A Calculated Risk, Katherine Neville [english novels for students txt] 📗

better uphill, and thought it might be to my advantage to learn first how things stood—down below on the parapet, where Lelia, Tor, and the Vagabonds would by now, presumably, be having cocktails.

But when I glanced through the slitlike window, I saw only three figures standing on the vast expanse of tile: Lawrence, and my two friends. Their voices reached me as clearly as if we were standing three feet apart.

“Baroness Daimlisch,” Lawrence was saying as Tor poured the champagne, “Dr. Tor informs me that you are the key principal in this consortium. I hope you won’t mind if I say I find it difficult to believe you’ve been in the world of high finance for long. Your expectation to receive an additional markup of thirty million for this business is quite untenable.”

“Then why did you agree to it initialement, monsieur?” asked Lelia sweetly.

“Not only is this piece of rock nearly worthless as a property,” he said, ignoring her, “but as purchasers we have no assurance we can continue forever to operate here as a tax haven. Geographically, we’re between Greek and Turkish coastal waters. If those countries chose to dispute ownership—as they did with Cyprus—we’d find ourselves in a lot of trouble.”

“And yet you wish so badly to purchase this valueless business of ours that you attempt to force us to give it to you. I hope chat you do not mind, monsieur, if I tell you that you are not very gentil.”

“In the real world, madame—the world of business and finance—being a gentleman is hardly a criterion. If you do not sign the contracts we’ve brought today—for the one million we’ve agreed to, and no more—I assure you that we shall take ungentlemanly measures to remove you and your colleagues from your positions with no further consideration. We all agreed to take a risk in this venture—but a calculated risk. And my calculations suggest we’ve risked enough by assuming those loans that financed you in the first place.”

“It’s hardly a risk,” Tor chimed in, bringing the champagne glasses from the table where he’d poured them. “Not when you plan for your bank, and all the corporations of which you men are officers, to park their assets and execute taxable contracts here, as soon as you take over.”

“It’s illegal for banks and other corporations to park reserves in tax havens,” Lawrence said coldly, “as surely you know.”

“They all do it nevertheless—as surely you know,” said Tor with a smile. “What would the board of your bank think if they knew you’d been pressing them to an illegal act from which you yourself would profit as a principal?”

“I don’t know where your information comes from, but these unfounded allegations would hardly hold up in a court of law,” snapped Lawrence.

“This isn’t a court of law, and more than one brilliant reputation has foundered on the shore of innuendo,” said Tor.

But he must have wondered—as I did—why Lawrence seemed so unconcerned about his reputation at the bank. After all, if they learned one of their key officers was a principal in a tax haven trading against the bank, wouldn’t they take steps to protect themselves first? Unless Lawrence had far more influence at the bank than I had guessed.

And then, of course, I saw the picture in its entirety—and red blood rushed up behind my eyes. He hadn’t stolen that stock from the pension fund—he owned it! This wasn’t a short-term takeover of our little island business at all; that was only the tip of the iceberg. They didn’t just want a tax haven to shelter other people’s funds—they wanted their own country. And now I knew why!

“You clearly don’t understand with whom you’re dealing,” Lawrence was saying to Tor.

“But I do!” I cried from my window in the tower, unable to control myself one second longer.

All three looked up and squinted into the sun—and I saw Tor smile.

“Ah,” he said with casual grace, “it seems our silent partner has found a tongue at last.”

“Silent partner?” said Lawrence, glancing at him.

I lifted my robes, dashed down the spiral stairs three at a time, and came out onto the parapet.

Lawrence looked at me coldly. I was certain I must be the very last person on earth he wished to see just now—but to do him credit, he didn’t show it.

“Banks, perhaps you can explain just what you think you’re doing here,” he said.

“I’d rather explain what you’re doing here, instead,” I told him, trying to control the fury in my voice. “You sons of bitches are taking over the bank!”

Tor’s head snapped around to stare at me, and Lelia put her hand to her breast. Lawrence stood there, his face an expressionless mask. His pupils were slits of icy self-containment. He set his champagne glass on the wall and pulled a packet of papers from his breast pocket.

“Indeed we are,” he told me gravely. “There’s little you can do about it at this late date—so I suggest you make the best of your situation, accept our million-dollar offer, and autograph these papers. That is—if you can figure out which among you might be empowered to sign.”

“Perhaps someone can fill me in, first, on just what’s happening?” suggested Tor.

“They must have been planning this deal for ages,” I told him. “They own hundreds of millions in bank stock—maybe bought on margin at fifty cents on the dollar—but bought by them with their own money. As soon as they own this island—which we’ve conveniently provided for them—they can incorporate a parent company here, under their own laws, transfer that bank stock to this company—and have it take over the Bank of the World!”

“A fairly accurate summary,” Lawrence agreed, still holding the contracts between his fingers. “We’d planned to incorporate in Liechtenstein or Luxembourg or Malta—or wherever—until this opportunity arose. But we’ve spent time and money enough; I believe it’s time to wrap things up. You see, nothing you do can really stop us now. Essentially, we own this island and the bank as well.”

He