Read GoodBye Morality Page 29


  ‘I’m expecting Arthur and William Webster in a couple of hours, as well as Bernard Boucher and Rose. But I wanted to see you first.’

  Erick looked at John, surprised to find himself ahead of the queue.

  ‘I think you know what I want to discuss. You remember a while back at Cerne, we talked about my plan to establish an enterprise with you in charge? Well, the time has come to set the wheels in motion. I’d like to explain the plan in more detail, and then you can decide if you still want to be involved.’

  Erick nodded. Although nothing had been said between them about the grand plan since that early meeting, he knew John well enough to realise it was always ticking over in his fertile mind.

  ‘Let’s take it step by step,’ John went on. ‘I estimate that the whole thing could take a year or two to get off the ground. The companies which will be the foundation of the enterprise must be formed and will need bona fide trading histories.’

  ‘That will take at least a year,’ Erick confirmed.

  ‘Our Zurich bank has formed a company called Tout D’abord Industrie Society. Its chairman, George von Fritzenberg, is a close associate of mine. He’ll assist us in every way he can. The bank will place four nominee directors on the board of the new enterprise, but you will be in complete charge.’

  Erick nodded, non‑committally.

  ‘At the moment,’ John went on, ‘thirty million pounds can be invested. It is up to you to convert this into shares, government bonds, et cetera. The Zurich bank will buy the shares on your instructions. The investments must be spread widely, so that we end up with shares in a string of companies all over the world. When you’re ready, but the sooner the better, I suggest you set up a base in Mallorca. I like the island as legally it is difficult to penetrate an operation there. Very few companies use Mallorca as a business base and we can probably be left alone there, disappearing between the tourists and the Europeans who are settling there plus,’ John smiled, ‘it’s the ideal place for the yacht. Then we’ll target the first company to take over. But let’s get the wheels turning now, while you’re still at Mirage Consulting.’

  Erick sensed that, if he didn’t put a word in now, he would be railroaded. ‘We’re still talking hypothetically, I presume?’

  John smiled. ‘Of course. Hear me out then decide if it’s what you want to do. From now on, every year, I’ll put at least forty million pounds at your disposal. Besides investing that amount, you’d be able to borrow on the shares and invest the amount borrowed also. The dividends on these shares would give you further working capital. This arrangement will continue for ten years, by which time we’ll have invested more than five hundred million – plus the amount borrowed on the shares and the revenue created. Say a total of eight hundred million. On top of that, we can influence the companies we’ve taken over, to invest in shares on a similar basis.’

  Erick laid his hands on the table in a gesture of restraint. ‘All this,’ he said carefully, ‘is dependent on your committing forty million a year!’ He looked hard at John. ‘This is a massive undertaking! How can you come up with that kind of money?’

  John shook his head, smiling. ‘Erick, have you so little faith? The finance is my responsibility. Don’t forget, there’s Higginson Investments, Auto‑Trade‑Factors, the Zurich Bank of Industry and Commerce, as well as my personal business associates. Forty million a year is, I think, a realistic amount.

  ‘I want you to sit in on the rest of the meetings today, so you know that what I’m suggesting can and will happen. I expect, after ten years, to have invested a billion in fifty‑one per cent shareholdings. This should represent control over companies with total assets in excess of two billion pounds.’

  Erick was silent for a moment, his head reeling, struggling to take it all in. ‘If it happens as you say,’ he murmured at last, ‘this enterprise would represent one of the most powerful financial groups in the world.’

  ‘Of course.’ John sounded quite unfazed. ‘And that, Erick, is precisely why you’re interested. The day we amalgamate all these companies into the group of groups, you become chairman of the whole shebang.’

  Erick sat back, staring at the blandly smiling man opposite him. He knew John was not mad, but very definitely a person with an overweening ambition for power. Pure power for its own sake. He doubted there was any political ambition behind the plan.

  ‘You will be paid five hundred thousand a year tax free,’ John went on. ‘I’ll pay for a house in Mallorca and won’t interfere in your daily running decisions. The whole enterprise will be entirely your responsibility.’ He paused, then smiled. ‘I’ll also throw in L’Acquisition for your personal use.’

  ‘Finally a bribe!’ Erick joked nervously. He got up and began to pace the room. ‘And who’ll run Mirage when I leave?’ Too late, he realised he had said ‘when’, instead of ‘if’, and knew that John would not have missed the slip.

  * * *

  This was the biggest decision Erick had ever taken. He could not pretend he didn’t know where the funds for this huge enterprise would be coming from; the drugs business and the financing of serious crime. If he accepted this offer, he would be implicated in criminal activity just as serious.

  Slowly he stretched out his hand to shake John’s. ‘It’s a deal,’ he said. Subject, of course, to Andrea’s approval.’

  ‘How do you think she’ll feels about moving to Mallorca?’

  Erick looked sheepish. ‘I don’t know. I had serious trouble moving her before! But let me worry about that.’

  ‘It’s all up to Andrea then?’ John said as if he was talking to himself. Obviously such an idea had never occurred to him since Catherine’s wishes had never figured in his own plans.

  ‘Yes,’ Erick said firmly.

  ‘You put your marriage before what I’m offering?’

  ‘Yes,’ he repeated. ‘That’s just the way it is.’

  ‘It must be real love?’

  ‘I guess so,’ Erick confirmed.

  John laughed. ‘I’d never have taken you for a henpecked husband, Erick! Just wave the prospect of the yacht at her. That should do the trick!’

  ‘No, that’s not the way to go about it. But, tell me, have you spoken to Catherine yet?’ Erick countered.

  John’s face hardened. ‘She hasn’t phoned.’

  ‘I could drive down to Cerne Abbas and talk to her?’

  ‘Thanks, but no. That’s something I must do. You know, a spell in prison doesn’t worry me in the slightest. I suppose I knew it had to happen one day. What’s really crucifying me is this situation with Catherine and Michael.’

  * * *

  Arthur was the first of John’s other visitors to arrive.

  ‘A challenge? That sounds ominous,’ he said after John had explained his scheme and mentioned that Erick was considering moving to Mallorca to set up the enterprise there. ‘Your challenges usually involve high risks, John. What if something goes wrong with this new one?’

  ‘Then I’ll deal with the situation as it arises.’ John’s voice was calm, as usual. ‘Arthur, if I took every decision based on the principle that things might go wrong, I wouldn’t have got very far. I’m in a risk‑taking business. It’s my job to evaluate the odds all the time.’

  Arthur nodded. ‘Am I included in this challenge of yours?’

  John had always recognised a restlessness in his friend, a constant desire to do something new. Perhaps even Diana didn’t know this side of Arthur, he thought.

  ‘I’d prefer you to be on the sidelines, not directly involved in anything new,’ he said gently. ‘You’re the person I trust, always there with advice and sensible suggestion. You stay exactly where you are, at Black’s of Mayfair, and give Erick all the support he’ll need. I want each of our operations run separately. I think Auto‑Trade‑Factors can stand on its own and Rose should now be responsible to Bertrand Boucher, not you. Do you think she’ll be okay with that?’ She’s coming here later.’

  ‘I don
’t have much to do with her nowadays. She is a stubborn woman, proud of her own abilities, but are you aware how powerful you’re making Monsieur Boucher? I’ve only met him three times, but I can’t say I warmed to the man. All the charisma of a three‑days‑dead halibut on the slab.’

  John smiled. ‘I don’t want him for his charisma. He’s competent. Able to score goals. Serissa’s bringing in a couple of a million a week. Boucher’s got the European distribution going like clockwork. And he managed to save most of the hemp business in England by operating from Paris.’

  Arthur pursed his lips. ‘Well, that’s all that matters then, isn’t it? I still don’t have to like the man. Rose adores him, which is more to the point.’

  John smiled at his old friend. ‘Don’t worry about Bertrand. He’s our man one hundred percent. If not, I’ll see to it.’

  * * *

  Rose arrived next. Arthur greeted his sister‑in‑law, but soon said his goodbyes. Erick sat in a corner of the room, listening without commenting. He was wondering how Andrea would react to the prospect of moving to Mallorca. The kids, he thought, should be in favour. Christian, now a tall and handsome twenty years old, was largely independent and working as a management trainee in a Piccadilly Hotel. Lisette would finish school this summer, and a change of scene would probably suit her fine while she worked out what to do with her life. Which just left Andrea....

  With some difficulty he turned his attention back to John’s meeting with Rose.

  She looked older than her sister Diana. Her face harder, and more guarded, with the greying blonde hair cut short. She wore a classic beige herringbone suit, matching high‑heeled shoes and carried a businesslike briefcase. She would not have looked out of place at Mirage, he realised in surprise.

  ‘I wanted to tell you face to face,’ John said to her, ‘ I’m committing funds to a very big new investment. It’s vital that revenue from Auto‑Trade‑Factors continues to come in regularly and finances our new project.’

  ‘I see no problem,’ she replied coolly.

  ‘I’ll be using Bertrand Boucher in another capacity from now on. He’s taking over some of my responsibilities. Please make your monthly report to him from now on.’

  ‘I’m used to talking with Bertrand several times a week,’ Rose said in her cool, precise voice. ‘He’s an intelligent man and has been a brilliant consultant for Auto Trade Factors.’

  ‘From now on you are responsible for the company.’ John smiled to sugar the pill. ‘ And Rose, I have every confidence in your abilities.’

  Bertrand Boucher had become far too valuable to run only one operation. John should have promoted him some time ago.

  * * *

  Philip Higginson arrived next.

  ‘Our target figure is four million,’ he said, after asking how John was. ‘And I feel sure we’ll reach it.’

  ‘In future,’ John told him, ‘I’d like our profits, together with around 25 per cent of the clients’ funds, invested in certain publicly quoted shares. Erick will tell you which ones to buy when the time comes. I’ll leave it up to you to decide how much you think it wise to invest for each client, but I guarantee it will be worth it as a long ‑term investment. Basically, our aim is to build up a substantial shareholding in selected public companies within Higginson Investments over the next ten years, thereby supporting a new financial enterprise.’

  Philip raised his eyebrows. ‘Sounds interesting.’

  ‘If you manage it well,’ John went on, ‘I’ll change the share structure of Higginsons so that you personally have a fifteen per cent share‑stake in the firm. And it won’t cost you anything.’

  After a grinning Philip had left, William Webster arrived. Over some tea and sandwiches John told him about Bertrand Boucher’s new responsibilities.

  ‘Have you had time to check how the hemp business has survived?’

  ‘Yes, and I can only admire the way Bertrand has handled such a difficult situation. As far as I can see we will be selling for around ninety million worth of hemp this year in England alone.

  ‘So how much profit do we expect to make?’ John asked.

  ‘After deduction of expenses, wages, et cetera, I expect forty per cent of the turnover to be clear profit subject to buying prices remaining unchanged. Bertrand has increased the prices to the wholesalers, I hear, so that margin could improve considerably.’

  * * *

  Boucher arrived last. John explained Erick’s possible new role and asked for the Frenchman’s full support.

  He looked at John, then at Erick. After some time, with a slight grimace, all he said was, ‘I think it is a splendid idea.’

  ‘When William and I receive criminal convictions, it will be in everyone’s best interests for William to do something else when he comes out of prison. When you think the time’s right, Bernard, I want you to move him to the States to set up the Serissa operation over there.’

  ‘I have no problem with that,’ Bertrand said levelly.

  John realised that he had ended up with his criminal operations being run by an ex‑investigating magistrate who looked like a retired schoolteacher, behaved as if he had no feelings and seldom smiled. Nevertheless, John felt he could trust him. Boucher was a perfectionist, something he and John had in common.

  ‘Okay, please bring me up to date on what’s happening in our organisation now?’

  Boucher outlined the details of how, after the unexpected arrest of the British hemp team, he had managed to replace most of the trade by operating out of France with people he knew.

  ‘And what about Serissa?’

  ‘We handled four million units last month,’ Boucher said with a trace of pride. ‘They’re an incredible success, but I don’t know how long the craze for them will last.’

  John spent the next two hours explaining in minute detail how the various operations should be run and where the funds should be banked. Step by step Bertrand was handed more responsibility. At no point did he show any surprise, but signified his acceptance by nodding his acceptance.

  Erick said hardly anything. While listening, his thoughts went back to the days of GIANT in Denmark. Then unable to raise capital for an emerging, significant young business, now here he listened to stratospheric sums being quoted for turnover, profit and projections, coming from much simpler operations, which were shamefully criminal. This was the first time he had received such a clear insight into John’s operations and in his heart he would have preferred not to have been involved at all. John Forbes had Erick hooked and the worst of it was, he knew it and did not intend to let him wriggle out of the commitment. He knew very well the prize was too rich and alluring.

  Before leaving, John said, ‘When the case comes to the Old Bailey we expect to face only the charges relating to the hemp business. Providing Customs keep to their side of the bargain, I’m expecting a sentence of six to eight years. With parole, it will be one third of that or at the worst half and automatic parole. Unfortunately there’s still some time to wait before the case comes up at the Old Bailey.’

   

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  _________________________

  St. John’s Wood, London, Thursday, 11th February 1982

  John rang the entry phone bell to Mona’s flat.

  ‘Who is it?’ her disembodied voice said in his ear.

  ‘John.’

  There was silence, then the buzzer sounded. He pushed the door open and entered the lift.

  Mona was standing at the door to the flat. She wore a loose smock covered in paint and scuffed slippers. Her hair was uncombed and she had no make up on.

  ‘Come in.’

  ‘Thank you.’ John closed the door behind him. They stood in the hall looking at each other. Mona’s eyes suddenly filmed over and she turned her face away brusquely.

  ‘How’s the painting going?’ he asked. He could not handle her tears.

  She turned towards the living room and he followed. ‘I haven’t sold many t
his last year. I found out you’d secretly bought a lot of them, and so I lost confidence. You shouldn’t have done that. It was a very short‑sighted thing to do.’

  ‘I’m sorry. I only did it to encourage you.’

  She shrugged. ‘The police were here. I had to give them a statement about us.’

  ‘I don’t blame you for that.’

  ‘I couldn’t deny I knew you. I didn’t tell them you had given me the flat. I guess I should have done.’

  She was still beautiful, John thought, if older‑looking than he remembered. If theirs had been just a casual affair, he could have finished it quickly. But fourteen years... Did he love Mona? Reluctantly he concluded this was probably the closest he would ever come to love in his life. If Michael had not been more important to him than anyone else, John knew he could never have given her up.

  He walked round the flat, which was exactly as he’d remembered it. Mona did not move, but stared at him as if he were a stranger to her. ‘The police told me you’re a drug dealer. A career criminal. They said you coldly killed a friend who’d displeased you, that you are powerful and extremely dangerous. They said if I’d any sense, I wouldn’t have any thing more to do with you.’

  ‘I’m involved in soft drugs. The rest is nonsense,’ John said calmly. He went to pour two whiskies. ‘I think I need a drink, if you don’t mind? Hell, Mona I’m still the same person!’

  ‘What about the toy company? You took me there. I saw it.’

  ‘That’s just a front.’

  She said flatly, ‘You’re going to prison, aren’t you? Like any criminal lowlife.’

  ‘That’s the risk I run in my line of business. Listen, if I were an ordinary businessman I could go bankrupt and lose everything. You learn to live with these things.’

  She waved away the glass he held out to her. ‘Why have you come here?’

  ‘I have to win back Catherine.’

  She gasped. ‘You come to tell me that? I think you should leave now!’

  ‘Because of Michael,’ he continued, ignoring her outburst.

  ‘What about me? You haven’t given me a thought, have you? I’ve just been a plaything for you to use. Get her excited, have sex in every imaginable way, then little John can walk out full of vigour, to go on dealing in drugs and murdering people...’ Her voice was rising hysterically.