Mightier Than the Sword (The Clifton Chronicles 5)

“No, I don’t,” said the inspector. “Although it’s just possible that he could have saved his life. But even Inspector Warwick would find that hard to prove.”

* * *

The Rt. Rev. Ashley Tadworth, Bishop of Huddersfield, climbed the half-dozen steps and took his place in the pulpit, during the last verse of “Abide With Me.”

He looked down at the packed congregation and waited until everyone was settled. Some, who hadn’t been able to find a seat, were standing in the aisles, while others, who’d arrived late, were crammed together at the back of the church. It was a mark of the man.

“Funerals are, naturally, sad events,” began the bishop. “Even more so when the departed has achieved little more than leading a blameless life, which can make delivering their eulogy a difficult task. That was not my problem when I prepared my address on the life, the exemplary life, of Cedric Arthur Hardcastle.

“If you were to liken Cedric’s life to a bank statement, he left this world with every account in credit. Where do I begin, to tell you the unlikely tale of this remarkable Yorkshireman?

“Cedric left school at the age of fifteen and joined his father at Farthings Bank. He always called his father ‘sir,’ both at work and at home. In fact, his father retired just in time not to have to call his son ‘sir.’”

A little laughter broke out among the congregation.

“Cedric began his working life as a junior trainee. Two years later he became a teller, even before he was old enough to open a bank account. From there he progressed to undermanager, branch manager, and later, area controller, before becoming the youngest director in the bank’s history. And frankly no one was surprised when he became chairman of the bank at the age of forty-two, a position he held for the past twenty-three years, during which time he took Farthings from being a local bank in a small town in Yorkshire to one of the most respected financial institutions in the City of London.

“But something that would not have changed, even if Cedric had become chairman of the Bank of England, was his constant refrain that if you take care of the pennies, the pounds will take care of themselves.”

* * *

“Do you think we’ve got away with it?” asked Sloane nervously.

“If, by that, you’re asking if everything you’ve done in the past four days is legal and above board, the answer is yes.”

“Do we have a quorum?”

“We do,” said Malcolm Atkins, the bank’s chief legal advisor. “The managing director, the company secretary, and six nonexecutive directors are waiting for you in the boardroom. Mind you,” he added, “I’d be fascinated to know what you said to them when they suggested that perhaps they ought to be attending a funeral in Huddersfield today rather than a board meeting in London.”

“I told them quite simply that the choice was theirs. They could vote for a place in this world or the next.”

Atkins smiled and checked his watch. “We should join them. It’s almost ten.”

The two men left Sloane’s office and walked silently down the thickly carpeted corridor. When Sloane entered the boardroom, everyone stood, just as they’d always done for the late chairman.

“Gentlemen,” said the company secretary once they had all settled. “This extraordinary meeting has been called for one purpose, namely…”

* * *

“Whenever we think of Cedric Hardcastle,” continued the bishop, “we should remember one thing above all. He was quintessentially a Yorkshireman. If the second coming had taken place at Headingley during the tea interval of a Roses match, he would not have been surprised. It was Cedric’s unswerving belief that Yorkshire was a country, not a county. In fact, he considered Farthings Bank to have become international not when he opened a branch in Hong Kong but when he opened one in Manchester.”

He waited for the laughter to die down before he continued.

“Cedric was not a vain man, but that didn’t stop him being a proud one. Proud of the bank he served every day, and even prouder of how many customers and staff had prospered under his guidance and leadership. So many of you in this congregation today, from the most junior trainee to the president of Sony International, have been beneficiaries of his wisdom and foresight. But what he will most be remembered for is his unquestionable reputation—for honesty, integrity, and decency. Standards he took for granted when dealing with his fellow men. He considered a good deal was one in which both sides made a profit, and would be happy to raise their hats to each other whenever they passed in the street.”

* * *

“The one item on today’s agenda,” continued the company secretary, “is for the board to elect a new chairman, following the tragic death of Cedric Hardcastle. Only one name has been proposed, that of Mr. Adrian Sloane, the head of our highly profitable property division. Mr. Sloane has already obtained the legal backing of sixty-six percent of our shareholders, but he felt his appointment should also be ratified by the board.”

Malcolm Atkins came in on cue. “It is my pleasure to propose that Adrian Sloane be the next chairman of Farthings Bank, as I feel that is what Cedric would have wanted.”

“I’m delighted to second that motion,” said Desmond Mellor, a recently appointed non-executive director.

“Those in favor?” said the company secretary. Eight hands shot up. “I declare the motion carried unanimously.”

Sloane rose slowly to his feet. “Gentlemen. Allow me to begin by thanking you for the confidence you have shown by electing me as the next chairman of Farthings. Cedric Hardcastle’s shoes are not easy ones to step into. I replace a man who left us in tragic circumstances. A man we all assumed would be with us for many years to come. A man I could not have admired more. A man I considered not only a colleague, but a friend, which makes me all the more proud to pick up his baton and carry it on the next leg of the bank’s race. I respectfully suggest that we all rise, and bow our heads in memory of a great man.”

* * *