PAPER MONEY by Ken Follett

then Laski would be convicted. But Peters did not even know he had given

away a secret, and nobody would think of asking him. Suppose Cox was

arrested? The British police had ways of squeezing information out of

people, even if they did not use baseball bats. Cox might say he got the

information from Laski, then they would check Laski’s movements on the

day, and they might discover he had taken coffee with Peters.

It was a pretty distant possibility. Laski was more worried about

finishing off the Hamilton deal.

The phone rang. Laski answered: “Yes?” “It’s Threadneedle Street-Mr.

Ley,” Carol said Laski tutted. “It’s probably about the Cotton Bank. Put

him on to Jones.”

“He’s been through to the Cotton Bank, and Mr. Jones has gone home.”

“Gone home? All right, I’ll take it.”

He heard Carol say: “I have Mr. Laski for you now.”

“Laski?” The voice was high-pitched, the accent an aristocratic drawl.

“Yes.”

“Ley here, Bank of England.” are you?”

“Good afternoon. Now look here, old chap” –Laski rolled his eyes at

this phrase. “you’ve made out rather a large check to Fett and Company.”

Laski paled. “My God, have they presented it already?”

“Yes, well; I rather gathered the ink was still wet. Now the thing is,

it’s drawn on the Cotton Bank, as you obviously know, and the poor

little Cotton Bank can’t cover it. Do you follow me?”

“Of course I follow you.” The bloody man was talking as if to a child.

Nothing annoyed Laski more. “Clearly, my instructions as to the

arrangements for providing these funds have not been followed. However,

perhaps I can plead that my staff might well have thought they had a

little time to spare.”

“Mmm. It’s nice, really, to have the funds ready before you sign the

damn thing, you know, just to be safe, don’t you think?”

Laski thought fast. Damn, this need not have happened if the

announcement had been made on time. And where the devil was Jones?

“You may have guessed that the check is payment for a controlling

interest in Hamilton Holdings. I should think those shares would stand

as security-” “Oh, dear me, no,” Ley . “That really wouldn’t do. The

Bank of England is not in business to finance speculation on the stock

market.”

Maybe not, Laski thought; but if the announcement had been made, and you

knew that Hamilton Holdings now had an oil well, you wouldn’t be making

this fuss. It occurred to him that perhaps they did know, and Hamilton

had not got the oil well; hence the phone call. He felt angry.

“Look, you’re a bank,” he said. “I’ll pay you the rate for

twenty-four-hour money–“

“The Bank is not accustomed to being in the money market.”

Laski raised his voice. “You know damn well I can cover that check with

ease, given a little time!

If you return it, my reputation is gone. Are you going to ruin me for

the sake of a lousy million overnight and a foolish tradition?”

Ley’s voice went very cold. “Mr. Laski, our traditions exist

specifically for the purpose of ruining people who sign checks they

cannot honor. If this draft cannot be cleared today, I shall ask the

payee to re-present. That means, in effect, that you have an hour and a

half in which to make a cash deposit of one million pounds at

Threadneedle Street. Good day.” “Damn you,” Laski said, but the line was

dead He cradled the receiver, cracking the plastic of the phone. His

mind raced. There had to be a way of raising a million instantly …

didn’t there?

His coffee had arrived while he was on the phone. He had not noticed

Carol come in. He sipped it, and made a face.

“Carol!” he shouted.

She opened the door. “Yes?”

Red-faced and trembling, he threw the delicate china cup into the metal

wastepaper basket, where it shattered noisily. He bellowed: “The bloody

coffee is cold!”

The girl turned around and fled.

TWO P.M. YOUNG BILLY JOHNSON was looking for Tony Cox, but he kept

forgetting this.

He had got out of the house quite fast after they all returned from the

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