Be Careful What You Wish For (The Clifton Chronicles 4)

“Arnold, this is Sebastian Clifton, who’s been assisting me with the Sony negotiations.”

“I’m glad to meet you, sir,” said Sebastian as they shook hands.

“I’m a huge admirer of your—”

“—my father’s books?”

“No, can’t say I’ve ever read one. Have quite enough of detectives during the day without reading about them at night.”

“My mother, then, the first woman chairman of a public company?”

“No, it’s your sister, Jessica, that I’m in awe of. What a talent,” he added, nodding toward the drawing of his father on the wall. “So what’s she up to now?”

“She’s just enrolled at the Slade in Bloomsbury, and is about to begin her first year.”

“Then I feel sorry for the other poor sods in her year.”

“Why?”

“They’ll either love her or hate her, because they’re about to discover they’re just not in her class. But back to more mundane matters,” Arnold said, turning to his father. “I’ve prepared three copies of the contract, as agreed by both parties, and once you’ve signed them, you’ll have ninety days to raise the ten million loan for a five-year period at a rate of two and a quarter percent. The quarter being your fee on the transaction. I should also mention—”

“Don’t bother,” said Cedric, “because I have a feeling we’re no longer in the running for this one.”

“But when I spoke to you last night, Pop, you sounded quite bullish.”

“Let’s just say that circumstances have changed since then, and leave it at that,” said Cedric.

“I’m sorry to hear it,” said Arnold. He gathered up the contracts, and was just about to put them back in his briefcase, when he saw it for the first time.

“I’ve never thought of you as an aesthete, Pop, but this is quite superb,” he said, carefully picking up the Japanese vase from his father’s desk. He studied the piece more closely before checking the bottom. “And by one of Japan’s national treasures, no less.”

“Not you as well,” said Cedric.

“Shoji Hamada,” said Sebastian.

“Where did you find it?”

“I didn’t,” said Cedric. “It was a gift from Mr. Morita.”

“Well, you didn’t end up completely empty-handed on this deal,” said Arnold, as they heard a tap on the door.

“Come in,” said Cedric, wondering if it just might be … the door swung open and Tom marched in. “I thought I told you to stay at the Savoy,” said the chairman.

“Not much point, sir. I was waiting outside the hotel at nine thirty, as instructed, but Mr. Morita never showed up. And him being a gentleman what’s never late, I decided to have a word with the doorman, who tipped me off that the three Japanese guests had checked out and left the hotel in a taxi just after nine.”

“I never would have thought it possible,” said Cedric. “I must be losing my touch.”

“You can’t win ’em all, Pop, as you so often remind me,” said Arnold.

“Lawyers seem to win even when they lose,” replied his father.

“Tell you what I’ll do,” said Arnold. “I’ll forgo my vast, unearned fee, in exchange for this small, insignificant bauble.”

“Get lost.”

“Then I’ll be on my way, as there’s clearly not much more I can do here.”

Arnold was placing the contracts in his Gladstone bag when the door swung open, and Mr. Morita and his two colleagues walked in, just as several church bells in the Square Mile began to chime eleven times.