I’ve always been disgusted by the thought that there are people who are prepared to stoop to this kind of clearly criminal behaviour. If it was true I could only agree a hundred per cent with Pierre’s reaction. I had railed about the financial services industry often enough – like most of the population of the country – but to be, perhaps, close to an actual case put things in a different light.
“If what you say is true, then I fully agree that something should be done about it. I don’t have a lot to do either and it could be quite fun.”
“Quite fun” is an expression I wish I hadn’t used. It was going to be more than that.
We all chewed this over for a minute or two. Mike got up to renew the drinks. I looked at Pierre with a grin, already trying to imagine how we could go about finding out if his suspicions were true or not.
“So what do you have in mind?” “Well, you’re practically local to Edinburgh. I wondered if you might have some contacts. Also with your financial expertise perhaps you can think of a way of finding out if they are up to anything or not. The reason I came over now is that there is a conference in Edinburgh next week on private investment and the AIM boss – a man called Alan Purdy – is to be the main speaker. I’m going to it to hear what he has to say and I wondered if you might come along too.”
By this time Mike had come back and set the drinks down with a grin.
“I rather like the idea of this,” he said “I know bugger all about finance and money but if these guys are crooks I’m all for bringing it out. Mind you, I don’t know what I can bring to the party.”
At that point I didn’t either but he was going to turn out to be exceedingly useful.
I reflected for a minute or two. I relayed the information to Mike about the conference next week.
“Does this Purdy character know you’re going to the conference?” I asked Pierre.
“Yes. I replied to the invitation I received. I suppose they need to know for numbers who is going to attend. I’ll probably get a badge at the entrance. That’s the way these things usually work.”
“Here’s what I suggest. You haven’t made any waves with these people yet?”
“No. I’m just one of their investors and I get their regular bulletins. I haven’t asked any questions about returns or anything like that.”
“OK . I’ll see if I can get an invitation for myself. We’ll go along independently. You stay perfectly friendly with your Mr Purdy and I’ll go along as if I was representing potential investors and see if I can stir things up a bit.”
“You mean bushwhack him?” asked Mike. “Something like that. I’ll ask a few questions and see if I can destabilise the guy. Pierre stays friendly, on the inside. Afterwards we compare notes. If things look suspicious we’ll plan what to do next. I’ll tap a few contacts and see if I can get an invitation. How about that?”
“And if we conclude that everything is above board, I’ll just decide whether to leave my money there or move it,” Pierre concluded.
That decided, I asked Pierre what he was planning to do over the next few days.
“A bit of touring,” he replied. “Maybe I’ll take my new clubs with me and get in a bit of practice so that next time we play I can give a better account of myself.”
Mike suggested that perhaps we should introduce Pierre to his younger sister. I had forgotten about that but obviously it had to be done.
I dropped Pierre off back at his hotel and Mike and me went back to Letham, having promised to join Pierre for dinner.
We spent the rest of the afternoon at home doing a bit of gardening. Mike is still fit enough to help me with some of the heavy stuff and I have to admit that I appreciated his help. Bad backs are not ideal for shifting heavy sacks of compost or for clambering around in trees to prune them.
Dinner was an opportunity for us to fill in lots of stories about Dad which Pierre really appreciated. It must be strange to discover who your father is at seventy years old. I couldn’t help thinking about all these years that we had had when we had taken him for granted and to realise that here was someone who would only learn secondhand. We did our best to regale him with anecdotes which we hoped would give him a picture of the man we had both loved and who had been an integral part of the forming of our personalities. He had been an example to us in so many ways that were incalculable.
The great thing about him had been the example he gave us and also the fact that he had let us get on with our lives – make our own mistakes – but was always there if we wanted an opinion or advice – and most of it was delivered with sound common sense.
Pierre let us ramble on. It was also an opportunity for Mike and me to reminisce. I discovered things about Dad through Mike that I hadn’t known about. We each had our own personal experiences that we hadn’t always had the occasion to share. So Mike and I benefitted from the memories as well as Pierre. It was a very satisfying evening, and, as usual, the food and wine were excellent.
We parted company rather late and I risked the fact that there would be no police on the two-mile journey home. If there had been I would probably have been in line for a few points on my licence, but the alternative of being driven home by Mike was not an option. He would have turned the balloon into all the colours of the rainbow. I was going to have to put him up for the night and let him go off home the next day. And on top of that he insisted on a night cap before crashing out at around two in the morning.
On Monday I was going to have to see about getting an invitation for the conference and phoning my wee sister to tell her that we had somebody we wanted her to meet. I had no idea what her reaction was going to be but I thought it best to keep it as a surprise rather than announcing the news over the phone. We had decided that we would organise a visit to Doune after Pierre got back.
Chapter 5
Sundays are not very different from any other day of the week when you’re retired. Mike woke late and set off for Forfar early in the afternoon.
I did the little housekeeping that I was now used to. A quick vacuum, change the bed sheets, stick on a wash. I have a cleaning lady once a week who does the rest and always leaves the pictures hanging not quite straight. I think she knocks them all slightly off the horizontal just before she leaves to give the impression that she has dusted them. I manage to keep the place in a reasonable state of cleanliness although Liz would probably be horrified.
The last few days had certainly been a change in routine for me and had set me thinking a lot about Dad. I looked differently at the various mementoes of him that were scattered around the house. His portrait on the wall. Other photos and keepsakes that I had inherited. I pulled out the drawer in the old desk and rifled through piles of old black and white photos which represented a pictorial essay of my childhood. Definitely a day of memories – almost all good ones.
I drifted through the afternoon and went to bed early after watching my DVD of The Man who Shot LibertyValance for the umpteenth time.
Fresh on Monday morning I turned my mind to Pierre’s suspicions of AIM and Mr Alan Purdy. I still had contacts in the financial world of Edinburgh so, after breakfast, I got on the phone. I had no trouble in fixing up an invitation to the conference on “Investing For You” which was to be held in a Conference Centre on Wednesday.
I was rather looking forward to my outing. The idea of asking a few questions designed to disturb appealed to me. Perhaps shaking the tree a bit might reveal something about the company and its boss.