Bloodline Sidney Sheldon

Elizabeth said, “First of all, I wish to thank all of you for coming here today.”

There were polite, meaningless murmurs in response.

She took a deep breath. “I asked you here to discuss an extension on the loans owed to you by Roffe and Sons.”

Julius Badrutt shook his head in tiny, jerky movements. “I am sorry, Miss Roffe. We have already informed—”

“I haven’t finished,” Elizabeth said. She glanced around the room. “If I were you, gentlemen, I would refuse.”

They stared at her, then looked at one another in confusion.

Elizabeth continued, “If you were concerned about the loans when my father was running this company—and he was a brilliant businessman—why would you extend them for a woman who is inexperienced in business?”

Julius Badrutt said dryly, “I think you have answered your own question, Miss Roffe. We have no intention of—”

Elizabeth said, “I haven’t finished.”

They were eyeing her more warily now. She looked at each of them in turn, making sure she had their full attention. They were Swiss bankers, admired, respected and envied by their lesser colleagues in other parts of the financial world. They were leaning forward now, listening carefully, their attitude of impatience and boredom replaced by curiosity.

“You have all known Roffe and Sons for a long time,” Elizabeth went on. “I am sure most of you knew my father and, if you did, you must have respected him.”

There were nods of agreement from some of the men.

“I imagine,” Elizabeth continued, “that you gentlemen must have choked over your morning coffee when you learned that I was taking his place here.”

One of the bankers smiled, then laughed aloud, and said, “You are quite right, Miss Roffe. I do not mean to be ungallant, but I think I am speaking for the rest of my colleagues when I say that—what were your words?—we choked over our morning coffee.”

Elizabeth smiled ingenuously. “I don’t blame you. I’m sure I would have reacted in exactly the same way.”

Another banker spoke up. “I am curious, Miss Roffe. Since we are all in agreement about the outcome of this meeting”—he spread his hands expressively—“why are we here?”

“You’re here,” Elizabeth said, “because in this room are some of the greatest bankers in the world. I can’t believe that you became so successful by looking at everything only in terms of dollars and cents. If that were true, then any of your bookkeepers could run your business for you. I am sure that there is much more to banking than that.”

“Of course there is,” another banker murmured, “but we’re businessmen, Miss Roffe, and—”

“And Roffe and Sons is a business. It’s a great business. I didn’t know how great until I sat behind my father’s desk. I had no idea how many lives this company has saved in countries all over the world. Or of the enormous contributions we’ve made to medicine. Or how many thousands of people depend on this company for their livelihood. If—”

Julius Badrutt interrupted. “That is all very commendable, but we seem to be getting off the point. I understand that it has been suggested to you that if you release the company stock, there will be more than sufficient monies to satisfy our loans.”

His first mistake, Elizabeth thought. I understand that it has been suggested to you.

The suggestion had been made in the privacy of a board of directors’ meeting, where everything was confidential. Someone at that meeting had talked. Someone who was trying to put pressure on her. She intended to find out who, but that would have to come later.

“I want to ask you a question,” Elizabeth said. “If your loans are repaid, would it matter to you where the money came from?”

Julius Badrutt studied her, his mind circling the question, looking for a trap. Finally he said, “No. Not as long as we receive the money due us.”

Elizabeth leaned forward and said earnestly, “So it doesn’t matter whether you’re paid from the sale of company stock to outsiders, or from our own financial resources. All of you know that Roffe and Sons isn’t going out of business. Not today. Not tomorrow. Not ever. All I’m asking is the courtesy of a little extra time.”