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  Henry hesitated. He did not know her that well and yet he had made the impulsive decision to rely on her to find a defence lawyer in what was rapidly becoming a turning point in his life.

  “Actually Nancy, I may need a bit more than just help with the flat.”

  “Are you referring to my previous expertise as Queen’s Counsel,” she said, in amusement.

  A door had opened, Henry rushed headlong through it. He summarised as best he could the events of the day.

  “I am on my way. You do not say or do anything until I have arrived,” ordered Nancy.

  “I certainly won’t,” replied Henry, hoping his voice did not betray his gratefulness.

  “These bad boys never change.”

  As the phone went dead Henry wondered whether he had heard the last remark correctly. He managed a smile, she would be an unusual ally.

  * * *

  James was speaking to one of the option traders when Ted entered the trading floor. Ted rushed into his office and closed the door. He looked pale even from afar. James hovered, speaking to some of the people he knew well. Everyone had a story to tell, the market was diabolical. Ted left his office again and walked quickly towards the gents. James suspected that Ted’s rush had little to do with a bad curry but rather a discussion with McCarthy. After all, James had been part of the Intelligence Corps during his stint in the army. He had learned to read the signs. Ted’s PA had just disappeared with a wad of documents, James noticed. She would be busy for a while. There was an opportunity.

  James dialled his PA’s mobile. “Morag, I am sending you a text.” Morag knew the drill, a text when James was only a few paces away meant something important was afoot.

  Create a diversion for Ted, I need five minutes after he gets out of the gents. Text me when he is on his way.

  Morag stood up and James knew she had understood.

  James casually entered Ted’s office and closed the blinds of its bay window. He moved swiftly to Ted’s desk. He was in luck – the PC had not yet gone into sleep mode. Ted’s working documents were open for scrutiny.

  James shook his head. What a cretin. He sat down and inspected the files. Ted was working on the P&L reports of Henry’s team but also and more surprisingly Albert’s.

  “Motherfucker. What the hell are you up to?” murmured James.

  James had worked on the P&L figures with Henry. He knew them by heart. He would spot any changes. Yet, the task of amending these papers was not straightforward. Part of the text in the report had to be modified but more importantly so had the figures. Such a change would be more problematic. The final numbers referring to the P&L of the Crowne and Albert teams came from data prepared by the finance departments of their respective banks. James flicked through the screens and consulted his watch, only three minutes to go. Audited figures of the past years were difficult, if not impossible, to amend.

  “Bastard. You’re going to change the current year and projected figures aren’t you? Much easier than the audited,” exclaimed James.

  Only two minutes to go. James pressed the print button and paper started to spew out of the printer in Ted’s office. He was about to get up when he spotted a yellow Post-it. Andy Todd from Scotland Yard asking for you, it’s about who you know. Henry? Was Ted truly about to commit the unthinkable?

  Only one minute to go. His mobile flashed – a message from Morag. He grabbed the documents on the printer, stuffed them into his shirt, opened the blinds again and got out. Everybody was too busy salvaging their job to have noticed him.

  James walked back with no rush to his desk.

  “Well done,” he said to Morag. She simply smiled. Ted had entered his office and closed the door. James waited a few more minutes before disappearing into Henry’s office. He needed to take a look at Ted’s reworked numbers. The police were looking at gathering evidence, anything that could provide a motive. James pondered on what this all meant. Ted is working under orders, McCarthy’s? ... Got to be.

  But how could he get away with such falsification? Once the documents had been sent to the police there was no turning back. James concentrated on what was lying on the desk in front of him.

  The first document showed deliberations about the merit of both candidates, the profile of the teams together with previous, current and projected income figures. The second document showed tables of figures and had been used to feed into the first one. These documents were sensitive, disclosing insider information. They were kept in a separate drive, which only a small number of people had access to, including Ted and the other four senior members of the integration committee.

  “So, Ted has been granted the IT privilege to go into Henry’s drive as well as Anthony Albert’s,” muttered James, incredulous. “This is bloody unbelievable.”

  Ted would have to open the original documents and make the required changes without arousing suspicion.

  “But the system logs any amendments made with names, dates and time of changes. The log would therefore show that Ted, had made some modifications. It would not show where. Mmmm. Maybe the little arsehole has not thought about that.” This cheered up James until he noticed a note left at the end of the document.

  Documents printed and sent to Scotland Yard re Henry Crowne enquiry.

  “Shit, shit,” said James through greeted teeth. “Ted has left a note on the docs so that people think he has only sent them but not amended them.” A very valid move if questions were asked as to why he opened these reports. All Ted had to do was to make the modifications of text and figures after he had called Scotland Yard and all would look above board.

  Henry’s face, laughing at one of Ted’s jokes, flashed in front of James. He flicked through the documents again. A sudden urge to go in and savage the little git grabbed James, but no.

  You want to play with the big boys, fine. Let’s see how far you go. James took out the USB key that never left his trouser pocket. Opened the relevant original files and saved them onto it. He would disclose these when the time had come. Revenge was a dish best served cold.

  * * *

  Cindy knocked at the door of McCarthy’s office and entered without waiting for a reply. She had a way of banging on the door which meant matters were urgent. David Cooper-James, CEO of HXBK, had called again. Cindy had gained time by inventing a call from Whitehall but it wouldn’t be long until he called back.

  McCarthy smiled, revealing that he had been a handsome man, before the City had claimed its price.

  “Well done, the pompous arsehole must have been impressed. I am ready to talk to him, wait another half hour and call him back and don’t make it easy to find a slot.”

  McCarthy was preparing his strategy and indeed would make a call to his contact at Whitehall. He left his office and started towards the lift. The place was silent with activity. The floor was reserved for the members of the executive Board as well as their PAs. Most of them were in meetings frantically preparing for the imminent takeover. DMac took the elevator to floor four, which was dedicated to Mergers & Acquisitions. He needed to find a meeting room the phone lines of which would not be recorded as was the case on the trading floor. He also did not want to leave a trace – dialling from his office or his mobile was out of the question. He turned the corner, ignoring the glances from a couple of employees who recognised him. One of the rooms was empty. He dashed in, pulled the blinds shut and flicked the sign to occupied on the door. McCarthy looked at his watch, it was 11am. Exactly the right time to call his contact for an update. He swiftly dialled the number he knew by heart.

  “Douglas,” exclaimed a voice. “How timely of you to call, I believe we must catch up.”

  “I could not agree more,” replied McCarthy.

  “Well, how about this evening at the club? There will be a couple of people joining us, Timothy from the Treasury and Edwina from the Bank of England. Shall we say 6.30?”

  “Very well, I will see you there.”

  “Good, good. Oh, by the way, since I hav
e you on the phone, do you need anything done on the slight issue you are facing at the moment? Such an unfortunate affair.”

  “Crowne – it is under control, at least so far, but we need to discuss some of the ramifications.”

  “Certainly, I’ll make sure we have time.”

  McCarthy walked back to his office by the back door, climbing four flights of stairs without taking a break and finding that his stamina was still very much with him. He was now ready for a particularly demanding task, a meeting with his rival, the CEO of HXBK.

  * * *

  Henry had sent a short text to James twenty-four hours ago, asking him to look after the shop. Since then nothing.

  Unusual, worryingly so.

  James noticed Ted coming back from the executive floor where McCarthy sat. He must have been reporting to McCarthy that the task of amending the P&L had been completed. James still found it hard to believe but the evidence was there, securely locked in his desk.

  The words of Gordon Gekko in Wall Street still rang true after all these years: “If you need a friend, get a dog”. A pitbull would have been better than a friend like Ted.

  James was right. It was war. It was war every day, without the much-needed camaraderie expected between brothers-in-arms. James’ experience of the army was that of harshness and bullying. He felt these were just as present in the banking world if only more subtly evident. The City was feudal. People formed clans, allegiances, in order to protect their positions; a small cluster of people looking after each other’s interests, come what may. It was not unusual for these clans to move together. The leader of a team would be headhunted and would inevitably, either immediately or over time, bring across his own people. This generated seismic shock waves for the unfortunate employees whose boss might have been replaced. Some survived, most didn’t. Everyone in the square mile would have a view on the amount of money that might have been paid to move the new team. Numbers would be running high, reaching in some cases into tens of millions of dollars. Would the team work in their new environment? The gossip would carry on for months. Despite wanting to establish its reputation as a place of strong intellect, the City was a place of tawdry gossip where reputations and abilities were constantly trashed by competitors who sought to undermine their adversaries at every possible opportunity.

  James tried Henry’s BlackBerry one more time. He was sitting in Henry’s office, playing with his pen, swinging it across the back of his hand, round his thumb and catching it again before it fell. A trick he had learned from his boss, he smiled at the thought. James lifted his head. Someone was watching him. Matt had been observing him and stood up abruptly to mask his distraction. Lack of information was quickly destabilising the group. The usual banter had stopped and people had become unexpectedly quiet, even guarded. Morag herself, Henry’s PA, who took no prisoners when it came to nonsense was subdued. Henry needed to be back soon, or at least to communicate. Henry had to know that the team would not hold together for much longer, and as importantly he needed to know about the P&L but Henry’s BlackBerry rang engaged, the mailbox was full.

  Chapter Nine

  Nancy had not bothered to change when she arrived at Scotland Yard. She was still wearing her old faded jeans and gardening T-shirt as she walked into the interrogation room. Henry had not been expecting her in person. He had wanted a professional reference. Both men looked at each other in disbelief. Pole could hardly contain his amusement, whereas Henry looked momentarily horrified.

  “I believe you intend to interrogate my client again,” said Nancy without greeting Henry.

  “That is the idea,” replied Pole.

  “May I remind you, Inspector, that you started questioning my client twenty-four hours ago and collected him from his flat ten hours ago, without proper representation.”

  “Your client, Ms Wu, was very willing.”

  “Understood,” said Nancy lifting her hand to stop Pole continuing. “But unless you can show more than circumstantial evidence, my client and I will be leaving you to your conjecture.”

  “Are you still practising, Ms Wu?” said Pole squaring up for an argument.

  “Sir, I have done enough criminal law in my time to know what I can and can’t do. To answer your question, yes, I still belong to chambers.” This was not exactly an answer but it would do for the time being. “I need some time with my client, now, if you will.”

  Pole had not expected anything less from a decent barrister. He and Nurani withdrew, leaving Henry and Nancy alone in the room.

  “Don’t worry,” she said, laying her hand on Henry’s shoulder in an appeasing fashion. “I will find someone for you. What matters, now, is that you say nothing and you get out of here.”

  Henry shook his head, uttering a relieved, “Thank you.”

  * * *

  “So, Andy, ready for your big conf call?” said Pole.

  “Yes Boss, ready to go.”

  “OK, put us on the loudspeaker. I won’t say anything but will be there in case you need me.”

  Andy grinned and released the mute button.

  “GL, Ted Barnes’ office.”

  “This is Andy Todd from Scotland Yard, he is expecting my call.” If there was to be no courtesy, Andy was going along with it. Pole was impressed.

  “Mr Barnes, Andy Todd. Many thanks for sending me the information I requested. I have a few questions if I may.” Pole gave Andy the thumbs up.

  “Certainly, Andy, shoot,” replied Ted.

  Pole narrowed his eyes. His face said it all, this conceited little git was too clever for his own good. Young Andy gave him a nod. Ted’s elation did not last long. Young Andy started to ask searching questions, on the process of integration, the documents required, the people involved, demonstrating that he had been well trained in the art of extracting information. Pole pressed the mute button whilst Ted was trying to answer as best he could.

  “Make him feel like the interrogation room is around the corner.”

  Andy depressed mute.

  “Mr Barnes, I am still a little confused on processes. Surely you can’t arrive at these conclusions without consulting the heads of team and yet it seems neither Mr Crowne nor Mr Albert have been heard. Maybe you should come to our offices and we could discuss more extensively.”

  Pole mouthed Brilliant without a sound. Andy was on a roll.

  “No, no. No need,” blurted Ted. “Why don’t I send you some more docs and you can decide whether this is what you are looking for?”

  “Good idea, it will save us both time, for now.”

  Pole had detected Ted’s uneasiness. He was fearful.

  “You realise I will have to run all this past my ’gators,” said Ted trying to assert himself by mentioning GL’s legal team of litigators.

  “Of course, I have cleared this call with them already, but be my guest.”

  Young Andy scored another point as Ted had not asked whether Andy had cleared it, before speaking to him. Pole signalled to Andy to hang up. He did with minimal courtesy.

  “Well done, Andy. This guy is not telling us all he knows.”

  “And he is scared out of his wits. I’ll chase him in a few hours. Can’t let him think I don’t mean business.”

  “You mean business all right, keep up the pressure,” said Pole, with a kind shake of Andy’s shoulder.

  * * *

  James had been observing Ted’s moves in and out of his office. Ted had come back and yet again promptly closed the door of his office behind him. James thought about the defrauded P&L. But now was not the time to give Ted a bloody nose, further intel gathering was needed. By now Henry’s future must have been discussed extensively and the revised number would not help. James walked decisively across the floor and knocked at the glass partitioning of Ted’s office. Ted jumped and looked up.

  “Hey Ted, what’s up?” said James as he opened Ted’s office door.

  “Busy, good. You know …”

  “I was wondering whether you’d heard
from Henry. Can’t get hold of him.”

  “What do you mean?” demanded Ted abruptly, fidgeting with his Montblanc pen.

  “Nothing more than that Ted. I can’t get hold of him.”

  James had sat himself in front of Ted’s desk in one of the leather chairs, attitude relaxed and mind alert.

  “Well, I haven’t either, sorry but I’ve got tons to do, you know.” Ted gestured vaguely.

  “Sure, sure. Well, if you hear anything let me know. How is the integration committee going anyway?” asked James boldly.

  “What do you mean? I can’t talk about it as you well know,” said Ted with disdain.

  “Of course, you can’t give the specifics but surely an indication. Our P&L results have been bloody good despite the crisis,” said James.

  “What? What do you mean? How do you know?” replied Ted, on the verge of losing his cool. James had scored better than he thought.

  “No worries,” replied James as he slowly stood up.

  James took his time to leave his office. He stopped to chat with one of the traders, a burly chap with a large paunch – a little too much beer with the lads. James kept looking in the direction of Ted’s office. Ted was speaking to his PA, no doubt instructing her to let no one in before closing his door again. James had seen fear in men’s eyes so many times; Ted was terrified.

  Henry was in deep trouble and the firm was about to cut him loose. James pondered over the expression ‘cutting loose’, a mountaineering term, the last man on the rope may have to be cut loose if his weight became a danger to the team of climbers above. An extreme act of last resort in the close-knit community of climbers, alas a technique frequently used in banking and Henry was its latest victim.

  * * *

  Nancy and Henry were alone. She was sitting opposite him, her dark brown eyes resting on him with a sense of calm and something Henry had not felt for a long time.

  Kindness.“So, Nancy what is the game plan?”

  “As I said, you need to get out of here first, then we decide on strategy. We’ll discuss it in the privacy of my pad.”