“As I approach old age, I have if anything become more cautious, more boring and, indeed, that is the reputation I would want to take to the grave when I eventually face my maker. So it may come as something of a shock to those seated around this table that I now intend to ignore every tenet on which I have based my whole life, and it may be even more surprising that I am inviting you to do the same.”
The six other people seated around the table may not have interrupted, but they were listening intently to every word Cedric Hardcastle had to say.
“With that in mind, I’m going to ask every one of you to assist me in destroying an evil, corrupt and unscrupulous man, so that when we are finished with him, he will be left so broken that he will never be able to harm anyone else again.
“From a distance, I have been able to observe Don Pedro Martinez as he systematically went about destroying two decent families with whom I’ve become associated. And I must tell you that I am no longer willing to stand by and, like Pontius Pilate, wash my hands and leave it to others to do the dirty work.
“On the other side of the cautious, boring, dull coin, is etched a figure with a reputation garnered in the City of London over a lifetime. I now intend to take advantage of that reputation by calling in favors and debts that I have stored up, like a squirrel, for decades. With that in mind, I have recently spent some considerable time devising a plan to destroy Martinez and his family, but I cannot hope for a successful outcome working on my own.”
Still no one seated around that table gave a moment’s thought to interrupting the chairman of Farthings.
“During the past few years, I have observed the lengths to which this man is willing to go to destroy the Clifton and Barrington families, who are represented here today. I witnessed at first hand his attempt to influence a potential client of this bank, Mr. Morita of Sony International, by having Farthings removed from the bidding list for a major contract, for no other reason than Sebastian Clifton was my personal assistant. We won that contract, but only because Mr. Morita had the courage to stand up to Martinez, while I did nothing. Some months ago, I read an article in The Times concerning the mysterious Pierre Bouchard and the heart attack that never happened but that nevertheless caused Sir Giles Barrington to withdraw his candidacy for the leadership of the Labor Party, and I still did nothing. More recently, I attended the funeral of an innocent, highly talented young woman who drew the picture of me that you can all see on the wall beside my desk. During her funeral service, I decided I could no longer be a dull and boring man, and if it meant breaking the habits of a lifetime, so be it.
“For the past few weeks, without Don Pedro Martinez being aware of what I was up to, I have spoken in confidence to his bankers, stockbrokers and financial advisers. All of them assumed that they were dealing with that dull fellow from Farthings, who would never consider exceeding his authority, let alone overstep the mark. I discovered that over the years, Martinez, who is a chancer, has taken several risks, while at the same time showing scant regard for the law. If my plan is to succeed, the trick will be to spot the moment when he takes one risk too many. Even then, if we are to beat him at his own game we may need to take the occasional risk ourselves.
“You will have noticed that I have invited one other person to join us today, whose life has not been tainted by this man. My son Arnold is a barrister,” said Cedric, nodding to the younger imprint of himself seated on his right, “and, like myself, he is considered a safe pair of hands, which is why I have asked him to act as my conscience and guide. Because if, for the first time in my life, I am going to bend the law to breaking point, I will need someone to represent me who is able to remain detached, dispassionate and uninvolved. Put simply, my son will act as our moral compass.
“I will now ask him to reveal what I have in mind, so you will be in no doubt of the risk you would be taking should you decide to join me in this venture. Arnold.”
“Ladies and gentlemen, my name is Arnold Hardcastle, and much to my father’s chagrin, I chose to be a lawyer rather than a banker. When he says that I am, like him, a safe pair of hands, I consider that a compliment, because if this operation is to succeed, one of us will have to be. After studying the government’s latest finance bill, I believe I’ve found a way to make my father’s plan work, which, although not breaking the letter of the law, would certainly be ignoring its spirit. Even with that proviso, I have come up against a problem that might possibly prove insurmountable. Namely, we need to identify an individual whom no one around this table has ever met, but who feels just as passionately about bringing Don Pedro Martinez to justice as do all of you.”
Although still no one spoke, the lawyer was greeted with looks of incredulity.
“If such a man or woman cannot be identified,” continued Arnold Hardcastle, “I have advised my father to drop the whole idea and send you on your separate ways, aware that you may have to spend the rest of your days continually looking over your shoulder, never certain when or where Martinez will strike next.” The lawyer closed his folder. “If you have any questions, I will try to answer them.”
“I don’t have a question,” said Harry, “but I can’t see how it’s possible to find such an individual given the circumstances. Everyone I know who has come across Martinez detests the man as much as I do, and I suspect that goes for everyone around this table.”
“I agree,” said Grace. “In fact, I’d be quite happy for us to draw straws to decide which one of us should kill him. I wouldn’t mind spending a few years in jail if it meant we could finally rid ourselves of that dreadful creature.”
“I couldn’t help you there,” said Arnold. “I specialize in company law, not criminal, so you would need to find another advocate. Should you decide to go down that route, however, there are one or two names I could recommend.”
Emma laughed for the first time since Jessica’s death, but Arnold Hardcastle didn’t.
“I’ll bet there are at least a dozen men in Argentina who would meet those requirements,” said Sebastian. “But how would we go about finding them when we don’t even know who they are?”
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“And when you did find them,” said Arnold, “you would have defeated the purpose of my father’s plan, because if the action ended up in a court of law, you couldn’t claim you didn’t know of their existence.”
There followed another long silence, which was finally broken by Giles, who hadn’t spoken until then. “I think I’ve come across such a man.” He had grabbed the attention of everyone around the table in a single sentence.
“If that’s the case, Sir Giles, I will need to ask you a number of questions about this particular gentleman,” said Arnold, “and the only answer that would be acceptable in law is no. Should your answer to even one of my questions be yes, then the gentleman you have in mind is not eligible to carry out my father’s plan. Is that clear?”
Giles nodded as the barrister reopened his file and Emma crossed her fingers.
“Have you ever met this man?”
“No.”
“Have you ever conducted any business transactions with him, either on your own behalf or through a third party?”
“No.”
“Have you ever spoken to him on the telephone?”
“No.”
“Or written to him?”