When the Lion Feeds (39 page)

Hell, how can a min so cold-bloodedly betray his trust? Laddie, let's not turn this into a discussion of Max's morals. Let's concern ourselves with the facts. Norman has been delivered into our hands, neatly trussed, spiced with garlic and with a sprig of parsley behind each ear. I say let's cook him and eat him Sean smiled at him. Give me a few good reasons. I want you to convince me. The way I feel towards him after that meeting this afternoon I shouldn't be surprised if I convince easily. fOne, Duff held up a finger. Norman deserves it.

Sean nodded.

TWO, another of Duff's fingers came up. we gain control we can run things the way we want. You can indulge your good resolution and give everybody a pay rise and I'll be top man again. Yes! Sean tugged at his mustache thoughtfully.

We came here to make money, we'll never get another opportunity like this. And my last reason, but the most potent, you look so beautiful in that yellow waistcoat, laddie, I wouldn't miss seeing you in it tomorrow morning, not for a thousand C. R. C. shares. It is rather natty, admitted Sean. But listen, Duff, I don't want another Lochtkamper business. Messy, you know Duff stood up. Norman's a big boy, he wouldn't do that. Anyway, he'll still be rich, he's got his diamond mines. We'll only be relieving him of his responsibilities on the witwatersrand.

They walked across to the horses. Sean had his foot in the stirrup when he stiffened and exclaimed, My God, I can't do it. It's all off. Why?

Duff was alarmed. I spilt gravy on that waistcoat, I can't possibly wear it tomorrow. My tailor would murder me. There was no problem in arranging for Hradsky's absence someone had to go to London. There was machinery to buy for the new areas on the East Rand and they had to select two engineers from the hundred or so applicants waiting in england. Not ungraciously, Hradsky allowed himself to be elected for the job.

well] give him a farewell party, Duff suggested to Sean during dinner that night. Well, not really a farewell party but a wake. Sean started whistling the Dead Much, and Duff tapped it out on the table with the handle of his knife.

We'll have it at Candy's Hot, Duff cut himself short. We'll have it here. We'll really laY it on for poor old Norman so afterwards he'll be able to say, "the bastards may have cleaned me out, but they certainly gave me a grand party". He -doesn't like parties, said Sean.

ITha That's an excellent reason why we should give him one, agreed Duff.

A week later when Hradsky and Max left on the morning coach for Port natal there were fifty members of the Johannesburg Stock Exchange still in full evening dress from the night's party to wave him goodbye, Duff made a touching, if somewhat slurred, little speech and presented hradsky with a bouquet of roses. Nervous of the crowd that milled about them, the horses bolted when the driver cracked his whip and Max and hradsky were thrown together in an undignified heap on the rear seat of the coach. The crowd cheered them out of sight. With an arm around his shoulder Sean led Duff across the street to the office and deposited him in one of the deep leather armchairs.

Are you sober enough to talk sense! Sean asked dubiously. Sure. Always at your service as the lady said to the customer. I managed to have a word with Max last night, Sean told him. He will send us a telegram from Port Natal when he and Hradsky are safely on the mailboat. We won't start anything until we receive it. Very wise, you're the wisest chap I know, Duff grinned happily.

You'd better go to bed, Sean told him. Too far, mid Duff. I'll sleep here It was another ten days before Max's telegram arrived.

Sean and Duff were eating lunch in the Rand Club when it was delivered to their table. Sean slit open the envelope and read the message to duff.

Sailing four o'clock this afternoon. Good luck. Max.

I'll drink to that, Duff lifted his wine glass. Tomorrow, said Sean, I'll go up to the Candy Deep and tell Francois to pull all the men out of the bottom levels of the mine. No one's to be allowed in. Put a guard at the fourteenth level, suggested Duff. That'l make it more impressive. Good idea, agreed Sean. He looked up as someone passed their table and suddenly he started to smile. Duff, do you know who that is?

Who are you talking about! Duff looked bewildered. That chap who's just gone out into the lounge, there he is, going into the lavatorie.

Isn't that Elliott, the newspaper fellow? Editor of the Rand Mail, nodded Sean. Come with me, DuffWhere are we going? To get a bit of cheap publicity Duff followed Sean out of the dining-room, across the lounge and into the men's lavatories. The door of one of the closets was closed and as they walked in someone farted softly behind it. Sean winked at Duff and went across to the urinal. As he addressed himself to it he said, Well, all we can hope for now, Duff, is that Norman will be able to work a miracle in England. Otherwise, He shrugged his shoulder. Duff picked up his cue. We're taking a hell of a chance relying on that. I still say we should sell out now. C. R. C. s were at ninety-one shillings this morning so it's obvious that the story hasn't leaked out yet. But when it does you won't be able to give the bloody shares away. I say we should get out while the going's good.

Sean disagreed. Let's wait until we hear from Norman. It's taking a bit of a chance, I know, but we have a responsibility to the men working for us Sean took Duffs arm and led him out of the lavatory again; at the door he added the cherry to the top of the pie. If and when C. R. C.

collapses there are going to be thousands of men out of work, do you realize that?

Sean closed the door behind them and they grinned delightedly at each other.

You're a genius, laddie, whispered Duff.

I'm happy to say I agree with you, Sean whispered back.

The next morning Sean woke with the knowledge that something exciting was going to happen that day. He lay and savoured the feeling before he sent his mind out to hunt for the reason. Then he sat up suddenly and reached for the newspaper that lay folded on the coffee tray beside his bed. He shook it open and, found what he was looking for on the front page, big headlines: Is all well with the Central Rand Consolidated?

Norman Hradsky's mystery The story itself was a masterpiece of journalistic evasion. Seldom had Sean seen anyone write so fluently or convincingly on a subject about which he knew nothing. It is suggested, Usually reliable sources reported and there is reason to believe', all the old phrases of no significance. Sean groped for his slippers and padded down the corridor to Duffs room.

Duff had all the blankets and most of the bed; the girl was curled up like a pink anchovy on the outskirts. Duff was snoring and the girl whimpered a little in her sleep.

Sean tickled Duffs lips with the tassel of his dressinggown cord, Duff's nose twitched and his snores gargled into silence. The girl sat up and looked at Sean with eyes wide but vacant from sleep. Quickly, run, Sean shouted at her, the rebels are coming. She leapt straight into the air and landed three feet from the bed quivering with panic. Sean ran a critical eye over her. A pretty filly, he decided, and made a mental note to take her for a trot just as soon as Duff put her out to grass.

All right, he reassured her, they've gone away now. She became aware of her nakedness and Sean's frank appraisal of it. She tried to cover it with hands too small for the task. Sean picked up Duff's gown from the foot of the bed and handed it to her. Go and have a bath or somethingg sweetheart, I want to talk to Mr Charleywood With the gown on she recovered her composure and told him severely, I didn't have any clothes on, Mr Courtney. I would never have guessed, said Sean politely. It's not nice. You are too modest, I thought it was better than average. Off you go now, there's a good girl. With a saucy flick of her head she disappeared into the bathroom and Sean transferred his attention to duff. Duff had held 4 grimly onto the threads of sleep throughout the exchange but he let go when Sean whacked him across the backside with the folded newspaper. Like a tortoise coming out of its shell his head emerged from the blankets. Sean handed him the paper and sat down on the edge of the bed. He watched Duff's face crease into laughter lines before he said..

You better get down to the Editor's office and shout at him a little, just to confirm his suspicions. I'll go up to the Candy Deep and close all the bottom levels. I'll meet you back at the Exchange at opening time and don't forget to clean that grin off your face before you show it round town. Try and look haggard, it shouldn't be difficult for you.

When Sean arrived at the Stock Exchange building the crowd had filled the street outside. Mbejane eased the landau into it and it opened to give them a passage. Sean scowled straight ahead and ignored the questions which were shouted at him from all around. Mbejane stopped the carriage outside the main entrance and four police constables held back the mob while Sean hurried across the pavement and through the double doors. Duff was there ahead of him, the centre of a turbulent circle of members and brokers. He saw Sean and waved frantically over the heads of his inquisitors. That was sufficient to switch their attention from Duff to Sean and they flocked to him, ringing him in with anxious angry faces. Sean's hat was knocked forward over his eyes and a button popped off his coat as one of them caught hold of his lapels. Is it true? the man shouted, spittle flying from his lips into Sean's face. We've got a right to know if it's true. Sean swung his cane in a full overarm stroke onto the man's head and sent him tottering backwards into the arms of those behind him. Back, you bastards, he roared at them using both the point and the edge of his cane to beat them away, scattering them across the floor until he stood alone, glowering at them with the cane still twitching restlessly in his hand. I'll make a statement later on. Until then, behave yourselves. He adjusted his hat, picked the loose thread where the button had been from his coat and stalked across to join Duff. He could see Duff's grin starting to lift the corner of his mouth and he cautioned him silently with his eyes.

Grim-faced they walked through into the members, lounge.

How's it going your end? Duff kept his voice low. Couldn't be better.

Sean contrived a worried expression. I've got an armed guard on the fourteenth level. When this bunch hear about that, they'll really start frothing at the mouth. When you make your statement, let it ring with obvious false confidence, Duff instructed. If it goes on like this well have the shares down to thirty-five s. . . . . . . .

within an hour of opening. Five minutes before opening time Sean stood in the President's box and made his address to his fellow members, Duff listened to him with mounting admiration.

Sean's hearty reassurances and verbal side-stepping were enough to strike despair into the souls of the most hardened optunists.

Sean finished his speech and climbed down from the box amid a gloomy lack of applause. The bell rang and -the brokers stood singly or in small disconsolate groups about the floor. The first tentative offer was made. 11 sell C. R. C. But there was no rush to buy. Ten minutes later there was a sale recorded at eighty-five shillings, six shillings lower than the previous day's closing price. Duff leaned across to Sean. We'll have to start selling some of our own shares to get things moving, otherwise everybody's going to keep sitting on the fence. That's all right, Sean nodded, we'll buy them back later at a quarter of the price. But wait until the news about the Candy Deep gets out. It was just before ten o'clock when that happened. The reaction was sharp. In one quick burst of selling C. R. C. s dropped to sixty shillings. But there they hung, fluctuating nervously in the chaos of hope and doubt. We'll have to sell now, whispered Duff, they are short of script. We'll have to give it to them otherwise the price will stick here. Sean felt his hands trembling and he clenched them in his pockets. Duff was showing signs of the strain as well, there was a nerve jumping in his cheek and his eyes had receded into their sockets a little. This was a game with high stakes. Don't overdo it, sell thirty thousand The price of C. R. C. s sagged under the weight but levelled out at forty-five shillings. There was still another hour until high change and Sean's whole body was screwed up tight with tension. He felt the cold patches of sweat under his arms. Sell another thirty thousand, he ordered his clerk and even to himself his voice sounded wheezy. He stubbed out his cigar in the copper ashtray next to his chair; it was already half full of butts. It was no longer necessary for either of them to act worried. This time the price stuck at forty shillings and the sale of sixty thousand more of their shares failed to move it down more than a few shillings.

Someone's buying up, muttered Sean uneasily.

It looks like it, agreed Duff. I'll lay odds it's that bloody Greek efthyvoulos. It looks as if we'll have to sell enough to glut him before they'll drop any further. By high change Duff and Sean had sold three-quarters of their holdings in C. R. C. s and the price still stood stubbornly at thirty-seven and sixpence. So tantalizingly close to the magic figure that would release a flood of Hradsky's shares onto the unprepared market, but now they were nearing the stage when they would no longer have any shares with which to force the price down that last two and sixpence.

The market closed and left Duff and Sean sitting limply in their armchairs, shaken and tired as prizefighters at the end of the fifteenth round. Slowly the lounge emptied but still they sat on. Sean leaned across and put his hand on Duffs shoulder. It's going to be all right, he said. Tomorrow it will be all right. They looked at each other and they exchanged strength, each of them drawing it from the other until they were both smiling. Sean stood up. Come on, let's go home.