“He neither did, nor didn’t. But what he did say was that he had to leave immediately or he’d miss the 3:09 to Huddersfield, and as it’s just after ten a.m., and Euston is only twenty minutes away by taxi…”

“Clever man, your Mr. Hardcastle, because I’m sure we won’t have to check whether or not there actually is a 3:09 to Huddersfield. Congratulations. I suspect no one other than you would have been able to get that information out of him. So as they say in my country, I will be forever in your debt, until you have been repaid in full.”

“Well, now you mention it, Hakim, there is something you may be able help me with.”

Bishara listened carefully to Seb’s request. “I’m not sure that your scoutmaster would have approved of what you’re suggesting. I’ll see what I can do, but I make no promises.”

*   *   *

“Good morning, Mr. Mellor. I think you’ve already met my lawyer, Jason Moreland, and my chief accountant, Nick Pirie.”

Mellor shook hands with both men before joining them around an oval table.

“As you’re on the board of Farthings,” said Bishara, “I can only assume you come here as an emissary of Mr. Sloane.”

“Then you assume wrongly,” said Mellor. “He’s the last man I would be willing to represent in any negotiation. Sloane made a complete ass of himself when he turned down your offer.”

“But he told me he had an offer of six pounds on the table, from a well-established City institution.”

“And you knew that wasn’t true, which is why you walked away.”

“And you are willing to walk back, because they were never his shares to sell in the first place.”

“The truth is,” said Mellor, “he was playing Russian roulette with my bullet, and it turned out to be a blank. However, I am willing to sell you fifty-one percent of the bank’s stock for the five pounds a share you originally offered.”

“Originally offered is correct, Mr. Mellor. But that offer is no longer on the table. After all, I can buy Farthings on the open market for two pounds and eleven shillings a share, and have been doing so for several weeks.”

“Not the fifty-one percent you want, which would give you overall control of the bank. In any case, I can’t afford to sell them at that price.”

“No,” said Bishara, “I’m sure you can’t. But you can afford to sell them for three pounds and nine shillings a share.”

Mellor’s mouth opened, and didn’t close for some time. “Could you make it four pounds?”

“No, I could not, Mr. Mellor. Three pounds and nine shillings is my final offer.” Bishara turned to his chief accountant who handed him a banker’s draft for £20,562,000. He placed it on the table.