A Prisoner of Birth (58 page)

"Anything else, Sir Nicholas?" asked the headwaiter.

Danny would have called for a third bottle, but Charlie Duncan had already answered all his questions. "Just the bill, thank you, Mario."

After Big Al had returned him to The Boltons, Danny went straight up to his study and took the Davenport file off the shelf. He spent the next hour making notes. Once he had written down everything of relevance that Duncan had told him, he replaced the file between Craig's and Payne's and returned to his desk.

He began to read through his attempt at a prize essay, and after only a few paragraphs his suspicions that it wouldn't be good enough to impress Professor Mori, let alone the panel of judges, were confirmed. The only good thing about the time he had spent on it was that it had occupied the endless hours of waiting before he could make his next move. He had to avoid the temptation to speed things up, which might well result in him making a fatal error.

It was several weeks before Gary Hall managed to close the two property deals in Mile End Road, without either seller becoming aware what he was up to. Like a good fisherman, Danny cast his fly with a single purpose: not to catch the minnows like Hall that hang around the surface, but to tempt the bigger fish, like Gerald Payne, to leap out of the water.

He also had to wait for Charlie Duncan to find a star for his new show before he could legitimately meet up with Davenport again. He also had to wait for—The phone rang. Danny picked it up. "That problem you mentioned," said a voice. "I believe we may have come up with a solution. We should meet." The line went dead. Danny was beginning to discover why Swiss bankers continue to hold on to the accounts of the rich who value discretion.

He picked up his pen, returned to his essay and tried to think of a more arresting opening line.
John Maynard Keynes would surely have known the popular song, "Ain't We Got Fun," with its damning line, "There's nothing surer, the rich get rich and the poor get children." He may well have speculated on its application to nations as well as individuals
. . .

"J
APANESE KNOTWEED
?"

"Yes, we believe that Japanese knotweed is the answer," said Bresson. "Although I'm bound to say that we were both puzzled by the question."

Danny made no attempt to enlighten them, as he was just beginning to learn how to play the Swiss at their own game. "And why is it the answer?" he asked.

"If Japanese knotweed is discovered on a building site, it can hold up planning permission for at least a year. Once it's been identified, experts have to be brought in to destroy the weed, and building cannot commence until the local health and safety committee have deemed the site to have passed all the necessary tests."

"So how do you get rid of Japanese knotweed?" asked Danny.

"A specialist company moves in and sets fire to the entire site. Then you have to wait another three months to make sure that every last rhizome has been removed before you can reapply for planning permission."

"That wouldn't come cheap?"

"No, it certainly doesn't come cheap for the owner of the land. We came across a classic example in Liverpool," added Segat. "The city council discovered Japanese knotweed on a thirty-acre site that had already been granted planning permission for a hundred council houses. It took more than a year to remove it at a cost of just over three hundred thousand
pounds. By the time the houses had been built, the developer was lucky to break even."

"Why is it so dangerous?" asked Danny.

"If you don't destroy it," said Bresson, "it will eat its way into the foundations of any building, even reinforced concrete, and ten years later, without warning, the whole edifice comes tumbling down, leaving you with an insurance bill that would bankrupt most companies. In Osaka, Japanese knotweed destroyed an entire apartment block, which is how it acquired its name."

"So how do I get hold of some?" asked Danny.

"Well, you certainly won't find a packet on the shelves of your local garden center," said Bresson. "However, I suspect that any company which specializes in destroying it could point you in the right direction." Bresson paused for a moment. "It would of course be illegal to plant it on someone else's land," he said, looking directly at Danny.

"But not on your own land," Danny replied, which silenced both bankers. "Have you come up with a solution for the other half of my problem?"

It was Segat who answered him. "Once again, your request was to say the least unusual, and it certainly falls into the high-risk category. However, my team feel they may have identified a piece of land in East London that fulfills all your criterion." Danny recalled Nick correcting him on the proper use of the word
criteria
, but decided not to enlighten Segat. "London, as you will be well aware," continued Segat, "is bidding to host the 2012 Olympics, with most of the major events provisionally planned to take place at Stratford in East London. Although the success or failure of the bid has not yet been decided, this has already created a large speculative market for sites in the area. Among the sites the Olympic Committee are currently considering is the venue for a velodrome, which would accommodate all the indoor cycling events. My contacts inform me that six potential sites have been identified, of which only two are likely to be on the shortlist. You are in the happy position of being able to purchase both sites, and although you would initially have to pay a heavy premium, there is still potential for a handsome profit."

"How heavy a premium?" asked Danny.

"We have valued the two sites," said Bresson, "at around a million pounds each, but both of the current owners are asking for a million and
a half. But if they were both to make the shortlist, they could end up being worth as much as six million. And if one of them turned out to be the winner, that figure could be doubled."

"But if it doesn't," said Danny, "I stand to lose three million." He paused. "I'll have to consider your report very carefully before I'm willing to risk that amount."

"You've only got a month to make up your mind," said Bresson, "because that's when the shortlist will be announced. If both of the sites are on it, you certainly wouldn't be able to pick them up at that price."

"You'll find all the material you need to help make your decision in here," added Segat, handing Danny two files.

"Thank you," said Danny. "I'll let you know what I've decided by the end of the week." Segat nodded. "Now, I'd like an update on how your negotiations with Tower Hamlets council over the Wilson garage site on Mile End Road are progressing."

"Our London lawyer had a meeting with the council's chief planning officer last week," said Segat, "to try to discover what his committee would regard as acceptable were you to apply for outline planning permission. The council has always envisaged a block of affordable flats on that piece of land, but they accept that the developer has to make a profit. They've come up with a proposal that if seventy flats were to be built on the site, one third of them would have to be classified as affordable dwellings."

"That's not mathematically possible," said Danny.

Segat smiled for the first time. "We didn't consider it wise to point out that there would have to be either sixty-nine or seventy-two flats, allowing us some room for negotiation. However, if we were to agree in principle, to their suggestion, they would sell us the plot for four hundred thousand pounds, and grant outline planning permission at the same time. On that basis, we would recommend that you accept their offer price, but try to get the council to allow you to build ninety flats. The chief planning officer felt that this would cause heated debate in the council chamber, but if we were to raise our offer to, say, five hundred thousand, he could see his way to recommending our proposal."

"If this were to be approved by the council," said Bresson, "you'd end up owning the whole site for just over a million pounds."

"If we managed to achieve that, what do you suggest should be my next move?"

"You have two choices," said Bresson. "You can either sell on to a developer, or you can build and manage the project yourself."

"I have no interest in spending the next three years on a building site," said Danny.

"In that case, once we've agreed terms and provisional planning permission has been granted, just sell the site on to the highest bidder."

"I agree that might be the wisest solution," said Segat. "And I'm confident that you will still double your investment in the short term."

"You've done well," said Danny.

"We could not have moved so swiftly," said Segat, "had it not been for your knowledge of the site and its past history."

Danny didn't react to what was clearly a fishing expedition. "Finally, perhaps you could bring me up to date on my current financial position."

"Certainly," said Bresson, extracting another file from his briefcase. "We have merged your two accounts as requested and formed three trading companies, none of them in your name. Your personal account currently stands at $55,373,871, slightly down on where it was three months ago. However, you have made several investments during that time, which should eventually show a handsome return. We have also purchased on your behalf some of the shares you identified when we last met, making a further investment of just over two million pounds—you'll find the details on page nine of your green file. Again, following your instructions, we have placed any surplus cash with triple-A institutions on the overnight currency markets, which is presently showing a year-on-year return of approximately eleven percent."

Danny decided not to comment on the difference between the 2.75 percent interest the bank had originally been paying and the 11 percent he was now accruing. "Thank you," he said. "Perhaps we could meet again in a month's time." Segat and Bresson nodded and began to gather up their files. Danny rose from his place and, aware that neither banker had any interest in small talk, accompanied them to the front door.

"I'll be back in touch," he said, "the moment I've come to a decision on those two Olympic sites."

After they had been driven away, Danny went upstairs to his study, removed Gerald Payne's file from the shelf, placed it on his desk and spent the rest of the morning transferring all the details that would assist in his plan to destroy him. If he were to purchase the two sites, he would
then need to meet Payne face to face. Had he ever heard of Japanese knotweed?

Are parents always more ambitious for their children than they are for themselves, Beth wondered as she entered the headmistress's study.

Miss Sutherland stepped forward from behind her desk and shook hands with Beth. The headmistress didn't smile as she ushered her into a chair and then reread the application form. Beth tried not to show just how nervous she was.

"Am I to understand, Miss Wilson," said the headmistress, emphasizing the word
miss
, "you are hoping that your daughter will be able to join our preschool group at St. Veronica's next term?"

"Yes, I am," replied Beth. "I think Christy would greatly benefit from the stimulus your school has to offer."

"There is no doubt that your daughter is advanced for her years," said Miss Sutherland, glancing at her entrance papers. "However, as I'm sure you will appreciate, before she can be offered a place at St. Veronica's, there are other concerns I will have to take into consideration."