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“And what are they thinking at this moment?”

“That it couldn’t have gone better for them if they’d planned it. Not only did they get rid of you, but three of your most trusted lieutenants at the same time.”

“Three honorable men,” said Emma.

“Just like Brutus, and look where that got him.”

“I wish I’d still been in the boardroom when Admiral Summers—”

“You’re back in your Girl Guide uniform, Mother. Now snap out of it, and listen carefully. The first thing you must do is ring Admiral Summers, Bob Bingham, and Mr. Dixon, and tell them that under no circumstances are they to resign from the board.”

“But they walked out, Seb. Knowles and Mellor won’t give a damn why they did.”

“But I do give a damn, because I only care about the three votes we would sacrifice for the sake of a pointless gesture. If they were to remain on the board, with my vote, yours and Dobbs’s, we’d have six votes to their five.”

“But I won’t be in the chair again until after the trial. Have you forgotten that I stood down?”

“No, you didn’t. You just walked out of the meeting. So you can walk back in again, because if you don’t, you won’t be chairman after the trial, win or lose.”

“You’re a devious individual, Sebastian Clifton.”

“And as long as Mellor and Knowles don’t work that out, we’re still in with a chance. But first, you’ve got three calls to make. Because, believe me, Mellor and Knowles will only ever accept defeat if we win every vote.”

“Perhaps you should be chairman,” said Emma.

“All in good time, Mother. But what I need you to do now is get straight on the phone to Admiral Summers, because he’s probably already written his resignation letter. Let’s just hope he hasn’t posted it.”

Emma picked up the phone book and began flicking through the S’s.

“And if you need me for anything, I’ll be in the library making a long-distance call,” said Seb.

*   *   *

Adrian Sloane was standing in the entrance hall of Farthings Bank at five minutes to eleven. No one could remember the chairman ever coming down to meet a guest before.

Mr. Bishara’s Bentley drew up outside the bank four minutes later and a doorman rushed across to open the car’s back door. As Bishara and his two colleagues entered the building, Sloane stepped forward to greet him.

“Good morning, Mr. Bishara,” he said as they shook hands. “Welcome to your bank.”

“Thank you, Mr. Sloane. I’m sure you’ll remember Mr. Moreland, my lawyer, and Mr. Pirie, my chief accountant.”

“Of course,” said Sloane, shaking hands with both men. He then guided his guests toward a waiting lift as the staff burst into well-rehearsed applause to welcome their new president.

Bishara gave a slight bow and smiled at the three young porters who stood behind the reception desk. “That’s where I began my banking career,” he said to Sloane as he stepped into the lift.

“And now you’re about to become the owner of one of the City’s most respected financial institutions.”

“A day I have looked forward to for many years,” admitted Bishara. A statement that made Sloane feel even more confident that he could forge ahead with his change of plan.

“When we reach the executive floor we’ll go straight through to the boardroom, where the offer documents have been prepared and await your signature.”

“Thank you,” said Bishara, as he stepped out into the corridor. When he entered the boardroom, the bank’s eight directors rose as one and waited for him to take his place at the head of the table before they sat back down. A butler served Bishara with a cup of his favorite Turkish coffee, black and steaming hot, and two McVitie’s shortbread biscuits, also his favorite. Nothing had been left to chance.

Sloane took a seat at the other end of the table.

“On behalf of the board, Mr. Bishara, allow me to welcome you to Farthings Bank. With your permission, I will take you through the procedure for the exchange of ownership.”

Bishara took out his fountain pen, and placed it on the table.

“In front of you are three copies of the offer document, as approved by your lawyers. Both sides have made small emendations, but nothing of any real consequence.” Mr. Moreland nodded his agreement.

“I thought it might be helpful,” continued Sloane, “if I were to highlight the most important issues we have agreed on. You will become the president of Farthings Bank, and can nominate three directors to represent you on the board, one of whom will be appointed deputy chairman.”

Bishara smiled. They weren’t going to like who he had in mind for deputy chairman.

“I will remain as chairman for a period of five years, and the eight board members present here today will also have their contracts renewed for a further five years. And, finally, the sum agreed upon for the takeover is twenty-nine million eight hundred thousand pounds, which values each share at five pounds.”

Bishara turned to his lawyer, who handed him a banker’s draft for the full amount. He placed it on the table in front of him. The sight of it almost caused Sloane to change his mind.