Hershey dialled the number stored in the phone’s memory and not his own. It was answered almost immediately. “Hershey, hi!” The words gushed out like a torrent. “I’ve done it. I’ve kicked Josh out.”
“It’s over, Claire,” he said, cutting straight to the very sharp point.
Claire paused, hearing the words but not believing them. “What?”
“We’re through.”
“You can’t be serious! We’re the real thing!”
“I am and we’re not.”
“What about the contract?”
“What contract?”
“The contract you fucking signed for P&R PR to rebrand the Bank.”
“Oh, that contract! It never existed.”
There was a horrible silence as the enormity of what Hershey was telling her sank in.
“I’m going to lose my job,” she whispered. “Patricia will fire me for this.”
“What a pity,” Hershey said, clearly not meaning a word of it.
“I’ve just dumped Josh.”
“Maybe he’ll take you back.”
“I don’t want him back.”
“Then you’re on your own.”
“You fucking bastard,” she hissed.
“You got that right!” he said and cut the call as Claire emitted a piercing shriek. He grinned, then crossed the last name off his list.
Culpepper was less than thrilled when his phone rang. He considered ignoring it, the sound was interrupting the minor pleasure he was deriving from watching the lights of the sporadic traffic flowing along the street far below him. But he couldn’t do it; he was a man that needed to know what was going on all around him, all the time, to be in control of everything, even a telephone call.
He picked up the receiver. “Yes,” he said tersely.
“Ian, it’s me.”
‘Me’ being Sir David Cowan, the most senior (in all respects) of the Bank’s Board members and one of the few people Culpepper held a degree of respect for. And a measure of fear. Before Culpepper could respond Sir David ploughed on. “It’s come to my attention the Bank is suffering a financial anomaly.”
“What the fuck are you talking about, David?”
“It’s Sir David,” Cowan said and went on to explain what the fuck he was talking about.
When he’d finished reaming Culpepper out he abruptly ended the call. The Chairman dropped his mobile onto the surface of his desk with a thud, a death knell for sure. He’d been given the terrible news that there was sure to be a police investigation into embezzlement, bribery and corruption at the Bank, his Bank. There would be an Extraordinary Board Meeting in two days’ time, to which he was being summoned to explain himself. The conversation was matter-of-fact, so much so that Culpepper knew he was right in the shit. A tight knot formed in the pit of his stomach, an utterly alien feeling of...dread. He forced it down and the horror blossomed into rage.
Even though Cowan hadn’t said it outright he knew who’d been responsible for this. How fucking dare he, Culpepper raged. How could Valentine go up against him, the man who’d made the bastard into what he was? Everything Valentine had was due to him and him alone.
Well, he wasn’t down and out, not just yet. He made a series of calls of his own, all on a second mobile he pulled out of his briefcase, the number of which only the closest of his close allies had. Valentine was going to pay. And in spades.
Hershey was shattered when he finally left his office. Shattered but at the same time utterly elated. With a few conversations he’d cut out every cancer in his corporate body and as a result given himself an unimpeded route to the very upper echelons of the Bank.
His phone rang. He sighed. Elodie again. He’d have to think of something to put her off, and permanently. Google would probably throw up something useful.
He grinned. He struggled to remember another day that had been so satisfying and so rewarding. It was only up from here, he thought as he rode the elevator down to the basement garage.