Mightier Than the Sword (The Clifton Chronicles 5)

“Because I saw your name in a visitors’ book and thought you just might like to know that I own six percent of Farthings Bank.”

Seb could tell nothing from the expression on Bishara’s face. “How much did you pay for your shares, Mr. Clifton?”

“I’ve been purchasing Farthings’ stock regularly over the past five years, and the price has averaged out at around two pounds.”

“Then it has proved a worthwhile investment, Mr. Clifton. Am I to assume you now wish to sell your shares?”

“No. Mr. Sloane has already made me an offer of five pounds a share, which I turned down.”

“But you would have made a handsome profit.”

“Only in the short term.”

“And if I were to offer you more?”

“It would be of no interest to me. I still intend to take my place on the board.”

“Why?”

“Because I began my working life at Farthings as Cedric Hardcastle’s personal assistant. After his death, I resigned, and joined Kaufman’s.”

“Shrewd old bugger, Saul Kaufman, and a smart operator. Why did you leave Farthings?”

“Let’s just say there was a difference of opinion over who should attend funerals.”

“So Sloane wouldn’t be happy if you were to join the board?”

“If murder was legal, I’d be dead.”

Bishara took out his check book and asked, “What’s your favorite charity?” That was one question Seb hadn’t been prepared for.

“The Boy Scouts.”

“Yes, I can believe that,” said Bishara, smiling as he wrote out a check, not for a hundred pounds, but for a thousand. “A pleasure to have met you, Mr. Clifton,” he said, as he handed it over. “I have a feeling we may meet again.”

Seb shook his outstretched hand and was about to leave when Bishara added, “What was the one thing in particular we have in common?”

“The oldest profession. Except in my case, it was my grandmother, not my mother.”

* * *

“What’s Sir Edward’s opinion of your chances of winning the case?” asked the major as Virginia poured him a second gin and tonic.

“He’s a hundred percent certain we can’t lose, open-and-shut case were his exact words, and he’s convinced the jury will award me substantial damages, possibly as much as fifty thousand.”

“That’s good news,” said Fisher. “Will he be calling me as a witness?”

“No, he says he doesn’t need you, although he thinks there’s an outside chance the other side may call you. But it’s unlikely.”

“That could prove embarrassing.”

“Not if you stick to the simple line that you were my professional advisor when it came to stocks and shares, and that I didn’t show a great deal of interest in the details, as I trusted your judgement.”

“But if I were to do that, someone might suggest it was me who was trying to bring the company down.”

“If they were stupid enough to try that line of questioning, Sir Edward would remind the judge that it’s not you who’s on trial, and because you’re a Member of Parliament, Mr. Trelford would quickly back off.”

“And you say Sir Edward is certain you can’t lose?” asked Fisher, not sounding convinced.