Shoot First(Stone Barrington #45)(69)

Owaki rose and tried to look pleasant. “My name is Selwyn Owaki. I am a guest at your hotel next door.” He stuck out a hand, which Stone contrived not to notice.

“Please sit down, Mr. Ozaku, and tell me how I may help you.”

“It’s Owaki,” the man replied, spelling it for him.

“Ah, yes, you’re Japanese, are you?”

“I am not, sir. I am of mixed extraction.”

“Something of a mutt, eh?”

A touch of pink appeared on Owaki’s cheeks. “I have come to see you and Ms. Harmon on a business matter.”

“Oh, you know Ms. Harmon?” Stone asked.

“Not until now.”

“Meg, this is Mr. Owazu.”

“It’s Owaki. How do you do, Ms. Harmon?”

“I do very well, thank you,” Meg replied.

“I should tell you, Mr. Owachi,” Stone said, “that neither Ms. Harmon nor I are accustomed to doing business outside our offices, which are located on another continent.”

“I am aware of that,” Owaki said, “and I apologize for the inconvenience.”

“Actually, it is less of an inconvenience than an intrusion. Do you normally call on those to whom you have not been introduced and with whom you do not have an appointment, to discuss business?”

“I am sorry,” Owaki said, “but since the matter is one favorable to Ms. Harmon and rather time sensitive, I took a chance.”

“And what did you hope to achieve by taking this chance?” Stone asked.

“I wish to buy something from Ms. Harmon, and if she is not willing to sell, then, perhaps sell her something.”

“Well, what are you buying and selling, Mr. Onako? Encyclopedias? Pots and pans? Bibles, perhaps?”

Meg spoke up. “I haven’t the faintest idea what he’s talking about, Stone, do you?”

“Not a clue,” Stone replied. “Mr. Tanaka, please enlighten us.”

Owaki sighed. “I wish to buy Harmony Software,” he said, “and I am prepared to pay a rich price.”

“Perhaps you are unaware that a substantial minority of the shares of Harmony Software have already been purchased by the Steele Group, and they are not inclined to sell.”

“But you have not heard my offer.”

“That is so, but I am a member of the board of the Steele Group, and their attorney, and if you wish, I will convey your offer to its chairman, Mr. Steele.”

“I do not wish to buy the Steele Group’s shares,” Owaki said. “I wish to buy Ms. Harmon’s fifty-one percent.”

“Did you have a figure in mind?” Stone asked.

Meg raised a hand. “Stone, will you please convey to this gentleman that my shares in Harmony Software are not for sale to him?”

“Mr. Oahu,” Stone said, “Ms. Harmon’s shares are not for sale—to you.”

“Do you mean, specifically, not for sale, or not for sale to me?” Owaki asked.

“Not for sale to you,” Meg replied.

“May I ask why not?” Owaki said.

“Because . . .”

Stone raised a hand. “Let me take this one, please, Meg.”

“Of course, Stone.”

“Ms. Harmon will not sell her shares to you, Mr. Opatu, because you are a merchant of death, a murderer, and, generally speaking, devoid of any moral character.”

Owaki was bright red now. “I do not understand,” he said.

“I thought I was perfectly clear, Mr. Oleo. Now, you said you have something to sell?”

Owaki shifted in his seat and tried to recover his good humor. “I own, just a few miles from this house, twenty-five acres of land and on it, a factory building of some thirty thousand square feet, well equipped for the manufacturing of automobiles and with a highly trained staff of some three hundred people.”

“Very well, Mr. Whatsyourname,” Meg said, “I will offer you one hundred thousand pounds—no, make that dollars—for your land and factory.” She smiled. “Take it or leave it.”

Owaki’s jaw dropped. “What?”

“Would you like me to repeat my offer?” Meg asked.

“Thank you, no. I had expected to have a business discussion with you people, and—”

“And you have done so,” Stone replied. “So have we, and we are done now.” He pressed a button on the table beside him.

Owaki stood up, and he was seething. “You are about to learn that it is unwise to deal with me in such a manner.”

“Oh, we learned that several days ago,” Stone said. “It was explained to me in great detail by your Mr. Beria.”

There was a knock on the door, and the butler entered. “Mr. Olakoo has just had a telephone message,” he said. “The county fire inspectors are at his factory and wish to speak with him there at once.”

“Mr. Ozanna was just leaving,” Stone said. “Please show him the door, and tell the security people to shoot him if he tarries.”

Owaki stalked from the room and would have slammed the door behind him if the butler had not already closed it softly.

Stone and Meg burst into laughter.

“Oh, that was wonderful,” Meg said, wiping tears away.

“I think he got the message,” Stone replied, “and now he will send us a message, and in so doing, we can hope he makes a mistake. And we will do our best to be ready for him.”