Conflict of Interest

‘Ready for your grand tour?’ she asked him now with a smile.

‘Of course.’ Getting up he made his way over to her.

‘Executive quarters suit you?’

Gesturing at his office, he grinned. ‘Great office. But why me?’

‘Oh, Mike probably just wants to keep an eye on you.’ Although she made light of it, the thought that had already occurred to Chris and made him feel uneasy.

‘We’ll start at the beginning,’ she said as they made their way to the lift. ‘First floor. Ground floor only has Reception and Security.’

They hadn’t spoken since Nathan’s death, and on the way down Chris said, ‘I remember you saying you worked very closely with Nathan.’

‘It’s been very sad,’ she met his eyes, ‘not to mention a hard slog trying to reassure the market that Starwear is still a good buy.’

‘You’ve started working with Jacob?’

She pulled a face. ‘Trying. Only, I haven’t even met him yet. Mike recruited a new account director called Elliott North from New York to make Jay feel at home. But Elliott’s in protective mode at the moment and it’s hard to get anywhere near Jacob.’

‘Quick hire?’

‘Didn’t go through the usual channels. You see, Elliott’s worked for Jay Strauss for years in America. He’s often come over here to advise on Starwear International business. He has, what can I say, a very different style of operating.’

The lift doors opened and Chris was hit by the tidal wave of noise rolling down a lengthy, open-plan office. Windows ran along the right-hand side of the building, offices down the left, and the area in between was a vast runway of frenetic activity at clustered desks, with Lombard consultants calling out to each other and talking excitedly into telephones, hurrying towards screeching fax machines with papers flying in their hands. Press releases were being hastily composed at computer terminals, while other consultants were vigorously debating tactics around the coffee percolator.

Noticing his surprised expression, Kate told Chris, ‘It’s called the Pit. It’s where the foot soldiers work.’

Chris couldn’t help contrasting it with the silent sanctitude of the fourth floor.

‘It’s not always quite as noisy as this. But we’ve an Evening Standard deadline in forty-five minutes and there’s all the morning announcements to get through.’

As they began walking past the desks Chris asked, ‘How is it all arranged?’

‘Account handling teams. Each group’, she gestured towards a cluster of desks, ‘looks after an average of eight or nine clients.’

‘And what do they do for them?’

‘This floor is all financial and corporate PR. We get the best possible coverage of our clients’ financial results in the press and also try to persuade analysts to write up favourable reports. Analyst reports are critical, because they’re the basis on which most of the shares traded in London are bought or sold.’

They sidestepped a group of secretaries bitching over the water dispenser.

‘Things round here get especially hectic in March and September,’ Kate continued. ‘That’s when most of our clients report their interim and annual results.’

Chris nodded. ‘I heard a story about some guy who didn’t go home for a week,’ he told her in a tone of disbelief.

‘That was Andy.’ She pointed out a tall, darkly handsome man who had a beard shadow and drawn face even though it was just after nine. ‘Actually, he had a sleepover last night.’

Chris absorbed this information without comment. Even his friends who worked in merchant banks seemed able to return to their homes at night – even if it was sometimes in the early hours of the morning. He didn’t think he’d ever come across such incredibly long hours in his life.

As though picking up on his concern, Kate said, ‘It’s only really during corporate takeover battles when that kind of thing happens. You have to concentrate huge amounts of time in war meetings and analyst briefings and putting together bid and defence documents.’

Chris nodded.

‘It’s usually a very bonding experience – you really get to see your clients’ true colours. I really got to know Nathan during the Strauss bid for Royalmaine. He often used to camp in the flat upstairs.’

‘Didn’t know there was one.’

‘Penthouse floor, above the Boardroom. Access to it is jealously guarded.’