Noble House

"It's great, maybe a mite too strong for me. I had some around 2:00 A.M., and it certainly woke me up."
"Oh? You still on jet lag?'
She shook her head and told him about Peter Marlowe.
"Oh! What bad joss!" He stabbed the intercom. "Claudia, call the Nathan Nursing Home and see how Mrs. Marlowe is. And send some flowers. Thanks."
Casey frowned. "How'd you know she was at the Nathan?"
"Doc Tooley always uses that place in Kowloon." He was watching her closely, astonished that she seemed so friendly when obviously Par-Con was trying to sabotage their deal. If she's been up most of the night, that accounts for the shadows, he thought. Well, shadows or not, watch out, young lady, we shook on the deal. "Another cup?" he asked solicitously.
"No thanks, this's fine."
"I recommend the scones. We eat them like this: a big dollop of Devonshire clotted cream on top, a teaspoon of homemade strawberry jam in the center of the cream and . . . magic! Here!"
Reluctantly she took it. The scone was just bite-sized. It vanished. "Fantastic," she gasped, wiping a touch of the cream off her mouth.
"But all those calories! No, really, no more, thanks. I've done nothing but eat since I got here."
"It doesn't show."
"It will." He saw her smile back at him. She was sitting in one of the deep high-backed leather chairs, the tea table between them. Again she crossed her legs and Dunross thought once more that Gavallan had been right about her—that her Achilles' heel was impatience. "May I start now?" she asked.
"You're sure you don't want some more tea?" he asked, deliberately to throw her off balance again.
"No thanks."
"Then tea's over. What's cooking?"
Casey took a deep breath. "It seems that Struan's is way out on a limb and about to go under."
"Please don't concern yourself about that. Struan's really is in very fine shape."
"You may be, tai-pan, but it doesn't look that way to us. Or to outsiders. I've checked. Most everyone seems to think Gornt, and or the Victoria, will make the raid stick. It's almost a general thumbs down. Now our deal's—"
"We have a deal till Tuesday. That's what we agreed," he said, his voice sharpening. "Do I understand you want to renege or change it?"
"No. But in the present state you're in, it'd be crazy and bad business to proceed. So we've two alternatives: It's either Rothwell-Gornt, or we've to help you with some kind of bail-out operation."
"Oh?"
"Yes. I've a plan, a partial plan for how you could maybe extricate yourself and make us all a fortune. Okay? You're the best for us—long-term."
"Thank you," he said, not believing her, all attention, well aware that any concession she offered was going to be prohibitively expensive.
"Try this on for size. Our bankers are the First Central New York —the hated bank here. They want back into Hong Kong so much it hurts, but they'll never get a new charter, right?"
Dunross's interest peaked at this new thought. "So?"
"So recently they bought a small foreign bank with branches in Tokyo, Singapore, Bangkok and Hong Kong: the Royal Belgium and Far East Bank. It's a tiny, nothing bank and they paid 3 million for everything. First Central has asked us to put our funds through the Royal Belgium if our deal goes through. Last night I met with Dave Murtagh who's in charge of Royal Belgium and he was moaning and groaning how bad business was, how they're squeezed out of everything by the Establishment here and though they've got the huge dollar resources of First Central behind them, almost no-body'll open accounts and deposit Hong Kong dollars which they need to make loans. You know about the bank?"
"Yes," he said, not understanding what she was leading to, "but I didn't realize the First Central was behind them. I don't think that's common knowledge. When was it bought out?"
"A couple of months ago. Now, what if the Royal Belgium would advance you Monday 120 percent of the purchase price of the two Toda ships?"
Dunross gaped at her, caught off guard. "Secured by what?"
"The ships."
"Impossible! No bank'd do that!"
"The 100 percent is for Toda, the 20 percent to cover all carrying charges, insurances and the first months of operation."
"With no cash flow, no charterer set?" he asked incredulously.
"Could you charter them in sixty days to give you a cash flow to sustain a reasonable repayment schedule?"
"Easily." Jesus Christ, if I can pay Toda at once I can slam my lease-back scheme into operation with the first two ships, without having to wait. He held onto his hope, wondering what the cost, the real cost would be. "Is this a theory or will they really do it?"
"They might."
"In return for what?"
"In return for Struan's depositing 50 percent of all foreign exchange for a five-year period; a promise you'd keep average cash deposits with them of between 5 and 7 million Hong Kong dollars —one and one half million U.S. dollars worth; that you'd use the bank as your second Hong Kong bank and the First Central as your prime lending American bank outside of Hong Kong for a five-year period. What do you say?"
It took all his training not to bellow with joy. "Is this a firm offer?"
"I think it is, tai-pan. I'm a bit out of my depth—I've never been into ships but 120 percent seemed fantastic and the other terms okay. I didn't know how far I should go negotiating terms but I told him he'd better make it all fair or he'd never get to first base."
An ice shaft went into his guts. "The local man would never have the authority to make such an offer."
"That was Murtagh's next point, but he said we've the weekend and if you'll go for the scheme he'll get on the wire."
Dunross sat back, nonplussed. He put aside three vital questions and said, "Let's hold this for the moment. What's your part in all this?"
"In a minute. There's another wrinkle to his offer. I think he's bananas but Murtagh said he'd try to persuade the brass to put up a revolving $50 million U.S. against the value of the unissued shares you got in your treasury. So you're home free. If."
Dunross felt the sweat break out on his back and on his forehead, well aware what a tremendous gamble that would be, however big the bank. With effort he put his brain to work. With the ships paid for and that revolving fund, he could fight off Gornt and smash his attack. And with Gornt bottled, Orlin'd come back meekly because he'd always been a good customer—and wasn't First Central part of the Orlin Merchant Bank consortium? "What about our deal?"
"That stays as is. You announce at the best time for both of us, for you and for Par-Con as we agreed. If, and it's a big if, if First Central'll go for the gamble, you and we could make a killing, a real killing by buying Struan at 9.50 Monday morning—it has to go back up to 28, maybe to 30, doesn't it? The only part I can't figure is how to deal with the bank runs."
Dunross took out his handkerchief and unashamedly wiped his forehead. Then he got up and poured two brandy and sodas. He gave her one and sat back in his chair again, his mind amok, one moment blank, the next crammed with happiness, instantly to be agitated and hurting with all the hope and fear, the questions, answers, plans and counterplans.
Christallbloodymighty, he thought, trying to calm himself. The brandy tasted good. The wanning bite was very good. He noticed she only sipped hers then set it down and watched him. When his brain had cleared and he was ready, he looked at her. "All this in return for what?"
"You'll have to set the parameters with the Royal Belgium— that's up to you. I don't know accurately enough your net cash flow. Interest charges'll be steep, but worth it to get out from under.