Noble House by James Clavell
He went into the jockeys’ room.
Behind him Dunross had turned to glance at the tote. The odds had shortened, the total amount at risk already two and a half million. Butterscotch Lass was 3 to 1, Noble Star 7 to 1, still no jockey listed, Pilot Fish 5 to 1, Golden Lady 7 to 1. Early yet, he thought, and so much time left to gamble. Travkin will shorten the odds. A cold shaft took him. I wonder if there’s a deal going on right now, a deal among the trainers and jockeys? Christ, we all better be watching this one very carefully indeed.
“Ah Ian!”
“Oh hello, sir.” Dunross smiled at Sir Geoffrey who came up to him then looked at Havergill who was with the governor. “Pity about Winwell Stag, Paul, I thought he ran a grand race.”
“Joss,” Havergill said politely. “Who’s riding Noble Star?”
“Travkin.”
The governor’s face lit up. “Ah, very good choice. Yes, he’ll make a good race of it. For a moment, Ian, I was afraid you might be tempted.”
“I was. Still am, sir.” Dunross smiled faintly. “If Alexi gets hit by a bus between now and then, I’m riding her.”
“Well, for the sake of all of us and the Noble House, let’s hope that doesn’t happen. We can’t afford to have you hurt. The going looks terrible.” Another swirl of rain came and passed by. “We’ve been very lucky so far. No bad accidents. If the rain starts in earnest, it might be worthwhile considering abandoning.”
“We’ve already discussed it, sir. We’re running a little late. The race’ll be delayed ten minutes. So long as the weather holds for this race most people will be satisfied.”
Sir Geoffrey watched him. “Oh by the way, Ian, I tried the minister a few minutes ago but I’m afraid he was already in meetings. I left word and he’ll call back the moment he can. It seems the ramifications of this damned Profumo scandal are once more tearing at the very roots of the Conservative government. The press are screaming, quite rightly, in case there have been breaches of security. Until the Commission of Enquiry comes out next month, settling once and for all security aspects and rumors that others in the government are implicated or not, there’ll be no peace.”
“Yes,” Havergill said. “But surely the worst’s over, sir. As to the report, certainly it won’t be adverse.”
“Adverse or not, this scandal will wreck the Conservatives,” Dunross said soberly, remembering AMG’s forecast in the last report.
“Good God, I hope not.” Havergill was aghast. “Those two twits, Grey and Broadhurst, in power amongst all the other Socialist shower? If their press conference was any indication, we might as well all go home.”
“We are home, and it all comes home to roost. Eventually,” Sir Geoffrey said sadly. “Anyway, Ian made the correct decision, not to ride.” He glanced at Havergill and his gaze sharpened. “As I said, Paul, it’s important to make correct decisions. It would be a very poor show if the Ho-Pak’s depositors were wiped out, perhaps just because of poor judgment by Richard Kwang and the lack of a benevolent decision by those who could avoid such a disaster if they wished—perhaps to great profit. Eh?”
“Yes sir.”
Sir Geoffrey nodded and left them.
Dunross said, “What was that about?”
“The governor thinks we should rescue the Ho-Pak,” Havergill said offhandedly.
“Why don’t you?”
“Let’s talk about the General Stores takeover.”
“First let’s finish the Ho-Pak. The governor’s right, it would benefit all of us, Hong Kong—and the bank.”
“You’d be in favor?”
“Yes, of course.”
“You’ll approve, you and your block will approve making the takeover?”
“I don’t have a block but certainly I’ll support a reasonable takeover.”
Paul Havergill smiled thinly. “I was thinking of 20 cents on the dollar on Richard’s holdings.”
Dunross whistled. “That’s not much.”
“By Monday night he’ll have zero. He’ll probably settle for that—his holdings would give the bank control. We could easily stand surety for 100 percent of his depositors.”
“He’s got that amount of securities?”
“No, but with the normalization of the market and our judicious management, over a year or two it’s true the acquisition of the Ho-Pak could greatly benefit us. Oh yes. And there’s a desperate need to restore confidence. Such a takeover would help immeasurably.”
“This afternoon would be a perfect announcement time.”
“I agree. Anything on Tiptop?”
Dunross studied him. “Why the sudden change around, Paul? And why discuss it with me?”
“There’s no change around. I’ve considered the Ho-Pak very carefully. The acquisition would be good bank policy.” Havergill watched him. “We’ll give him face and offer him a seat on our board.”
“So the rumors about the Big Bank are true?”
“Not to my knowledge,” the banker said coldly. “As to why discuss it with you? Because you’re a director of the bank, presently the most important one, with substantial influence on the board. That’s a sensible thing to do, isn’t it?”
“Yes, but.”
Havergill’s eyes became colder. “The interests of the bank have nothing to do with my distaste for you, or your methods. But you were right about Superfoods. You made a good offer at a perfect time and sent a wave of confidence soaring through everyone here. It’s bound to spread over all Hong Kong. It was brilliant timing and now if we follow it up and announce we’ve assumed all the Ho-Pak responsibilities to its depositors, that’s another immense vote of confidence. All we need to do is get back confidence. If Tiptop comes to our assistance with his cash, Monday is boom day for Hong Kong. So first thing on Monday morning, Ian, we buy Struan’s heavily. By Monday evening we’ll assume control. However I’ll make you a deal right now: we’ll put up the 2 million for General Foods in return for half your bank stock.”
“No thanks.”
“We’ll have it all by next weekend. We’ll guarantee that 2 million in any event to cover the takeover and guarantee the overall offer you made to Pug—if you fail to avoid your own takeover.”
“I won’t.”
“Of course. But you don’t mind if I mention it to him and to that nosy little certain Haply?”
“You’re a bastard, aren’t you?”
Havergill’s thin lips twisted with his smile. “This is business—I want your block of bank stock. Your forebears bought it for nothing, practically stole it from the Brocks after smashing them. I want to do the same. And I want control of the Noble House. Of course. Like a great number of others. Probably even your American friend Bartlett if the truth were known. Where’s the 2 million coming from?”
“It’s manna from heaven.”
“We’ll find out sooner or later. We’re your bankers and you owe us rather a lot of money! Will Tiptop bail us out?”
“I can’t be sure but I talked to him last night. He was encouraging. He agreed to come here after lunch but he hasn’t arrived yet. That’s ominous.”
“Yes.” Havergill brushed some drizzle off his nose. “We’ve had a very positive response from the Trade Bank of Moscow.”
“Even you’re not that fat-headed!”
“It’s a last resort, Ian. A serious last resort.”
“You’ll call an immediate board meeting to discuss the Ho-Pak takeover?”
“Good lord, no.” Havergill was sardonic. “You think I’m that much of a fool? If we did that you could table the other directors about an extension of your loan. No, Ian, I propose to ask them individually, like you. With your agreement I have a majority already, the others of course fall into line. I do have your agreement?”
“At 20 cents on the dollar and full payout of investors, yes.”
“I might need leeway to go to 30 cents. Agreed?”
“Yes.”
“Your word?”
“Oh yes, you have my word.”
“Thank you.”
“But you’ll call a board meeting before Monday’s opening?”
“I agreed to consider it. Only. I’ve considered it and the answer now is no. Hong Kong’s a freebooting society where the weak fail and the strong keep the fruits of their labors.” Havergill smiled and he glanced at the tote. The odds had shortened. 2 to 1 on Butterscotch Lass, well known for liking the wet. Pilot Fish now 3 to 1. While they watched, Travkin’s name flashed up alongside Noble Star and a huge roar accompanied it. “I think the governor was wrong, Ian. You should have ridden. Then I’d’ve put my modest bet on you. Yes. You’d have gone out in a blaze of glory. Yes, you would have won. I’m not sure about Travkin. Good afternoon.” He raised his hat and headed for Richard Kwang who stood with his wife and trainer to one side. “Ah Richard! Can I have a word wi—” He was drowned by a huge roar from the crowd as the first of the eight runners for the fifth race began to trickle out from under the stands. Pilot Fish led the pack, the slight drizzle making his black coat shimmer.
“Yes, Paul?” Richard Kwang asked, following him into an empty space. “I wanted to talk to you but didn’t want to interrupt you with the governor and the tai-pan. Now,” he said with forced joviality, “I’ve a plan. Let’s lump all the Ho-Pak’s securities together and if you’ll lend me 50 mill—”
“No thank you, Richard,” Havergill said crisply. “But we do have a proposal that’s good till five o’clock today. We’ll bail out the Ho-Pak and guarantee all your depositors. In return we’ll buy your personal holdings at par an—”
“Par? That’s a fiftieth of their value!” Richard Kwang screeched. “That’s a fiftieth of their worth—”
“Actually it’s 5 cents on the dollar which is about all their value. Is it a deal?”
“No of course not. Dew neh loh moh, am I a dogmeat madman?” Richard Kwang’s heart was almost bursting. A moment ago he had thought, impossibly, that Havergill was granting him a reprieve from the disaster that by now he was convinced was absolute, however much he pretended otherwise, however much it was not his fault but the work of rumormongers and malicious fools who had led him into inept banking deals. But now he was in the vise. Oh ko! Now he would be squeezed and whatever he did he could not escape the tai-pans. Oh oh oh! Disaster on disaster and now that ungrateful strumpet Venus Poon making me lose face in front of Uncle Four Fingers, Charlie Wang and even Photographer Ng and that even after I delivered to her personally the new mink coat that she trails in the mud so carelessly.
“New?” she had flared this morning. “You claim this miserable secondhand coat is new?”
“Of course!” he had shouted. “Do you think I am a monkey? Of course it’s new. It cost 50,000 cash oh ko!” The 50,000 was an exaggeration but the cash wasn’t and they both were well aware that it would be uncivilized not to exaggerate. The coat had cost him 14,000, through an intermediary, after much bargaining from a quai loh who had fallen on hard times and another 2,000 to the furrier who had overnight shortened and altered it enough to fit and not to be recognized, with a guarantee that the furrier would swear by all the gods that he had sold it under price at 42 even though it was actually worth 63,500.
“Paul,” Richard Kwang said importantly. “The Ho-Pak’s in better shape th—”
“Kindly shut up and listen,” Havergill said overriding him. “The time has come to make a serious decision—for you, not us. You can go under on Monday with nothing … I understand trading’s opening on your stock first thing.”
“But Sir Luis assured me th—”
“I heard it was open for trading, so by Monday night you’ll have no bank, no stock, no horses, no dollymoney to pay for mink coats for Venus P—”
“Eh?” Richard Kwang blanched, aware his wife was standing not twenty paces away, lugubriously watching them. “What mink coat?”
Havergill sighed. “All right, if you’re not interested.” He turned away but the banker caught him by the arm.
“5 cents is ridiculous. 80 is nearer what I can get on the open mar—”
“Perhaps I can go to 7.”
“7?” The banker began cursing, more to give himself time to think than anything. “I’ll agree to a merger. A seat on the bank’s board for ten years at a salary of f—”
“For five years, provided you give me your notarized resignation, undated, in advance, that you always vote exactly as I wish and at a salary equal to other directors’.”
“No resignation in adv—”
“Then so sorry no deal.”
“I agree to that clause,” Richard Kwang said grandly. “Now as to money. I th—”
“No. As to money, so sorry, Richard, I don’t want to enter into a protracted negotiation. The governor, the tai-pan and I agree we should rescue the Ho-Pak. It is decided. I will see you retain face. We guarantee to keep the takeover price secret and are quite prepared to call it a merger—oh by the way, I want to make the announcement at 5:00 P.M., just after the seventh race. Or not at all.” Havergill’s face was grim, but inside he was filled with glee. If it hadn’t been for Dunross’s announcement and the way it was being received he would have never considered doing the same. That bugger’s quite right! It is time to be innovative and who better than us? It’ll stop Southerby in his tracks and make us equal to Blacs at long last. With Struan’s in our pocket next week, by next year …
“57 cents and that’s a steal,” Kwang said.
“I’ll go to 10 cents.”
Richard Kwang wheedled and twisted and almost wept and inside he was ecstatic with the chance of the bail-out. Dew neh loh moh, he wanted to shout, a few minutes ago I wouldn’t be able to pay for Butterscotch Lass’s feed next week let alone the diamond ring and now I’m worth at least $3½ million U.S. and with judicious manipulation much more. “30 by all the gods!”
“11.”
“I’ll have to commit suicide,” he wailed. “My wife will commit suicide, my children will…”
“Your pardon, Lord,” his Chinese trainer said in Cantonese, coming up to him. “The race’s put back ten minutes. Are there any instructions you wa—”
“Can’t you see I’m busy, toad-belly! Go away!” Richard Kwang hissed in Cantonese with more obscenities, then said to Havergill, a final abject plea, “30, Mr. Havergill, and you’ll have saved a poor man and his fam—”
“18 and that’s final!”
“25 and it’s a deal.”
“My dear fellow, so sorry but I must place a bet. 18. Yes or no?”
Richard Kwang kept up a pathetic patter but he was estimating his chances. He had seen the flash of irritation on his opponent’s face. Dirty lump of dogmeat! Is now the time to close? Between now and five o’clock this leper dung could change his mind. If the tai-pan’s got all this new financing perhaps I could … No, no chance. 18’s three times as good as the opening bid! It’s clear you are a clever fellow and a good negotiator, he chortled to himself. Has the time come to close?
He thought of Venus Poon, how she had abused his expensive gift and deliberately brushed her exquisite breasts against Four Fingers’s arm, and tears of rage welled from his eyes.
“Oh oh oh,” he said in an abject whisper, delighted that his stratagem to produce real tears had worked so well. “20, by all the gods, and I’m your slave forever.”
“Good,” Havergill said, very contentedly. “Come to my box at quarter to five. I’ll have a provisional letter of agreement ready for signature—and your undated resignation. At five we’ll announce the merger, and Richard, until that time not a whisper! If the news leaks, the deal is off.”
“Of course.”
Havergill nodded and left and Richard Kwang walked back to his wife.
“What’s going on?”
“Quiet!” he hissed. “I’ve agreed to a merger with the Victoria.”
“At what price for our holdings?”
He lowered his voice even more. “20 cents on the, er, official book value.”
Glee
“Of course. And a directorship for five years an—”
“Eeee, our face will be huge!”
“Yes. Now listen, we’ve got until five today to make some private deals on Ho-Pak stock. We must buy in today—at fire-sale prices before every dogmeat gambler steals our rightful profits from us. We can’t do it ourselves or others’ll instantly suspect. Who can we use?”
She thought for a moment. Again her eyes gleamed. “Profitable Choy. Give him 7 percent of anything he makes for us.”
“I’ll offer 5 to begin with, perhaps I can settle for 6½ percent! Excellent! And I’ll also use Smiler Ching, he’s a pauper now. He lost everything. Between the two of them … I’ll meet you back at the box.” Importantly he turned away and went to his trainer and carefully kicked him in the shin. “Oh so sorry,” he said for the benefit of those nearby who might have seen him, then hissed, “Don’t interrupt me when I’m busy, you cheating lump of dogmeat turd! And if you cheat me like you cheated Big Belly Tok I’ll—”
“But I told you about that, Lord,” the man said sourly. “He knew about it too! Wasn’t it his idea? Didn’t you both make a fortune?”
“Oh ko, if my horse doesn’t win this race I’ll ask my Uncle Four Fingers to send his street fighters and mash your Heavenly Orbs!”
A sprinkle of rain swept the paddock and they all looked anxiously at the sky. In the stands and on the balconies above, everyone was equally anxious. The shower turned into a slight drizzle and on the members’ balcony Orlanda quivered, tense with excitement.
“Oh Linc, I’m going to bet now.”
“You’re sure?” he asked with a laugh for she had been agonizing over her decision all afternoon, first Pilot Fish then Noble Star, then a hot tip, the outsider Winning Billy, and back to Butterscotch Lass again. The odds were even on Butterscotch Lass, 3 to 1 on both Pilot Fish and Noble Star—the moment Travkin was announced the money started pouring on—6 to 1 on Golden Lady, the rest hardly in the running. The total amount so far at risk was a staggering 4,700,000 HK. “How much are you going to bet?”