Mightier Than the Sword (The Clifton Chronicles 5)

“Thank God for that,” said Seb, climbing back into his car.

“Just a moment, sir, we’re not quite finished. We still have a couple of forms to fill in. Your name, please, sir?”

“But I’m in a hurry,” said Seb, regretting his words the moment he’d said them.

“We’d gathered that, sir.”

“Sebastian Clifton.”

“Home address?”

When the officer had finally filled in the answer to the last question, he handed Seb a speeding ticket, saluted, and said, “Have a good day, sir, and please drive more carefully in the future.”

Sebastian glanced desperately at the little clock on the dashboard, but it faithfully recorded the correct time. In forty minutes, his mother would be calling the board meeting to order, and he couldn’t help remembering that the election of a new deputy chairman was the first item on the agenda.

* * *

Lady Virginia took her time telling Sir Edward what really happened on the first morning of the Buckingham’s maiden voyage.

“Fascinating,” he said. “But it’s not something we can use in evidence.”

“Why not? Mrs. Clifton wouldn’t be able to deny it, and then she’d have to resign as chairman of Barrington’s and we couldn’t lose the case.”

“Possibly not, but the judge would rule the evidence as inadmissible. And that’s not the only reason we couldn’t use it.”

“What more do

you need?” asked Virginia.

“A witness who wasn’t dismissed for being drunk on duty, and who clearly bears a grudge against the company, and a director who would be willing to stand in the witness box and give evidence under oath.”

“But it’s no more than the truth.”

“It may well be, but tell me, Lady Virginia, have you read Harry Clifton’s latest novel?”

“Certainly not.”

“Then be thankful that I have, because in Inspector Warwick and the Time Bomb you will find almost word for word the story you’ve just told me. And you can be sure that at least one or two members of the jury will also have read it.”

“But surely that would only strengthen our case?”

“More likely we’d be laughed out of court.”

* * *

Emma looked slowly around the table. Every director was in place except Sebastian. But never in her eleven years as chairman of Barrington’s had she failed to begin a meeting on time.

Philip Webster, the company secretary, opened proceedings by reading the minutes of the previous meeting. Far too quickly in Emma’s opinion. “Are there any matters arising from the minutes?” she asked hopefully. There were none.

“So let us move on, to item number one, the election of a deputy chairman. Desmond Mellor has been proposed by Jim Knowles and seconded by Clive Anscott. Before I call for a vote, does anyone have any questions?”

Mellor shook his head and Knowles said nothing, both well aware that Sebastian Clifton might appear at any moment. Emma stared hopefully at the admiral, but he looked as if he’d fallen asleep.

“I think we’ve all had more than enough time to consider our position,” said Anscott.

“I agree,” said Knowles. “Let’s get on with the vote.”

“Before we do so,” said Emma, “perhaps Mr. Mellor would care to address the board on why he feels he’s the right man to be deputy chairman of Barrington’s.”