Knight's Mistress
Page 21
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He smiled. ‘I know you can.’ He held out his hand. ‘Come, Miss Hart, let’s go see those bankers and you can show them how well you count.’
The bank building was thirty storeys high, the director’s office on the top floor a visual exercise in opulence. On display was a collection of gold Shakyamuni buddhas in various poses and sizes, as well as lighted shelves with hundreds of delicate, antique Chinese porcelains in soft, pastel shades.
As they entered the room, two middle-aged men of consequence came to greet them. Dominic, his attorney and Kate exchanged bows and the requisite courtesies along with several minutes of polite conversation before they were seated in cream leather chairs arranged around a large malachite coffee table.
Tea was served by a beautiful young woman in a black couture dress and Kate understood why her suit mattered. The woman left. More polite conversation ensued, as per Asian protocol.
Finally, Dominic’s attorney, Mr Lee, addressed the issue at hand, his tone meticulously respectful. The two bankers presented their arguments. Then, negotiations began. Kate walked the bankers through the byzantine money trail in minute detail, explaining each incremental step in the process. It was perfectly clear where the money had come from and equally clear where the money now resided – name, dates, account number, total sum.
As she sat back, the conversation suddenly shifted from English. The tone changed as well, the bankers now visibly hostile in voice, expression, body language. Mr Lee’s response was equally contentious and the debate escalated in heat and bitterness.
Kate stole a glance at Dominic lounging beside her in his chair. His expression was closed, his body motionless in a dark grey, shadow striped, double-breasted Savile Row suit. He’d worn a white shirt with the more formal French cuffs for the occasion, his cufflinks burnished gold Roman coins, a pale grey tie, gracefully knotted, completed the quiet image of wealth. Of power. Considering the rising noise levels, he was incredibly restrained, perhaps even relaxed as he apparently followed the conversation.
As Kate watched the drama unfolding, Mr Lee’s face turned grim, the bankers’ voices became shrill. One of the bankers unleashed a barrage of harsh invective, then both men began to rise from their chairs.
Dominic finally moved. Lifting one finger to forestall them, he leaned forward and spoke softly in the same language as the principals, his voice entirely without inflection. Before he’d uttered more than three words, the men dropped back into their chairs and by the time he’d finished speaking the bankers’ faces were ashen.
Dominic came to his feet and this time he spoke in English. ‘I want my money within ten minutes. I hope we understand each other.’
He nodded at Kate who was scrambling to put her laptop in the black leather bag she’d been given at the house. ‘We’re done here, Miss Hart. Mr Lee will deal with the rest.’
As they left the office, Kate noticed that the receptionists appeared apprehensive; they must have been listening. Dominic smiled at them, made some remark in a different dialect, then escorted Kate to the private elevator.
‘Fuckers,’ he said under his breath, punching the down button. He slowly exhaled. ‘Sorry.’ He turned to Kate. ‘I try not to lose my temper but I wasn’t about to turn over twenty million to those crooks. By the way, you were superb, Miss Hart. Your explanation was crystal clear. Here, give me that. It’s heavy.’
She handed over the laptop bag. ‘Would they really have kept your money?’
‘Damn right they would have if they’d had the balls.’
‘Did you threaten them? It looked like you did.’
He hesitated briefly, then said, ‘Perhaps a little. I could have dragged it through the courts, but’ – he shrugged – ‘a foreign city state with a virtual dictatorship … the results are uncertain. Ah – finally.’ He held the elevator door for her, followed her in and hit the lobby button. ‘That presentation of yours deserves a bonus, Miss Hart,’ he said, changing the subject. ‘Send your bill to Max.’
‘You’re paying me enough already.’
He shot her a look. ‘Miss Hart,’ he quietly said, ‘if someone offers you carte blanche, don’t ever say no.’
‘I will if I want.’
He laughed. ‘Lord, you’re a breath of fresh air. Do you know you’re the first person I’ve ever met who’s turned down money? We have to celebrate miracles like that. What do you say to a night on the town in Hong Kong? Say yes. I’m in a bloody fine mood after saving my twenty mil. Come, Miss Hart, a simple yes.’ The doors opened onto the bustling lobby. He grinned at her. ‘You still owe me seven and a half days,’ he said. ‘You don’t have a choice.’
As she began to say maybe she did have a choice if he actually got his twenty million, that her assignment would be over, he grabbed her hand, hauled her out of the elevator, through the lobby and out onto the pavement where his car was waiting. ‘If you’re going to make a scene,’ he said, opening the back door, ‘do it in the car. It’s not that I’d be embarrassed,’ he added, politely shoving her in, ‘but you might be if I start screaming back.’ He slammed the door shut, set her bag on the floor. ‘The airport, Chu. Call Max. Tell him to meet us there.’ Then he turned back to Kate and grinned. ‘OK, I’m ready. Scream away.’
Now was her chance to make her point about going back home. ‘I’d like to see Hong Kong,’ she heard herself say. She had no explanation; she wasn’t even looking for one. She just felt happy saying it.
The bank building was thirty storeys high, the director’s office on the top floor a visual exercise in opulence. On display was a collection of gold Shakyamuni buddhas in various poses and sizes, as well as lighted shelves with hundreds of delicate, antique Chinese porcelains in soft, pastel shades.
As they entered the room, two middle-aged men of consequence came to greet them. Dominic, his attorney and Kate exchanged bows and the requisite courtesies along with several minutes of polite conversation before they were seated in cream leather chairs arranged around a large malachite coffee table.
Tea was served by a beautiful young woman in a black couture dress and Kate understood why her suit mattered. The woman left. More polite conversation ensued, as per Asian protocol.
Finally, Dominic’s attorney, Mr Lee, addressed the issue at hand, his tone meticulously respectful. The two bankers presented their arguments. Then, negotiations began. Kate walked the bankers through the byzantine money trail in minute detail, explaining each incremental step in the process. It was perfectly clear where the money had come from and equally clear where the money now resided – name, dates, account number, total sum.
As she sat back, the conversation suddenly shifted from English. The tone changed as well, the bankers now visibly hostile in voice, expression, body language. Mr Lee’s response was equally contentious and the debate escalated in heat and bitterness.
Kate stole a glance at Dominic lounging beside her in his chair. His expression was closed, his body motionless in a dark grey, shadow striped, double-breasted Savile Row suit. He’d worn a white shirt with the more formal French cuffs for the occasion, his cufflinks burnished gold Roman coins, a pale grey tie, gracefully knotted, completed the quiet image of wealth. Of power. Considering the rising noise levels, he was incredibly restrained, perhaps even relaxed as he apparently followed the conversation.
As Kate watched the drama unfolding, Mr Lee’s face turned grim, the bankers’ voices became shrill. One of the bankers unleashed a barrage of harsh invective, then both men began to rise from their chairs.
Dominic finally moved. Lifting one finger to forestall them, he leaned forward and spoke softly in the same language as the principals, his voice entirely without inflection. Before he’d uttered more than three words, the men dropped back into their chairs and by the time he’d finished speaking the bankers’ faces were ashen.
Dominic came to his feet and this time he spoke in English. ‘I want my money within ten minutes. I hope we understand each other.’
He nodded at Kate who was scrambling to put her laptop in the black leather bag she’d been given at the house. ‘We’re done here, Miss Hart. Mr Lee will deal with the rest.’
As they left the office, Kate noticed that the receptionists appeared apprehensive; they must have been listening. Dominic smiled at them, made some remark in a different dialect, then escorted Kate to the private elevator.
‘Fuckers,’ he said under his breath, punching the down button. He slowly exhaled. ‘Sorry.’ He turned to Kate. ‘I try not to lose my temper but I wasn’t about to turn over twenty million to those crooks. By the way, you were superb, Miss Hart. Your explanation was crystal clear. Here, give me that. It’s heavy.’
She handed over the laptop bag. ‘Would they really have kept your money?’
‘Damn right they would have if they’d had the balls.’
‘Did you threaten them? It looked like you did.’
He hesitated briefly, then said, ‘Perhaps a little. I could have dragged it through the courts, but’ – he shrugged – ‘a foreign city state with a virtual dictatorship … the results are uncertain. Ah – finally.’ He held the elevator door for her, followed her in and hit the lobby button. ‘That presentation of yours deserves a bonus, Miss Hart,’ he said, changing the subject. ‘Send your bill to Max.’
‘You’re paying me enough already.’
He shot her a look. ‘Miss Hart,’ he quietly said, ‘if someone offers you carte blanche, don’t ever say no.’
‘I will if I want.’
He laughed. ‘Lord, you’re a breath of fresh air. Do you know you’re the first person I’ve ever met who’s turned down money? We have to celebrate miracles like that. What do you say to a night on the town in Hong Kong? Say yes. I’m in a bloody fine mood after saving my twenty mil. Come, Miss Hart, a simple yes.’ The doors opened onto the bustling lobby. He grinned at her. ‘You still owe me seven and a half days,’ he said. ‘You don’t have a choice.’
As she began to say maybe she did have a choice if he actually got his twenty million, that her assignment would be over, he grabbed her hand, hauled her out of the elevator, through the lobby and out onto the pavement where his car was waiting. ‘If you’re going to make a scene,’ he said, opening the back door, ‘do it in the car. It’s not that I’d be embarrassed,’ he added, politely shoving her in, ‘but you might be if I start screaming back.’ He slammed the door shut, set her bag on the floor. ‘The airport, Chu. Call Max. Tell him to meet us there.’ Then he turned back to Kate and grinned. ‘OK, I’m ready. Scream away.’
Now was her chance to make her point about going back home. ‘I’d like to see Hong Kong,’ she heard herself say. She had no explanation; she wasn’t even looking for one. She just felt happy saying it.
