief
when a light is flicked on. Richard pulled the sheets back over his body and
listened to a munriur of conversation which he couldn’t make out.

He spent the
rest of the night in a fitful sleep.

When he came
down to breakfast the next morning, he found Mary chatting to an elderly man
who must once have been very handsome.

The man rose and
shook Richard by the hand. “Allow me to introduce myself. I’m Max Preston,” he
said. “Although I hadn’t planned to he with you this weekend, my business
finished early and I managed to catch the last flight out of Dallas. I
certainly wouldn’t have wanted you to leave my home without having experienced
true southern hospitality.
“ Max
and Richard chatted
over breakfast about the problems they were both facing on Wall Street. They
were deep into the effects of Nixon’s new tax regulations when the butler
announced that the chauffeur was waiting to take Mr. Kane to the airport.

The Prestons
accompanied Richard down the forty steps to the waiting car, where Richard
turned and kissed Mary on the cheek, thankW her for all she had done and shook
Max warmly by the hand.

“I hope we shall
meet again,” said Max.

“That’s a nice
idea. Why don’t you give me a call when you’re next in New York?” Mary smiled
at him gently.

Mary and Max
Preston waved as the Rolls-Royce glided down the long drive.

Once his plane
had taken off, Richard felt a tremendous sense of relief.

The stewardess served
him a cocktail and he began to think about his plans for Monday. To his
delight, Florentyna had dinner waiting for him on his return to
Sixty-fourth
Street.

“The shares are
ours,” he told her excitedly and went over the full details during dinner. They
fell asleep on the sofa by the fire a little before midnight, Florentyna’s hand
resting on his leg.

The next morning
Richard placed a call through to Jake Thomas to inform, him that he was now in
possession of 52 percent.

Richard could
hear an intake of breath.

“As soon as the
certificates are in my lawyer’s hands, I shall come ever to the bank and let
you know how I expect the change-over to be carried out,” “Of course,” said
‘Thomas resignedly. “May I ask from whom you obtained the last two percent?”

“Yes, from an
old triend of mine, Mary Preston.”

There was a
pause at the other end. “Not Mrs. Max Preston of Florida?” asked Jake Thomas.

“Yes,” said
Richard triumphantly.

“Then you
needn’t bother to come over, Mr. Kane, because Mrs. Preston lodged her three
percent of Lester’s with us four weeks ago and we’ve been in possession of the
stock certificates for some time.” The phone clicked.

It was Richard’s
turn to gasp.

When Richard
told Florentyna about the new development, all she could iay was: “You should
have slept with the damned woman. I bet Jake Thomas would have.”

“Would you have
slept with Scott Roberts in the same circumstances?’

“Good
God, no, Mr. Kane.”

“Precisely,
Jessie.”

Richard spent
another sleepless night thinking of how that final 2 percei~t might still be
acquired. It was obvious that each side now had 49 percent of the stock.
Thaddeus Cohen had already warned him that he must face reality and start
thinking of ways to recoup the maximum amount of cash for the shares he already
had. Perhaps he should take a leaf out of Abel’s book and sell heavily on July
29, the day before the meeting. Richard continued to toss and turn as useless
ideas rushed through his mind. He turned over once again and tried to catch
some sleep precisely when Florentyna woke with a start.

“Are you awake?”
she asked quietly.

“Yes, chasing
two percent.”

“So
am
1. Do you remember your mother telling us that someone
had purchased two percent from Mr. Peter Parfitt on behalf of your father to
stop my father from getting his hands on it?”

“Yes, I do,”
said Richard.

“Well, perhaps
they haven’t heard about our offer.”

“My darling,
it’s been in every paper in the United States.”

“So have the
Beatles, but not everyone has heard of them.”

“I suppose it’s
worth a try,” said Richard, picking up the phone by the side of his bed.

“Who are you
calling, the Beatles?”

“No,
my mother.”

“At four o’clock
in the morning? You can’t ring your mother in the middle of the night.”

“I can and I
must.”

“I wouldn t have
told you if I’d known you might do that.”

“Darling, there
are only two and a half days to go before I lose you thirty-seven million
dollars, and the owner of the shares we need so badly might live in Australia.”

The Pre-vent:
1968-1982215

“Good point, Mr.
Kane.”

Richard dialed the
number and waited. A sleepy voice answered the phone.

“Mother?”

“Yes, Richard.
What time is it?”

“Four o’clock in
the morning. I’m sorry to bother you, but there is no one else I can turn to.
Now please listen carefully. You once said that a friend of Father’s bought two
percent of Lester’s stock from Peter Parfitt to keep it from failing into the
hands of Florentyna’s father. Can you remember who it was?”

There was a
pause. “Yes, I think so. It will come back to me if you hold on a minute. Yes,
it was an old friend from England, a banker who had been at Harvard with your
father. The name %
kill
come in a moment.” Richard held
his breath. Florentyna sat up in bed.

“Emson.
Colin Emson,
the chairman of... oh, dear, I can’t remember.”

“Don’t worry,
Mother, that’s enough to be getting on with. You go back to steep.”

“What a
thoughtful and considerate son you are,” said Kate Kane as she put down the
phone.

“Now
what, Richard?”

“Just make
breakfast.”

Florentyna
kissed him on the forehead and disappeared.

Richard picked
up the phone. “International operator, please. What time is it in London?”

“Seven minutes
past nine.”

Richard flicked
through his personal book and said, “Please connect me to

372-771 L”

He waited
impatiently. A voice came on the line.

“Bank
of America.”

“Put me through
to Jonathan Coleman, please.”

Another
wait.

“Jonathan
Coleman.”

“Good morning,
Jonathan, it’s Richard Kane.”

“Nice
to hear from you, Richard.
What can I do for you?”

“I need some
information urgently. Which bank is Colin Emson chairman of?”

“Hold on a
minute, Richard, and I’ll look him up in the Bankers’ Year Book.” Richard could
hear the pages turning. “Robert Fraser and Company” came back the reply. “Only
now he’s Sir Colin Emson.”

“What’s his
number?”

“493-321 L”

“Thank you, Jonathan.
I’ll give you a call when I’m next in London.”

Richard wrote
the number on the comer of an e-pvelope and dialed the international operator
again as Florentyna came into the bedroom.

“Getting
anywhere?”

“I’m about to
find out. Operator, can you please get me a number in London.
Four nine three, three two one one.”
Florentyna sat on the
end of the bed while Richard waited.

“Robert Fraser
and Company.”

“May I speak to
Sir Colin Emson,
please.

“Who shall I say
is calling, sir?”

“Richard
Kane of the Baron Group, New York.”

“Hold on please,
sir.”

Richard waited
again.

“Good morning.
Emson here.”

“Good morning,
Sij Colin. My name is Richard Kane-l think you knew my father?”

“Of
course.
We were at Harvard together. Good
chap,
your old man.
I was very sad to read about his death.
Wrote to your mother
at the time.
Where are you calling from?”

“New York.”

“Get up early,
you Americans. So what can I do for you?”

“Do you still
own two percent of Lester’s Bank shares?” Richard held his breath again.

“Yes, I do.
Paid a bloody king’s ransom for them.
Still, can’t complain.

Your father did
me a few favors in his time.”

“Would you
consider selling them, Sir Colin?”

“If
you’re willing to offer me a sensible price.”

“How much would
you consider sensible?”

There was a long
pause.
“Eight hundred thousand dollars.”

“I accept,” said
Richard without hesitation, “but I must be able to pick them up tomorrow. If I
bank-transfer the money, can you havu all the paper work done by the time I
arrive?”

“Simple, dear
boy, yes,” Emson said without demur. “I’ll also have a car meet you at the
airport and put at your disposal while you’re in London.”

“Thank you, Sir
Colin.”

“Go easy with
the ‘Sir,’ young fellow. I’ve reached that age when I prefer to be called by my
Christian name. Just let me know when you expect to arrive and everything will
be ready for yoa.”

“Thank you...
Colin.”

Richard put down
the phone.

“You’re not
getting dressed, are you?”

“I certainly am.
I won’t get any more sleep tonight. Now, where’s my breakfast?”

By six o’clock
Richard was booked on the nine-fifteen flight from Kennedy Airport. He had also
booked himself on a return flight the following morning at eleven, arriving
back in New York by one thirty-five the following afternoon, giving him
twenty-four hours to spare before the shareholders’ meeting at 2 P. m. on
Wednesday.

“Running things
a bit close, aren’t we?” said Florentyna.

“That’s why I am
going myself and not risking a messenger. “

“Well,
messenger, William will expect you to bring him back a model of a red London
bus.”

“You’re always
making these major commitments on my behalf. It’s a heavy load I carry as the
chief executive of your
group.,,
“I know, dear, and to
think it’s only because you sleep with the chairman.”

By seven Richard
was seated at his office desk writing explicit instructions for the transfer of
the $800,000 by Telex to Robert Fraser and Company, Albermarle Street, London
W. 1. Richard knew the money would be in Sir Colin Emson’s bank long before he
was. At seven-thirty he was driven to the airport and he checked in. The 747
took off on time and he arrived at London’s Heathrow at ten o’clock that night.
Sir Colin Emson had been as good as his word. A driver was waiting to pick him
up and whisk him off to the Baron. The manager had put him in the Davis Leroy
Suite. The Presidential Suite, he explained, was already occupied by Mr.
Jagger. The rest of his group had taken over the ninth floor.

“I don’t think I
know the group,” said Richard. “What area do they specialize in?”

“Singing,” said
the manager.

When Richard
checked at the reception desk, there was a message waiting for him from Sir
Colin suggesting they meet at the bank at nine the following morning.

Richard dined
quietly in his rooms and called Florentyna to bring her up to date before going
to bed.

“Hang in there,
Mr. Kane-we’re all depending on you.”

Richard woke at
seven and packed before going down to breakfast. His father had always gone on
about the kippers in London, so he ordered them with some anticipation. When he
had finished flie last morsel, he realized that they were so good that he would
undoubtedly bore his own son with the same story for man) years to come. After
breakfast, he walked around Hyde Park to kill the hour before the bank opened.
The park was green and the flower beds a mass of untouched daffodils. He
couldn’t help but compare its beauty to Central Park and recalled that London
still had five Royal parks of a similar size.

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