Sila's Fortune (29 page)

‘There was no attack, it was an accident. And the purpose of this loan is precisely to return to previous extraction rates.'

Lev's expression did not change. It bore that same indifference as though he were arguing with obstinate farmers
grumbling about paying their rent. In fact, he was worried that he had not yet heard the word ‘loan' pass Shane's lips.

‘The company is sound,' interrupted the chief financial officer. ‘The accounts are healthy; the current situation is the result of a temporary slowdown in the Russian economy.'

Shane did not even deign to look at the man. Leaning on the table, arms folded, he addressed only Lev.

‘We need guarantees. We need your assets as collateral. ELK is virtually bankrupt, but you are still a rich man, Mr Kravchenko.'

Lev did not react. Shane fell silent for a moment. He considered the man sitting opposite him. Having constantly striven for success, sacrificed his life for his career, eliminated his opponents one by one, Shane despised this Russian, the wealth he had amassed, the pleasure he had experienced, the women he had known. Zadie had talked to him about the oligarch's London parties and the attorney had been appalled as though by some crime. He didn't know Lev, he imagined him. And even if what he imagined was nothing like the real Lev, only ruin seemed a fitting reward for his actions.

‘We want a claim on ELK.'

Lev did not react.

‘We want mortgages totalling thirty million dollars on your London house, ten million on your chalet in Gstaad, fifty million on your palace in Moscow. On your summer house on the Black Sea, a total of seven million. On your villa in Cannes, twenty million.'

He reeled off the amounts in a peremptory tone.

‘And why do you need two thirty-five-million-dollar jets?'
he added. ‘Or your twenty-million-dollar yacht? You don't need these things. No one needs such luxuries.'

Zadie glanced at Shane. This was nothing. The real announcement was to come. At this moment, she admired Lev's calm. He did not react. She had seen so many men in this situation lose it, seen them stammer, sweat, blush, sometimes even break down in tears, that the Russian's perfect composure seemed exceptional.

In fact, Lev was filled with a cold anger. Brimming with such rage that he wanted to hurl himself at the attorney and crush him. But he controlled himself, because his whole life was at stake here today, because he needed this money, because he had no choice. Bolt upright, vaguely contemptuous, he looked like a man listening to someone talking nonsense. He had expected a negotiation; all that was being offered was an ultimatum.

‘Without going into considerations of the utility of luxuries,' said Zadie with a smile intended to calm things down, ‘I would like to point out that lending is not part of Kelmann's core business. Consequently, though such guarantees are necessary, they are not in themselves sufficient.'

Lev blanched with rage.

‘You want to take the bread out of my mouth, is that it? I don't have much else, you know.'

‘On the contrary, on the contrary, Mr Kravchenko. We are thinking only of the best interests of ELK.'

‘And your own, I assume,' said Lev.

‘Our interests are your interests. The best solution for ELK is not a loan, which would probably be insufficient and which is extremely risky, since you could lose all your assets.'

Zadie left a dramatic pause, then went on: ‘An IPO – a stock market flotation – is the only way to increase your assets and attract investors.'

There was no answer. The chief financial officer stifled a sigh and flushed scarlet. Lev gave him a disdainful look, then stared at Zadie, who held his gaze for a moment, then lowered her eyes.

‘There are other banks, you know,' he said.

‘Feel free,' Shane interrupted with a triumphant smile. ‘No one will lend you a red cent. The merchant banks would propose the same solution; as for the others, they're not going to get involved in such a risky venture. And our team is the only one with the influence to successfully float ELK on the stock market. An independent expert will evaluate your assets, oilfields, drilling rights. He could also put a price on the portfolio of commodity derivatives we sold you.'

Lev remembered that his chief financial officer, probably to get into Kelmann's good books, had indeed bought structured products he didn't understand. For hedging purposes, allegedly … More likely it was speculation.

‘Assuming the parameters are favourable,' Shane went on, ‘the portfolio could represent as much as a third of the total value of your company. The expert evaluating your assets will be the best in the business. And we can guarantee both the quality of his evaluation and his favourable consideration of your case. Once the issue price has been fixed, I can assure you, ELK will be the talk of the markets. Money will come flooding in.'

Lev weighed up the situation. Shane was right. No bank would lend him the money. The offer to discuss a loan had
simply been a lure. As always, Kelmann would make its money on the IPO. Teams of financial experts and corporate lawyers would get to work racking up billable hours.

He got to his feet.

‘I'll leave you to sort out the details with my lawyer.'

He left without saying goodbye.

‘He held up pretty well,' said Zadie.

The attorney looked at her without a word. He had won, his victory had been total, yet his prey had got away; the man hadn't so much as quavered.

‘I hope he chokes on his money! He'll be back to us begging, I'm telling you, and he'll wind up in the gutter. What we're giving him is just a band-aid.'

Shane moved away to talk to the lawyers.

‘For a man on his knees,' Simon said admiringly, ‘he stood up to us pretty well.'

Alone in the corridor, Lev was shaking. But he composed himself. The money from a stock market flotation meant he would be able to save ELK and afterwards he'd be stronger than ever. As always, the crisis would be a bloodletting, only the strongest would survive and they would have a stranglehold over the market. All the smaller companies would die and he would profit, he would make back his lost billions and come back to this same boardroom to meet with this man and give him a piece of his mind. But in the next couple of months, he needed to save his skin.

On the forecourt outside the Kelmann building, his bodyguard posted behind him, Lev took a deep breath. He closed his eyes.
When he opened them again, he saw a woman looking at him as she walked past. It was Jane Hilland, who, having spent an hour window-shopping on Fifth Avenue, was heading for the restaurant where she was to meet up with Matt and Simon. Knowing he had been in a meeting with the oligarch, she assumed Simon was already waiting for her. From the state of the Russian man, the meeting had clearly been tough.

And yet as she walked into the pleasant, understated restaurant she did not see Simon. She wandered through the dining room but he had not arrived yet. She found a seat, ordered a drink and read a newspaper. After some minutes, she heard a voice say: ‘I believe we've met before.'

Matt was standing in front of her. Since they had been on the same flight, she assumed his comment was intended as a joke and gave him a polite smile.

‘Oh, hi. You're here.' Her voice was flat.

‘Yep. Almost on time,' said Matt.

‘Please, have a seat.' Her tone belied the words.

‘Simon not here yet?'

‘Well spotted,' said Jane.

Matt did not reply. He was in his element. Sitting at a table with a girl, everything seemed possible.

‘Good choice, this restaurant.'

‘Sorry, I'm just finishing this article.'

Matt looked her up and down. He found her ugly and sophisticated. He loathed her and that excited him.

‘Is it earth-shattering, this article?'

‘No, it's stupid. But stupidity has its attractions.'

Matt felt awkward with Jane because everything about her
seemed settled and established. Nothing unnerved her; the way she looked, from her clothes to her make-up, was flawless and meticulous; her reactions were perfectly controlled and the way she spoke – the imperious, loathsome way she spoke – typified all the elements of her control: efficient, precise, peremptory.

But Matt knew his own strengths, and he knew too that Jane had been too rude with him at their first meeting to be completely indifferent. So he set to work.

He told her about his evening. She looked bored. He was funny. She condescended to make a comment or two. He mocked himself. A spark of interest flared.

She found him affected, pathetic, infantile. The designer stubble, the playboy posturing, the veneer of confidence concealing a chasm of self-doubt seemed to her ridiculous. She was astonished: how could Simon be friends with this man? But she had to admit he was quite funny.

‘What hotel are you staying at again?' she interrupted.

‘Hotel? That's an overstatement. I can't afford a hotel. No, it's more a hovel. My job is to hunt down the cockroaches. It is a task to which I apply myself with my innate sense of duty.'

He gave her an obsequious look, his shoulders sagging, palms turned upwards. Jane smiled – a genuine smile this time. Matt knew he was on the right track. Don't try to be clever, successful, dazzling: she wouldn't buy that for a minute. The poor self-mocking schmuck, that was the role he needed to play. It was just one more mask, and one all the easier for him to wear given his actual circumstances.

His face was transformed. The hint of brutality, of arrogance
that sometimes hardened his features disappeared. He was just a nice guy.

He asked her about herself, about where she grew up. He led her further and further back into the innermost recesses of childhood, of pleasure, of nostalgia. Matt knew his subject. Exploit flaws, this was his role, his talent. Nosing into places where he would not be rejected, where there were no defences. Jane was a little surprised to find herself telling him about a horse she had loved when she was ten years old. She would groom and curry-comb it, and was the only one to ride the horse. Sometimes, without her father knowing, she liked to sleep next to it in the straw, in the warmth.

He asked her about her father. He was coming close to the heart of the matter, to the complex mix of admiration and resentment she felt for this man who had never really taken an interest in her, who spent all his time at work or with his mistresses. And now she could not help but lose her perfect control, could not help but be taken like all the others, so completely did Matt seem to understand her heart, the mixture of love, of fear, of bitterness, dark feelings that he himself had been plagued by all his life. To his surprise, he realised that beneath her cold exterior Jane was weaker than most women, that deep down she yearned to surrender. Her expression changed too. Behind the self-control, behind the make-up, behind the adult, the traits of childhood and adolescence began to appear. He rolled back the years. Working brilliantly and effortlessly, a skilled manipulator.

A voice called them back from this childhood, an unpleasant croak. It was Simon. He took off his coat and sat down.

‘Sorry, the meeting went on longer than expected.'

Jane and Matt fell silent. What was he talking about? They had to give up the landscapes of the past. With some difficulty, Jane came back to the present.

‘I ran into Kravchenko. He looked upset.'

‘He's got good reason. We insisted he put all his assets up as collateral. And float ELK on the stock market. We took everything down to his underpants. So his balls are hanging out.'

Simon was ineptly trying to play the hard-nosed banker.

‘Why did you have to stay behind? Kravchenko had left.'

‘He was the only one to leave. Everyone else stayed. Including his CFO and his attorney. There were a lot of details to sort out. I'll be working with a specialist on the structured products we sold ELK to prepare everything for the IPO. It's a huge task … and a serious sign of confidence. Sorry to keep you waiting.'

‘Kravchenko's lost everything?' Jane asked.

‘Why are you so interested?' Simon teased.

‘I find ruin is always interesting.'

Simon shrugged.

‘I don't know if he's lost everything. To be honest, I think he'll survive. He'll find investors. He's tough, he impressed us all, even Shane, one of the partners, who hates his guts. You know how hard it is to impress Zadie, well, she was completely shaken up. Kravchenko didn't turn a hair. We told him we were taking his fortune and his assets and he just treated us like servants. Then again, his debts are colossal and he has powerful enemies in Russia.'

‘Well, it just means one less Russian, which can't be bad,' said Matt.

‘You remember that dinner we had at Lemerre's place where the waiter was punched?'

‘What's the connection?'

‘The Russian guy that night, it was Kravchenko.'

‘Really? In that case, I'm even happier he's bankrupt. The pampered oligarch is having to beg for his survival now. I remember the woman who was with him. She had class.'

‘Elena Kravchenko, she's a well-known academic. They're separated and she's suing him for half his fortune – though we've got every rouble earmarked as collateral. He's with some prostitute who demands extortionate amounts of money. Everyone's bleeding him dry.'

‘How do you know all this stuff?' asked Matt.

‘Bankers probe hearts and minds,' interjected Jane.

Matt felt a twinge of jealousy. Even this was slipping away from him. His insight into others. Into their secrets. The area where he felt most comfortable. And the person with the edge was the autistic Simon. The guy hiding behind his numbers and his hang-ups.

‘But why do you want to destroy Kravchenko?' asked Matt.

Simon looked surprised.

‘We don't want to destroy him. The bank just needs assurances, that's all.'