Chapters (34)
- Cover
- Dedication
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- Chapter 3
- Chapter 4
- Chapter 5
- Chapter 6
- Chapter 7
- Chapter 8
- Chapter 9
- Chapter 10
- Chapter 11
- Chapter 12
- Chapter 13
- Chapter 14
- Chapter 15
- Chapter 16
- Chapter 17
- Chapter 18
- Chapter 19
- Chapter 20
- Chapter 21
- Chapter 22
- Chapter 23
- Chapter 24
- Chapter 25
- Chapter 26
- Chapter 27
- Chapter 28
- Chapter 29
- Acknowledgments
- About the Author
- Letter from Author
With his grizzled hair cut soldier-style short, he’s lean – not a hint of fat – and wearing a blue blazer, grey slacks, pink shirt with top button undone. He’d be at home propping up the bar at a home counties golf club, where he’d eviscerate all and anyone he plays, even his mum. Energy crackles off him. You can’t ignore him – and you can’t relax.
I walk towards him with arm outstretched.
‘Don’t be a cock, Peck,’ he says. ‘We’re not going to shake hands. Only poofs shake hands.’
I freeze. He’s even more of a thug than I knew. And then he bursts out laughing. ‘Of course I’ll shake your hand. Just having a bit of fun. Sit down, sit down.’
We go back to the sofas. I find myself on the seat by the window, while Streatham occupies one nearer the door. Sands pulls up a hard-backed chair and takes out a notebook. The real meeting here is between me and Streatham.
‘Now, laddie,’ says Streatham. ‘I understand someone has been whispering dangerous bollocks in your ear.’
‘I don’t know what you mean, Mr Streatham.’
‘First names here, Gil. It’s Jock to you. And don’t kid a kidder. You know what I’m talking about.’
He waits expectantly, his gaze fixed on me. Offering me every opportunity to incriminate myself. We are in a well-appointed office and everyone is smiling. But the feeling I have is of being dangled by my ankles out of those tenth-storey windows.
‘OK.’ His smile doesn’t flicker. ‘Let me be more specific. That tosh about us leaning on the government over some pensions stuff. Who said that to you?’
‘If it’s not true, why does it matter?’
‘We’re in the middle of a significant corporate transaction and there’s no shortage of dirty tricks going on. We don’t need this kind of crap being talked about in polite society.’
When he says ‘we’ he means Jimmy Breitner. To pull off the Capital TV takeover, Breitner needs Media Corp’s share price to rise, or at least stay stable. If the share price falls – say, because some irritating journo prints allegations about unethical behaviour – then there’s a risk that Capital TV’s shareholders will vote against the opportunity to exchange their gold-standard shares for Media Corp’s lead tokens.
Except for one thing. As Jess stressed to me, Schon has underwritten a cash alternative offer for Capital shareholders. So if Media Corp shares were to tank, and Capital shareholders chose cash rather than Media Corp shares, Schon would be sitting on a massive underwriting loss. Schon and Breitner are both up to their necks in it.
‘You’ve been in this game far longer than me, Jock. You know better than anyone that if I give up my sources to anyone, even you, I might as well start looking for a new career.’