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Authors: Jeffrey Archer

Tags: #Children of immigrants, #Children of immigrants - United States, #Westerns, #General, #Romance, #Sagas, #Fiction, #Businesswomen

The Prodigal Daughter (33 page)

BOOK: The Prodigal Daughter
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“That’s a fisk
I’m willing to take,” said Richard.

“Well, if that’s
your attitude, Kane, I shall call a full shareholders’ meeting for July
thirtieth and if you haven’t obtained your fifty-oric percent by then I will
personally see to it that you are kept out of any dealing with this bank for as
long as I am chairman.” Thomas’s tone suddenly changed from bullying to
ingratiating. “Now perhaps you might like to reconsider your position “

“When I left
your office, Mr. Thomas, I made it clear what I had in mind.

Nothing has
changed.” Richard put the phone down, opened his diary to July 30 and put a
line through the page writing across it: “Stockholders meeting, Lester’s Bank,”
with a large question mark. He received Jake Thomas’s telegram to all
stockholders that afternoon.

Every morning Richard
followed the response to his advertisement with calls to Thaddeus Cohen and
Chase Manhattan. By the end of the first week they had picked up 31 percent of
the shares, which with Richard’s 8 percent meant that they held 39 percent in
all. If Thomas had in fact started with 40 percent, it was going to be a tight
finish.

Two days after
his phone call from Jake Thomas, Richard received a detailed letter sent by
Thomas to all shareholders, advising strongly against consideration of the
offer from the Baron Group. “Your interests would be transferred into the hands
of a company which until recently was controlled by a man convicted of bribery
and corruption,” stated the final paragraph. Richard was disgusted by Jake
Thomas’s personal attack on Abel and he had never seen anything make Florentyna
so angry.

“We are going to
beat him, aren’t we?” she asked, her fingers clenched into a tight fist.

“It will be
close. I know they have over forty percent among the directors and their
friends. As of four o’clock this afternoon we have forty-one percent, so it’s a
battle for the last nineteen percent that will decide who wins on July
thirtieth.”

During the end
of the foJlowing month, Richard heard nothing from Jake Thomas, which made him
wonder if he had already captured fifty-one percent, but with only eight weeks
left until the stockholders’ meeting it was Richard’s turn to read over
breakfast a full-page advertisement that made his heartbeat hit 120. On page 37
of The Wall Street Journal Jake Thomas had made an announcement on behalf of
Lester’s. They were offerino two million shares of authorized but previously
unoffered stock to be sold for a newly set-up pension fund on behalf of the
bank’s employees.

In an interview
with the Journal’s chief reporter, Thomas explained that this was a major step
in profit sharing and the funding of retirement income that would be a model to
the nation both inside and outside the banking fraternity.

Richard swore
uncharacteristically as he left the table and walked toward the phone, leaving
his coffee to go cold.

“What did you
say?” said Florentyna.

“Balls,” fie
repeated, and passed her the paper. She read the news while Richard was
dialing.

“What does it
mean?”

“It means that
even if we do acquire fifty-one percent of the present stock, Thomas’s
authorized issue of a further two million shares, which you can be sure will be
sold only to the institutions, thus making it impossible to defeat him on July
thirtieth.”

“Is it legal?”
inquired Florentyna.

“That’s what I’m
about to find out,” said Richard.

Thaddeus Cohen
gave him an immediate reply. “It’s legal, unless you succeed in getting a judge
to stop them. I was in the process of having the necessary papers drawn up, but
I warn you, if we are not granted a preliminary injunction you will never be
chairman of Lester’s.”

During the next
twenty-four hours Richard found himself rushing in and out of lawyers’ offices
and courtrooms. He signed three affidavits and a judge in chambers heard the
case for an injunction. This was followed by a special expedited appeal in
front of a three-judge panel which, after a day of deliberation, came down two
to one in favor of holding up the share offering until the day after the
extraordinary general meeting. Richard had won the battle but not the war; when
he returned to his office the next morning, he found he still had only 46
percent of the stock needed to defeat Jake Thomas.

“He must have
the rest,” said Florentyna forlornly.

I don’t think
so,” said Richard.

“Why
not?” she asked.

“Because he
would not have bothered with that smoke screen exercise of the pension fund
shares if he already had fifty-one percent.”

“Good thinking,
Mr. Kane.”

“The truth is,”
said Richard, “that he fears we have fiftyone percent, so where is the missing
five percent?”

During the last
few days of June, Richard had to be stopped from phoning Chase Manhattan every
hour to discover if they had received any more shares. When July 15 came he had
49 percent and was acutely aware that in exactly fifteen days Thomas would be
able to issue new voting shares that would make it virtually impossible for him
ever to gain control of Lester’s. And because of the cash flow requirements of
the Baron Group, he would have to dump some of his Lester’s stock
immediately-no doubt, as Jake Thomas had predicted, at a considerable loss. He
found himself mumbling “two percent, only two percent” several times during the
day.

With only a week
to go, and with Richard finding it hard to concentrate on the new hotel fire
regulations being put into effect, Mary Preston phoned.

I don’t know a
Mary Preston,” Richard told his secretary.

“She says you
would remember her as Mary Bigelow.”

Richard smiled,
wondering what she could possibly want. He hadn’t seen her since leaving
Harvard. He picked up his phone.
“Mary, what a surprise.
Or are you only phoning to complain about bad service at one of the Baron
hotels?”

“No,
no complaints- although we once spent a night at a Baron if you can remember
that far back.”

“How could I
forget,” he said, not remembering.

“No, I was only
calling to seek your advice. Some years ago my great-uncle, Alan Lloyd, left me
three percent of Lester’s. I’ve had a letter from a Mr. Jake Thomas asking me
to pledge those shares to the board and not to deal with you.”

Richard held his
breath and could hear his heartbeat.

“Are you still
there, Richard?”

“Yes, Mary. I
was just thinking. Well, the truth is--2’

“Now don’t start
a long speech, Richard. Why don’t you and your wife come and spend a night in
Florida with my husband and me and then you can advise us.”

“Florentyna
doesn’t return from San Francisco until Sunday--2’

“Then come on
your own. I know Max would love to meet
you .

“Let me see if I
can rearrange a couple of things. I’ll call you back within the hour.”

Richard phoned
Florentyna, who told him to drop everything and go alone.

“On Monday
morning we will be able to wave good-bye to Jake Thomas once and for all.”

Richard then
informed Thaddeus Cohen of the news. He was defighted. “On my list the stock is
still under the name of Alan Lloyd.”

“Well, it’s now
in the name of Mrs. Max Preston.”

“I don’t give
‘ a
damn what her name is, just go and get it.”

Richard flew
down on Saturday afternoon and was met at the West Palm Beach airport by Mary’s
chauffeur, who drove Richard deep into the countryside.

When he first
saw the house Mary was living in he wondered how they could fill it without
about twenty children. The vast mansion stood on the side of a hill in a
thousand acres of its own land. It took eight minutes to drive from the Lion
Lodge gates to the imposing forty steps in front of the house. Mary was
standing on the top step waiting to greet him. She was dressed in a well-cut
riding outfit. Her fair hair still touched her shoulders. As Richard looked up
at her he recalled what had first attracted him more than ten years before.

The butler
whisked away Richard’s overnight bag and ushered him into a bedroom large
enough to hold a small convention. On the end of the bed was a riding outfit.

Mary and Richard
rode around the grounds before dinner and although there was no sign of Max,
she said he was expected about seven. Richard was thankful that Mary never went
beyond a canter. It had been a long time since he had ridden, and he knew he
was going to be stiff in the morning.

When they returned
to the house Richard had a bath and changed into a dark suit before going down
to the drawing room a little after seven. The butler poured him a sherry. When
Mary floated into the room in a slight off-the-shoulder evening dress the
butler handed her a large whiskey without waiting to be asked.

“I am sorry,
Richard, but Max has just phoned to say he’s been held up in Dallas and won’t
be back until late tomorrow afternoon. He will be very disappointed not to meet
you.” Before Richard could comment, she added:

“Now let’s go
and have dinner and you can explain to me why the Baron Group needs my three
percent.”

Richard took her
slowly through the story of what had happened since his father had taken over
from her great-uncle. He hardly noticed the first two courses of dinner, he
became so intent.

“So with my
three percent,” said Mary, “the bank can return safely into the hands of the
Kanes?”

“Yes,” said
Richard. “Five percent is still missing, but as we already have forty-nine
percent, you can put us over the top.”

“That’s simple
enough,” said Mary, as the souffld dish was wisked away.

“I’ll speak to
my broker on Monday and arrange everything. Let’s go and have a celebration
brandy in the library. “

“You don’t know what
a relief that will be,” said Richard, rising from his chair and following his
hostess down a long corridor.

The library
turned out to be the size of a basketball court with almost as many seats. Mary
poured Richard a coffee while the butler offered him
a
R6my Martin. She told the butler that that was all she needed for the evening
and sat down next to Richard on the sofa.

“Quite like old
times,” said Mary, edging toward him.

Richard agreed
as he came back from his daydreams of being chairman of Lester’s. He was
enjoying the brandy and hardly noticed when Mary rested her head on his
shoulder. After she had poured him a second brandy he couldn’t miss that her
hand had shifted onto his leg. He took another sip of cognac. Suddenly and
without warning she threw her arms around Richard and kissed him on the lips.
When she eventually released him, he laughed and said, “Just like old times.”
He stood up and poured himself a large black coffee. “What’s keeping Max in
DallasT

“Gas piping,”
said Mary, without much enthusiasm. Richard remained standing by the
mantelpiece.

During the next
hour he learned all about gas piping and a little about Nlax. When the clock
struck twelve he suggested it might be tirne to turn in. She made no comment,
just rose from her seat and accompanied him up the vast staircase to his room.
She walked away before he could kiss her good night.

Richard found it
hard to sleep, because his mind was a mixture of elation at having secured
Mary’s 3 percent of Lester’s and his plans for how the takeover of the bank
would be carried out %kith a minimum of disruption.

He realized
that, even as ex-chairman, Jake Thomas could still be a nuisance and was
considering ways of controlling the man’s anger at losing the takeover battle
when he heard a slight click from the bedroom door. He glanced toward it to see
the handle turning, and then the door itself pushed slowly open. Mary stood
silhouetted, wearing a see-through pink negligee.

“Are you still
awake?”

At first,
Richard lay motionless, wondering if he could get away with pretending to be
asleep. But he was aware that she might have seen him move, so he said,
sleepily, “Yes.” He was amused by the thought that this could not be a time for
thinking on his feet.

Mary padded over
to the edge of the bed and sat down. “Would you like anything?”

“A good night’s
sleep,” said Richard.

“I can think of
two ways of helping you achieve that,” said Mary, leaning forward and stroking
the back of his head. “You could take a sleeping pill, or we could make love.”

“That’s a nice
idea, but I’ve already taken the sleeping pill,” said Richard.

“It doesn’t seem
to have had the desired effect-, so perhaps we should try the second remedy,”
said Mary. She lifted the negligee over her head and allowed it to fall to the
floor. Then without another word she slipped under the covers and drew herself
close to Richard. Richard could feel that her firm figure was that of a woman
who did a lot of exercise and had had no children.

BOOK: The Prodigal Daughter
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