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Authors: Michael Ridpath

Tags: #Thriller, #Suspense

Trading Reality (40 page)

BOOK: Trading Reality
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I watched him go, breathing heavily. I was sure David had betrayed FairSystems to Onada. I had been right to keep him on, if only to make certain of that. But had he killed Richard? I couldn’t tell from his response. It was possible.
I slumped into my chair. A cold feeling crept over me. I had never completely trusted David, but I hadn’t really imagined that he could have been so contemptible. And if he had killed Richard . . . Then again, had he been threatening me in that last outburst?
I didn’t know.
I went to Rachel’s office. ‘We won’t be seeing much more of David,’ I said.
‘Why?’
‘I fired him.’
‘You what! Why?’
‘You were right. He had done a deal to deliver FairSystems in return for being made MD. But it was with Onada, not Jenson Computer.’ I explained all about our meeting with Onada. ‘And my guess is that Richard discovered this just before he died.’
‘Jesus!’ said Rachel. She thought it through. ‘Oh my God. Do you think he killed Richard?’
‘I don’t know. Maybe.’
‘Well, be careful, won’t you. I’ve been scared about you since you were attacked and you got that sick message. I mean, if David did kill Richard – ’
‘He wouldn’t be stupid enough to kill me as well.’
Just then Keith popped his head around the door.
‘Did you get the pictures?’ I asked.
‘Yeah. I’ll get them developed now. You should have them this evening.’
Rachel raised her eyebrows. ‘I just wondered whether anyone at the Inch Tavern would recognise our friend Yoshi,’ I explained.
‘Now that would be interesting.’ Rachel shook her head. ‘I still can’t believe David did that deal with Onada.’
‘Well, he did. And he’s gone now. And we’ll make Onada regret it, too. What do you think about this Japanese company with the new simulation manager?’
‘It’s bollocks.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘They’re bluffing. Yoshi said the simulation manager was in development, did he? If that’s the case, it could be months away from final testing. Maybe even years. If there was a Japanese company with a better product than ours ready now, we’d never hear from Onada again. And I would have picked up the rumours by now.’
‘So we hold all the cards?’
‘For a change, yes, we do. They need a simulation manager that works right away if they’re going to launch a credible product.’
‘Good,’ I said. ‘Let’s make them sweat then.’
I liked talking to Rachel. At that moment my girlfriend, my chairman, my colleagues, and my customers all seemed to be turning against me. She, at least, was an ally. Since our victory at the EGM, she had been a lot warmer towards me. Once again, I found I looked forward to talking to her. The snide comments had stopped, and she didn’t mention Karen at all. She was throwing herself wholeheartedly into saving the company, and she was enjoying it.
Kerr looked, if anything, more tired than usual. He arrived with a note-taking detective constable.
‘OK. Tell me what happened.’
I ran through what David had said to me. They wanted his exact words. As I spelled them out, it became clear that he hadn’t admitted to anything more sinister than having breakfast with Yoshi without my permission. But Kerr was grateful for the lead.
‘This will give us something new to work on. And by God we need it. Doogie Fisher’s not going to crack. In fact the harder time we give him, the more he enjoys it. The bastard likes to feel he’s persecuted.’
‘Do you think David might have killed Richard?’
Kerr gave a world-weary sigh, and stretched. ‘I don’t know,’ he said. ‘But we’ll ask the questions.’
It had been a long, tough day. I was pleased David had gone. And it was good to have my position as managing director unquestioned. But there was still a lot to be done.
I went for a pint at the Inch Tavern, taking the photo of Yoshi with me. That gave the regulars something to chat about. Once again, the friendly atmosphere did its work. I left at about ten. It was just getting dark. I walked down the hill to the little bridge over the burn.
The bridge was poorly lit, and shadows reached out across the road. I could hear the stream gurgling mysteriously under the stone arch. I looked behind me. There was no one around. The nearest house was thirty yards away, and had no lights on.
Suddenly, I felt afraid. I stopped. What was I doing here? Was I mad? I had nearly been killed at this very spot. I should have driven, or walked back to my house with someone else.
I had been drunk then; I was sober now. I could walk back to the pub and ask for an escort. No. That was ridiculous.
Someone was playing with my life. Someone had killed Richard. Someone was trying to ruin FairSystems. Someone was thinking hard about killing me.
Was it David Baker? Doogie? Someone I didn’t even know?
Whoever it was, was he going to scare the hell out of me from now on?
No, he wasn’t.
I looked across the bridge. There was almost certainly no one there. And if there was, he was hiding in the gully of the stream itself. If I walked rapidly across, I’d hear him, and I would be able to run before he reached me.
What if he had a gun?
Ridiculous. People just didn’t carry guns in Kirkhaven.
So, I took a deep breath and walked rapidly across the bridge. Nothing moved. All I heard was the sound of the sea and the burn.
If someone was trying to scare me, he was succeeding.
I had half a dozen e-mails waiting for me the next morning. Two were interesting. One was from Susan saying Steve Schwartz had called. He didn’t want me to call him back, but he wanted me to be sure to drop in to see him when I was next in London.
Intriguing.
The second was from Sorenson.
I find it incredible that David really has been involved with Onada in the manner you describe. But if he has, you are right, he has got to go.
He leaves a serious gap in management. Given his departure, I am even more worried about the solvency of the company. I have spoken with Graham Stephens who shares my concerns. So, if you can’t come up with some more funds by next Wednesday, unfortunately, I will have to appoint a receiver. I hope this won’t be necessary.

Good luck.

I sighed deeply. There was no escape. It was Thursday, and no miracle was going to happen in the next six days. I dialled my Personal Account Executive.
I told him I wanted to draw down the loan we had spoken about. Ninety thousand pounds. It would mean taking out a mortgage again on Inch Lodge. And taking the borrowing on my own house up to the limit. With my existing mortgage, it added up to a hefty monthly interest bill. I reassured him that I had more big bonuses from Harrison Brothers to come. The funds would be available within a week. The documentation I had given the bank for the original mortgage was still recent enough for him to work on.
I put the phone down and closed my eyes. I knew I was making a classic trader’s mistake. Betting everything on a trade that was going wrong.
According to Willie’s cash flows which were etched on my brain, the ninety thousand pounds would, with luck, buy another month, giving us until July’s pay day, and it might even take us into August. We were expecting some money in from two customers in the last week of June, which would help. God, I hoped the bastards paid up on time!
I was betting everything, but I didn’t mind. This had long ago ceased to be simply a large-scale trade. I was emotionally, psychologically and financially wedded to FairSystems. I would either live or die with it. And that knowledge gave me the grim thrill of the chronic gambler.
I went to Willie’s office, and got him to draw up a subordinated loan note issued by FairSystems plc to me, maturing in six months’ time. The amount was ninety thousand pounds.
‘Are you sure you want to do this?’ he asked, looking at me as though I were mad.
Well, I was mad. I nodded. He wasn’t really surprised.
Back to more immediate problems.
Onada Industries.
So, Onada were going to acquire FairSystems, were they? They thought they had all the cards, that we would flee the evil Americans and fall into their arms? Well, they were wrong.
For once in my brief career at FairSystems, I had the upper hand, and I was going to make full use of it. If I was lucky, I might find a longer term solution to FairSystems’ cash-flow problem as well. By longer term, I meant three months, rather than three weeks.
I sought out Rachel.
‘Now, you’re sure Onada don’t have any alternative to Fair-Sim 1?’
‘Not if they want to succeed in the entertainment market,’ she said. ‘And believe me, they want to do that.’
‘Good. Then help me draft a couple of faxes.’
They went to the top two electronic entertainment companies in the world: Sega and Nintendo. They mentioned that we had been in discussions with Onada, but that these had fallen through, and we were looking for another Japanese partner. I asked for an early response if either company had any interest in talking further. I wasn’t looking for anything concrete. Just enough to scare Onada. Then I called Yoshi at his London office.
‘Hello, Yoshi. It’s Mark Fairfax.’
‘Oh. Good afternoon, Mark,’ he said. He didn’t sound too pleased to hear my voice.
‘I’ve been thinking about our discussions yesterday.’
‘Yes?’ Yoshi was wary, but I detected a flicker of interest.
‘Yes. I’d like to meet early next week to discuss ways we can work together. Say Monday? Your offices?’
There was silence on the line as Yoshi thought. I didn’t break it.
‘OK. Monday morning at eleven. Here. Will it be just yourself attending?’
‘No, I’ll be bringing Rachel Walker, our technical director.’
‘OK. I’ll see you then.’
He hung up. He didn’t even ask about David Baker.
I pulled the photograph of Yoshi that Keith had taken the day before out of my briefcase. The regulars at the Inch Tavern had had no problems in identifying him as the oriental man who had had a drink with Richard the night before he’d died.
It would be interesting to see what Yoshi thought about that.
I worked very late that night, until way past midnight. The pile of papers on my desk grew faster than I could whittle it down. But they all had to be dealt with. The day-to-day operations of the company had to continue smoothly if FairSystems was going to survive. It was hard going; I was very tired.
I opened my eyes with a jolt. My computer was still whirring, and papers were strewn all over my desk. My neck was stiff. I looked at my watch; it was half past three! I had fallen asleep. I looked in dismay at the pile of work still to be done and decided there was no way I could concentrate on anything now. Time to go home to bed.
I looked in on Software on my way out. The lights were still on, and I was curious whether anyone would be working at this hour. The room was quiet and still. Through the electronic window, trees waved in the wind against a full moon. It was eerie. I could just make out Rachel’s silhouette through the blinds of her office at the far end of the room. She was sitting at her computer. I debated whether to go in and say good night, but I was just too tired, so I left.
I didn’t get in to work until ten the next morning, but even so I was still exhausted. I was just taking my first sips of black coffee, when Rachel knocked on my door.
‘Nice lie-in?’
‘I don’t know how you do it,’ I said. ‘If I work past ten at night, I’m dead the next morning.’
Rachel grinned. ‘You’re just lacking in stamina. I find it works best to take great chunks of sleep when you can. I got ten hours last night.’
I laughed. ‘You can’t fool me. I saw you.’
Rachel looked puzzled. ‘Saw me?’
‘Yes, at half past three this morning. You were still working.’
‘You were dreaming.’
‘What do you mean? I saw you. Through the blinds.’
‘But I went to bed early last night. It must have been one of the others.’ She paused, thinking. ‘I wonder what they were doing in my office?’
We went through to Software.
‘Were any of you guys working late last night?’ she asked.
There were blank looks all round.
‘Not really,’ said Andy. ‘I was last out and I left at about ten.’ Ten o’clock in the evening was early for these people.
‘You didn’t see anyone in my office?’
‘No,’ Andy shrugged.
‘You’re sure about that? There was no one else here?’
Andy held up his hands. He looked a little hurt.
‘Sorry, Andy. I wasn’t accusing you of anything. But Mark said he saw someone in my office at three o’clock last night.’
‘Well, it was no one here,’ said Andy.
Rachel gave me a worried glance. We looked into her office.
‘Has it been disturbed?’ I asked.
Rachel looked round, examining everything closely. She moved over to a computer in the corner. I recognised it as Richard’s Compaq. ‘This has been touched. I’m sure I left the keyboard on the side here. It’s now right in front of the machine. Someone was in here!’
‘Who would want to break in?’
‘Doogie!’ she exclaimed. ‘Could it have been Doogie?’
I tried hard to recall the exact shape of the silhouette, but it was difficult. I’d been very tired, and I had been expecting to see Rachel. ‘It might have been him,’ I said. ‘But quite honestly it could have been anyone.’
‘Christ!’ said Rachel. She rushed out of her door. ‘OK, everyone,’ she cried. ‘Stop what you’re doing. Doogie was in here last night. I don’t know where exactly he’s been, or what he did, but I want everyone to check their computers carefully for any viruses. And no one should transfer any files until we’ve cleared everything. No e-mails, nothing. Keith, let everybody else in the building know what’s happened. Andy, you check the servers, and the firewall.’
BOOK: Trading Reality
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