This Was a Man (The Clifton Chronicles #7)(37)
‘I can see you’ve done your homework,’ said Sloane, before taking a puff on his cigar. ‘But what particular assets are you interested in, Mr Sorkin?’
‘Conrad, please. Let me make it clear that I have no interest in acquiring Mellor Travel. However, the company has forty-two travel agencies well placed in high streets throughout the UK. Those properties have a book value of less than two million pounds. But if we were to put them on the market individually, I estimate they have a real value of nearer six, possibly even seven million.’
‘But,’ interrupted Sloane, ‘if we were to dispose of our greatest asset, Mellor Travel would be little more than a shell company, unable to carry out its core business. I’m sure you’re aware that Thomas Cook has already made us an offer of two million for the company, and made it clear that they wouldn’t be sacking any staff or disposing of any of the properties.’
‘And that two million would be paid to a company that will be run by Cook’s until Desmond Mellor comes out of jail, so the best either of you could hope for is a decent redundancy package. That is why I am willing to equal Cook’s offer, but with a subtle difference. My two million will be deposited in the bank of your choice, in the city of your choice.’
‘But the Bank of England—’ began Sloane.
‘Adrian, the Bank of England is indeed a powerful body, but I can name twenty-three countries in which it has no jurisdiction, or even bilateral agreements. All you will have to do is convince your board to accept my offer, rather than Cook’s. As the company only has five directors, and one of them can’t attend board meetings, that shouldn’t prove too difficult to achieve long before Mr Mellor is released – which I understand is not imminent.’
‘You are well informed,’ said Sloane.
‘Let’s just say we have contacts in all the right places, and inside information that keeps me ahead of my rivals.’
‘If I was to accept your terms,’ said Sloane, ‘is the cash I found in my room a one per cent down payment against the two million you’re offering?’
Knowles frowned.
‘Certainly not,’ said Sorkin. ‘Consider that no more than a calling card to prove my credentials.’
Sloane drained his glass of port and waited for it to be refilled, before he said, ‘We have a board meeting in a couple of weeks’ time, Conrad, and you can be assured that I and my fellow directors will take your offer very seriously.’
The chairman of Mellor Travel leant back and relaxed for the first time, allowing himself to enjoy the port, confident he’d got the measure of Sorkin and that the two million could be treated as an opening bid. He’d already decided the figure he’d settle for, but would wait until breakfast before he made his next move.
Knowles looked disappointed, only too aware that Sloane was holding out for a larger sum. The same mistake he’d made when Hakim Bishara had bid for Farthings, and they’d ended up losing the deal. Knowles wasn’t going to allow him to make the same error a second time. After all, he considered Sorkin’s offer was more than enough, and there was no need to be greedy. Sloane’s biggest weakness.
‘I think I’ll turn in,’ Sloane said, rising slowly from his place, as he felt nothing more could be achieved that night. ‘Goodnight, Conrad. I’ll sleep on your offer. Perhaps we can talk again in the morning.’
‘I’ll look forward to that,’ said Sorkin, as Sloane made his way unsteadily towards the door. Knowles made no attempt to join him, which annoyed Sloane, but he didn’t comment.
Sloane had to hold on to the railing as he slowly descended the companionway. He was glad to see the purser waiting for him on the lower deck because he wasn’t sure he’d be able to find his way back to his cabin. Perhaps he shouldn’t have drunk so much port on top of such excellent wines. But when would he ever again be offered a third, or was it a fourth, glass of Taylor’s 24?
He stumbled as his foot touched the bottom step, and the purser quickly came to his rescue, placing an arm gently around his shoulder. Sloane swayed towards the ship’s railing and leant over the side, hoping he wouldn’t be sick, aware it would be reported back to Sorkin. After breathing in the fresh sea air he felt a little better. If he could just get back to his cabin and lie down, he was thinking, as two powerful arms circled his waist, and with one seamless movement he found himself being lifted into the air. He turned and tried to protest, only to see the purser smiling at him before unceremoniously dumping him overboard.
A moment later Sorkin appeared by the purser’s side. Neither of them spoke as the chairman of Mellor Travel disappeared below the waves for a third time.
‘How did you know he couldn’t swim?’
‘Inside information from the person who used to have your job,’ Sorkin replied. As he turned away he added, ‘You’ll find your twenty thousand in Sloane’s cabin, under the bed.’
Nash bent down and tied up one of his shoelaces, the sign that Mellor should join him.
Mellor completed two more laps of the yard before he was by his side. He didn’t need the watching screws to become suspicious.
‘Job’s done. No need to send any flowers to his funeral.’
‘Why not?’
‘He was buried at sea.’ They walked a few more yards before Nash added, ‘We’ve kept our side of the bargain, now I expect you to keep yours.’