Noble House

"Congratulations, my dear fellow. Heartiest congratulations! And the down payment?"
"Seven."
"That's marvelous! That covers everything nicely. It'll be marvelous to have the Toda specter away from the balance sheet—and with another million for Orlin, well, perhaps they'll give you more time, then at long last you can forget all the bad years and look forward to a very profitable future."
"Yes."
"Have you got your ships chartered yet?"
"No. But I'll have charterers in time to service our loan."
"I noticed your stock's jumped two points."
"It's on the way now. It's going to double, within thirty days."
"Oh? What makes you think so?"
"The boom."
"Eh?"
"All the signs point that way, Paul. Confidence's up. Our Par-Con deal will lead the boom. It's long overdue."
"That would be marvelous! When do you make the initial announcement about Par-Con?"
"Friday, after the market closes."
"Excellent. My thought entirely. By Monday everyone will be on the bandwagon!"
"But let's keep everything in the family until then."
"Of course. Oh, did you hear Quillan almost killed himself last night? It was just after your party. His brakes failed on the Peak Road."
"Yes I heard. He should have killed himself—that would have sent Second Great Company's stock skyrocketing with happiness!"
I "Come now, Ian! A boom eh? You really think so?" "Enough to want to buy heavily. How about a million credit— to buy Struan's?"
"Personal—or for the House?"
"Personal."
"We would hold the stock?"
"Of course."
"And if the stock goes down?"
"It won't."
"Say it does, Ian?"
"What do you suggest?"
"Well, it's all in the family so why don't we say if it goes two points below market at today's closing, we can sell and debit your account with the loss?"
"Three. Struan's is going to double."
"Yes. Meanwhile, let's say two until you sign the Par-Con deal. The House is rather a lot over on its revolving credit already. Let's say two, eh?"
"All right."
I'm safe at two, Dunross thought again, reassuring himself. I think.
Before he had left the bank he had gone by Johnjohn's office. Bruce Johnjohn, second deputy chief manager and heir apparent to Havergill, was a stocky, gentle man with a hummingbird's vitality. Dunross had given him the same news. Johnjohn had been equally pleased. But he had advised caution on projecting a boom and, contrary to Havergill, was greatly concerned with the Ho-Pak run.
"I don't like it at all, Ian. It's very smelly."
"Yes. What about Haply's article?"
"Oh, it's all nonsense. We don't go in for those sort of shenanigans. Blacs? Equally foolish. Why should we want to eliminate a major Chinese bank, even if we could. The Ching Bank might be the culprit. Perhaps. Perhaps old Smiler Ching would—he and Richard have been rivals for years. It could be a combination of half a dozen banks, Ching included. It might even be that Richard's depositors are really scared. I've heard all sorts of rumors for three months or so. They're in deep with dozens of dubious property schemes. Anyway, if he goes under it'll affect us all. Be bloody careful, Ian!"
"I'll be glad when you're upstairs, Bruce."
"Don't sell Paul short—he's very clever and he's been awfully good for Hong Kong and the bank. But we're in for some hairy times in Asia, Ian. I must say I think you're very wise to try to diversify into South America—it's a huge market and untapped by us. Have you considered South Africa?"
"What about it?"
"Let's have lunch next week. Wednesday? Good. I've an idea for you."
"Oh? What?"
"It'll wait, old chum. You heard about Gornt?"
"Yes."
"Very unusual for a Rolls, what?"
"Yes."
"He's very sure he can take Par-Con away from you."
"He won't."
"Have you seen Phillip today?"
"Phillip Chen? No, why?"
"Nothing."
"Wh^y?"
"Bumped into him at the track. He seemed . . . well, he looked awful and very distraught. He's taking John's . . . he's taking the kidnapping very badly."
"Wouldn't you?"
"Yes. Yes I would. But I didn't think he and his Number One Son were that close."
Dunross thought about Adryon and Glenna and his son Duncan who was fifteen and on holiday on a friend's sheep station in Australia. What would I do if one of them were kidnapped? What would I do if a mutilated ear came through the mails at me like that?
I'd go mad.
I'd go mad with rage. I'd forget everything else and I'd hunt down the kidnappers and then, and then my vengeance would last a thousand years. I'd …
There was a knock on the door. "Yes? Oh hello, Kathy," he said, happy as always to see his younger sister.
"Sorry to interrupt, Ian dear," Kathy Gavallan said in a rush from the door to his office, "but Claudia said you had a few minutes before your next appointment. Is it all right?"
" 'Course it's all right," he said with a laugh, and put aside the memo he was working on.
"Oh good, thanks." She closed the door and sat in the high chair that was near the window.
He stretched to ease the ache in his back and grinned at her. "Hey, I like your hat." It was pale straw with a yellow band that matched her cool-looking silk dress. "What's up?"
"I've got multiple sclerosis."
He stared at her blankly. "What?"
"That's what the tests say. The doctor told me yesterday but yesterday I couldn't tell you or … Today he checked the tests with another specialist and there's no mistake." Her voice was calm and her face calm and she sat upright in the chair, looking prettier than he had ever seen her. "I had to tell someone. Sorry to say it so suddenly. I thought you could help me make a plan, not today, but when you've time, perhaps over the weekend. . . ." She saw his expression and she laughed nervously. "It's not as bad as that. I think."
Dunross sat back in his big leather chair and fought to get his shocked mind working. "Multiple . . . that's dicey, isn't it?"
"Yes. Yes it is. Apparently it's something that attacks your nervous system that they can't cure yet. They don't know what it is or where or how you . . . how you get it."
"We'll get other specialists. No, even better, you go to England with Penn. There'd be specialists there or in Europe. There's got to be some form of cure, Kathy, got to be!"
"There isn't, dear. But England is a good idea. I'm … Dr. Tooley said he'd like me to see a Harley Street specialist for treatment. I'd love to go with Penn. I'm not too advanced and there's nothing to be too concerned about, if I'm careful."
"Meaning?"
"Meaning that if I take care of myself, take their medication, nap in the afternoon to stop getting tired, I'll still be able to take care of Andrew and the house and the children and play a. little tennis and golf occasionally, but only one round in the mornings. You see, they can arrest the disease but they can't repair the damage already done so far. He said if I don't take care of myself and rest—it's rest mostly he said—if I don't rest, it will start up again and then each time you go down a plateau. Yes. And then you can never get back up again. Do you see, dear?"
He stared at her, keeping his agony for her bottled. His heart was grinding in his chest and he had eight plans for her and he thought
Oh Christ poor Kathy! "Yes. Well, thank God you can rest all you want," he said, keeping his voice calm like hers. "Do you mind if I talk to Tooley?"