Laski has outlined it. The documents are satisfactory. There remains
only the larger question of whether, and under what conditions, Derek
will sell.” He sat back with the air of one who has completed a ritual.
Hamilton looked at Laski. “What are your plans for the group?” he asked.
Laski suppressed a sigh. There was no point to any kind of
cross-examination. He was quite free to tell Hamilton a pack of lies.
He did just that.
“The first step would be a large capital injection,” he said. “Then an
improvement in management services, a shake-out at top level in the
operating companies, and some streamlining in low-performance sectors.”
Nothing could have been farther from the truth, but if Hamilton wanted
to read the script from the top, Laski was happy to go along with it.
“You’ve chosen a crucial moment at which to make your offer.”
“Not really,” Laski said. “The oil well, if it happens, will be a bonus.
What I’m buying is a fundamentally sound group which is going through a
bad patch. I shall make it profitable without meddling with its
infrastructure. That happens to be my particular talent.” He smiled
selfconsciously.
“Despite my reputation, I’m interested in running real industries, not
trading in equities.”
He caught a hostile glance from Fett: the broker knew he was lying. “So
why the twelve o’clock deadline?”
“I think the price of Hamilton shares will go up unreasonably if you get
the license. This could be my last chance for some time of buying at a
sensible price.”
“Fair enough,” Hamilton said, taking the initiative away from Fett.
“But I, too, have set a deadline. How do you feel about that?”
“Quite happy,” Laski lied. In truth he was desperately worried.
Hamilton’s wish to see the money in his hand” at the time the deal was
signed, was unexpected. Laski had planned to pay a deposit today and the
balance when final contracts were exchanged. But although Hamilton’s
stipulation was eccentric, it was perfectly reasonable.
Once the letter had been signed Laski was able to trade in the shares,
either selling them or using them to raise a loan. What he planned was
to use the shares–at their oil-inflated price–to raise the money to
pay for the original purchase.
But he had fallen into the pit he had dug. He had tempted Hamilton with
a fast deal, and the old man had gone for it too well. Laski did not
know what he was going to do, for he did not have a million pounds-he
would have been scraping the barrel for the one-hundred-thousand
deposit. But he did know what he was not going to do: he would not let
this deal slip through his fingers.
“Quite happy,” he repeated.
Fett said: “Derek, perhaps now is the time you and I should have a few
minutes together–”
“I don’t think so,” Hamilton interrupted. “Unless you plan to tell me
that this deal is riddled with pitfalls?”
“Not at all.”
“In that case”–Hamilton turned to Laski–“I accept.”
Laski stood up and shook Hamilton’s hand.
The fat man was mildly embarrassed by the gesture, but it was one Laski
believed in. Men like Hamilton could always find escape clauses in a
contract, but they could not bear to renege on a handshake.
Laski said: “The funds are in the Cotton Bank of Jamaica-London branch,
of course. I imagine this presents no problem.” He drew a checkbook from
his pocket.
Fett frowned. It was a very small bank, but perfectly respectable. He
would have preferred a check drawn on a clearing bank, but he could
hardly object at this stage without seeming obstructive: Laski knew he
would feel like this.
Laski wrote the check and handed it to Hamilton. “It’s not often a man
pockets a million pounds,” he said.
Hamilton seemed to become jovial. He smiled:
“It’s not often a man spends it.” Laski said: “When I was ten years old
our rooster died, and I went with my father to market to buy a new one.
It cost the equivalent of … oh, three pounds. But my family had saved
for a year to accumulate that money. More heart searching went into the