“A woman called Dr. Rosemary Wolfe, phoning from the States. Said you’d know who she was.”

“I most certainly do. Did she leave any message?”

“No, just a number, 202 555 0319. But, Seb, don’t forget, they’re five hours behind us, so it’s only three in the morning in Washington.”

“Thanks, Rachel. Got to dash or I’ll be late for the Barrington’s board meeting.”

*   *   *

Jim Knowles joined Desmond Mellor for breakfast at the Avon Gorge Hotel.

“It’s going to be close,” said Knowles as he sat down opposite Mellor, who stopped speaking while a waitress poured him a coffee. “My latest calculation is five votes each.”

“Who’s changed their mind since yesterday?” asked Mellor.

“Carrick. I convinced him of the importance of having a deputy chairman in place while Mrs. Clifton is tied up in a trial that could last for a month, perhaps even longer.”

“Is her vote included in the five?”

“No, because I’m fairly sure she’ll abstain.”

“I wouldn’t, if I were in her position. And if we win the first vote, what about the second?”

“The second should be easier, as long as you stick to the line that you think it will be for no more than a month. Even the waverers should go along with that.”

“A month will be more than enough to make sure she never returns.”

“But if she loses the trial, it all becomes academic, because then she’ll have to resign. Either way, my bet is you’ll be chairman a month from today.”

“In which case, Jim, you’ll be my deputy.”

“Any news from Virginia on how her case is shaping up?” asked Knowles.

“She rang me yesterday evening. Apparently her barrister has assured her that she can’t possibly lose.”

“I’ve never known a barrister say that before,” said Knowles, “especially when Alex Fisher might be called as a witness, because I can tell you from past experience, he’s not good under fire.”

“Virginia tells me that Sir Edward doesn’t intend to call him.”

“Rather proving my point. But once she’s won the case, everything should fall neatly into place. That’s assuming you’ve paid Arnold Hardcastle for his mother’s shares.”

“Not yet. I don’t intend to cough up until the last possible moment. Even I can’t afford that sort of outlay for any longer than necessary.”

“Why not ask Sloane to advance you a short-term loan to cover it?”

“I wish I could, but it’s against the law for a bank to make a loan for the purpose of buying its own shares. No, I’ll get all my money back and make a handsome profit once Bishara completes his part of the deal. If Sloane gets his timing right, it will be a double whammy, because he’ll stay on as chairman of the bank and I’ll be the new chairman of Barrington’s.”