This Was a Man (The Clifton Chronicles #7)(52)

‘Gentlemen,’ said Knowles, ‘as the chairman of Thomas Cook has failed to make an appearance, perhaps we should move on and decide which company should take over Mellor Travel, Sorkin International or Thomas Cook? I will now ask the company secretary to conduct the vote.’

Mr Arkwright rose slowly from his place and said, ‘Would those members of the board who wish to cast their vote in favour of Sorkin International raise their—‘

The boardroom door burst open, and three men and a woman entered the room.

‘What is the meaning of this intrusion?’ demanded Knowles, leaping to his feet. ‘This is a private board meeting and you have no right to be here.’

‘I think you’ll find we do,’ said Arnold Hardcastle, speaking first. ‘As you know, Mr Knowles, I am the legal representative of Farthings Kaufman, and I am accompanied today by Mr Sebastian Clifton, the bank’s managing director, and Mr Ray Brook, the chairman of Thomas Cook, who only received an invitation to attend this meeting earlier this morning.’

‘And the young lady?’ said Knowles, not attempting to hide his sarcasm. ‘Who invited her?’

‘She didn’t receive an invitation,’ said Hardcastle. ‘But I will leave it to Miss Mellor to explain to the board why she is here.’

Knowles collapsed back into his chair, as if floored by a heavyweight boxer.

Sebastian gave Kelly a reassuring smile. For countless hours during the past week, he had prepared his protégée for this moment. She had turned out to be a quick study. No longer shabbily dressed and with a fading black eye, the young woman standing before them displayed the confidence of someone well aware of the power she now possessed as the majority shareholder of Mellor Travel. Few would have recognized her as the same woman Sebastian had first met in Chicago only a few days earlier.

Seb had quickly discovered just how intelligent Kelly was, and once she had been released from the shackles of 1532 Taft Road, she had immediately grasped the significance of owning 51 per cent of her father’s company. By the day of the board meeting, she was more than ready to play her part in reclaiming her birthright.

Conrad Sorkin rose slowly from his place, and certainly didn’t appear intimidated. But then Seb suspected he’d been in far tighter spots than this in the past. He was staring directly at Kelly, as if daring her to open her mouth.

‘Mr Sorkin,’ she said, giving him a warm smile, ‘my name is Kelly Mellor, and I am the daughter of the late Desmond Kevin Mellor, who in his last will and testament left me all his worldly goods.’

‘Miss Mellor,’ said Sorkin, ‘I have to point out that I am still in possession of fifty-one per cent of the company’s shares, which I purchased quite legally from your father.’

‘Even if that were true, Mr Sorkin,’ said Kelly, not needing to be prompted by Seb, ‘if I repay you your ten thousand pounds before close of business today, those shares automatically revert to me.’

Hardcastle stepped forward, opened his briefcase and took out his client’s passport, Mellor’s will and a banker’s order for ￡10,000. He placed them on the table in front of Sorkin, who ignored them.

‘Before close of business today, if I may be allowed to repeat your words, Miss Mellor,’ said Sorkin. ‘And as the banks close their doors in twelve minutes’ time,’ he said, checking his watch, ‘I think you’ll find that your cheque cannot be cleared until Monday morning, by which time the contract will be null and void, and it is I who will own Mellor Travel, not you.’

‘If you take the trouble to look more closely,’ said Arnold, coming in on cue, ‘you will see that it’s not a cheque we’re presenting you with, Mr Sorkin, but a banker’s order, and therefore legal tender, which allows Miss Mellor, as her father’s heir, to claim back her rightful inheritance.’

One or two members of the board were looking distinctly uneasy.

Sorkin counter-punched immediately. ‘Clearly you are not aware, Mr Hardcastle, that I have already received the board’s approval to take over the company, as Mr Knowles will confirm.’

‘Is that correct?’ asked Seb, turning to face the chairman.

Knowles glanced nervously at Sorkin. ‘Yes, the vote has already been taken, and Sorkin International now controls Mellor Travel.’

‘Perhaps it’s time for you to leave, Mr Clifton,’ said Sorkin, ‘before you make an even bigger fool of yourself.’

Seb was about to protest, but he knew that if the board had voted in favour of Sorkin International taking over the company, he would have to abide by their decision, and although Kelly still held 51 per cent of the shares, once Sorkin had sold off the company’s assets, they would be worthless.

Arnold was placing his files back in his briefcase when a lone voice declared, ‘No vote was taken.’

Everyone turned to look at one of the directors who had not spoken until then. Sebastian recalled Mellor telling him when he’d visited him in prison that he still had one friend on the inside. ‘We were just about to take the vote when you arrived,’ said Andy Dobbs. ‘And I can assure you, Mr Clifton, I may have been the only one, but I would have thrown my support behind Thomas Cook.’

‘As would I,’ said another director.

Knowles looked desperately around the table for support, but it was clear that even his carefully selected placemen were deserting him.