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Authors: Jeffrey Archer

Tags: #Children of immigrants, #Children of immigrants - United States, #Westerns, #General, #Romance, #Sagas, #Fiction, #Businesswomen

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BOOK: The Prodigal Daughter
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“Fifteen
percent over five years.”

“Fifteen
percent?” repeated Richard, shocked.

“The Baron Group
is not a charity, Richard, and as long as I am president it is not in business
to prop up ailing banks. We are hoteliers by trade and have shown a seventeen
percent return on our money over the past thirty years. If we loaned you
forty-five million, could you pay it back in five years at fifteen percent?”

Richard
hesitated, scribbled some figures on the pad in front of him and checked his
file before he spoke. “Yes, I am confident we could repay every penny in five
years, even assuming the African contract is a total write-off,” he said
quietly.

“I think we must
treat the contract precisely that way,” said George. “My informants tell me
that the former head of state, King Erobo, has escaped to London and taken up
residence at Claridge’s and is looking at a house that’s for sale in Chelsea
Square. It appears he has more money stash
‘ ed
away
in Switz erland than anyone other than the Shah, so I feel he’s unlikely to
return to Africa in a hurry-and I can’t say I blame him.” Richard tried to
smile as George continued. “Subject to all you have told us being confirmed by
the Baron’s auditors, I agree to
covering
~he African
loan on the terms stated, and I wish you luck, Richard. I’ll also let you in on
a little secret: Abel didn’t like Ji&e Thomas any more than you do, which
is what tipped the balance for me.” George closed his file. I hope you will
both excuse me now as I have a lunch appointment with Conrad Hilton and he has
never once been late in thirty years.”

When George had
closed the door behind him, Richard turned to Florentyna.

“Jesus, whose
side does he think he’s on?”

‘~
Ours
,” replied Florentyna. “Now I know why my father happily
trusted him to run the Group while he went off to fight the
German,,.”

A statement in
The Wall Street Journal the following day confirming that the Baron Group had
underwritten Lester’s loans caused the bank’s stocks to rise again, and Richard
settled down to what be called “my five years of drudgery.”

“What are you
going to do about Jake Thomas?”

“Ignore him,”
said Richard. “Time is on my side. No bank in New York will employ him once
it’s known he is willing to run to the press whenever he has a disagreement
with his past employe~rs.”

“But how will
anyone ever find out?”

“Darling, if The
Wall Street Journal knows, everybody knows.”

Richard turned
out to be right; the whole story was repeated back to him over a lunch he had with
a director of Bankers Trust only a week later.

The director
went on to remark, “That man’s broken the golden rule of banking. From now on,
he’ll find it hard to open a checking account.”

William
recovered from his bums far more quickly than Florentyna had expected and
returned to school a few days later with a scar on his handloo small to impress
his friends. For the first feNk days after the accident Annabel looked away
every time she saw the scar and seemed genuinely contrite.

“Do you think
he’s forgiven me?” she asked her mother.

“Of
course, my darling.
William is just like his fatherforgets any quarrel
by the next morning.”

Florentyna
considered that the time had come for her to make a tour of the Baron hotels in
Europe. Her staff worked out a detailed itinerary that took in Rome, Paris,
Madrid, Lisbon, West Berlin, Amsterdam, Stockholm, London and even Warsaw. She
felt a new confidence in leaving George in controi, she told Richard as they
were driven to the airport. He agreed and then reminded Florentyna that they
had never been apart for as long as three weeks since the day they had met.

“You’ll survive,
darling.”

“I’ll Iniss you,
Jessie.”

“Now, don’t you
get all
sentimental.
You know that I have to work for
the rest of my life to make sure that my husband can continue posing as
chairman of a New York bank.”

“I love you,”
said Richard.

“I love you
too,” said Florentyna. “But you still owe me forty-five million and fifty-six
dollars.”

“Where does the
fifty-six come from?” said Richard.

“From
our (lays in San Francisco.
You’ve never repaid me
that
fifty-six dollars I lent you before we were married.”

“You said it was
a dowry.”

“No, you said it
was a dowry. I said it was a loan. I think I’ll have to take George’s advice
about how it should be repaid as soon as I ieturn.

Perhaps fifteen
percent over five years would seem reasonable, Mr. Kane, which means you must
now owe me around four hundred dollars.” She leaned up and kissed him goodbye.

Richard wai
driven back to New York by the chauffeur and on arrival at his office he
immediately phoned Cartier’s in London. He gave clear instructions as to what
he required and said it had to be ready in eighteen days.

When the time
had come for Richard to prepare his annual general report for the bank, the red
African figure maddened him. Without it, Lester’s would have shown a healthy
profit: so much for hoping he would beat Jake Thomas’s figures in his first
year. All that the stockholders would remember was a thumping loss compared
with 1970.

Richard followed
Florentyna’s detailed schedule with interest every day and made sure he caught
up with her by phone at least once in every capital. She seemed pleased by most
of what she had seen, and although she had a few ideas for changes, she had to
admit that the hotels on the Continent were well run by the Group’s European
directors. Any excess expenditure had been caused by
her own
demands for higher standards of architecture. When she phoned from Paris,
Richard passed on the news that William had won the class mathematics prize and
that he was now confident that his son would be accepted by St. Paul’s. And
since the hot water incident Annabel had tried a little harder at school and
had even scraped herself off the bottom of the class.

It was the best
news Richard had given her.

“Where’s your
next stop?” Richard asked.

“London,” she
replied.

“Great. I’ve got
a feeling I know someone you’ll want to call when you’re there,” he said with a
chuckle, and went to bed feeling better than he had for some days.

He heard from
Florentyna much earlier than he had expected. Around six o’clock the next
morning, Richard was in a deep sleep, dreaming that he and Major Abanjo were
having a shoot-out Richard pulled the trigger, the bullet fired off. Then the
phone rang. He woke up and lifted the receiver, expecting to hear Major
Abanjo’s last words.

“I love you.”

“What?” he said.

“I love vou.”

“Jessie.
do
you know what time it is?”

“A
few rninutes after twelve.”


It’s
eigit minutes past six in New York.”

“I only wanted to
tell you how much I love my diamond brooch.”

Richard smiled.

“I’m going to
wear it to lunch with Sir Colin and Lady Emson. They’re due any minute to take
me to the Mirabelle, so I must say goodbye.
Talk to you
tornorrow-my today.”

“You’re a nut.”

“By the way, I
don’t know if it’s of any interest to you, but there’s a reporter on the midday
news here in England saying something about a certain Major Abanjo being killed
in a countercoup in some Central African state and the old king returning home
tomorrow to a hero’s welcome.”

“What?

“The king is
just being interviewed now so I’ll repeat what he’s saying.

‘My government
intends to honor all the debts it has incurred with our friends in the Western
world.”‘

“What?” repeated
Richard,
once again, “He looks like such a nice fellow
now that he’s got the crown back on his head. Good night, Mr. Kane. Sleep
well.”

As Richard was
leaping up and down on his bed, there was a knock on Florentyna’s door, and Sir
Colin and Lady Emson came into her suite.

The Present: 1968-1982
233

“Are you ready,
young lady?” asked Sir Colin.

“I am,” said
Florentyna.

“You look very
pleased with yourself. No doubt the reinstatement of King Erobo has brought the
roses back to your cheeks.”

“Well informed
as you are, Sir Colin, that is not the reason,” said Florentyna as she glanced
down at the card that
lay
on the table in front of her
and read the words again.

I hope that this
will be acceptable security until I can return the fifty-six dollars, plus
interest.

Mr. Kane

“What a lovely
brooch you’re wearing,” said Lady Emson. “It’s a donkey, isn’t it? Does that
signify anything in particular?”

“It certainiv
does, Lady Emson. It means the giver intends to vote for Nixon again.”

“Then you have
to give him elephant cuff links in return,” said Sir Colin.

“You know,
Richard was right: it doesn’t pay to underestimate the British,” said
Florentyna,
After
lujich, Florentyna phoned Miss
Tredgold at her school. The school secretary put her through to the staff room.
Miss Tredgold, it turned out, did not need to be informed about the late Major
Abanjo but seemed more interested in all the news about William and Annabel.
Florentyna’s second call was to Sotheby’s-this time in person. On arrival she
asked to see one of the department heads.

“It may be many years
before such an item will come under the hammer, Mrs. Kane,” the expert told
her, “I understand,” said Florentyna. “But please let me know the moment it
does.”

“Certainly,
madam,” said the expert as he wrote down Flo-’ rentyna’s name and address.

When Florentyna
returned to New York after her three weeks she settled down to implementing the
changes she had been considering on her European tour. By the end of 1972, with
her energy, George’s wisdom and Gianni di Ferranti’s genius, she was able to
show an increased profit. Thanks to King Erobo, who proved as good as his word,
Richard was not far behind her.

On the night of
the annual stockholders’ meeting, Richard, Florentyna aud George went out for a
celebration dinner. Even though George had officially retired on his
sixty-fifth birthday, he still came into the office every morning at eight
o’clock. It had taken only twenty-four hours for everyone at the Baron to
realize that “retirement party” had been a misnomer. Florentyna began to
appreciate how lonely George must be now that he had lost most of his
contemporaries and how close he had been to her father. She never once
suggested that he should slow down, because she knew it was pointless, and it
gave her particular happiness whenever George took Annabel and William on an
outing. Both the children called him “Grandpapa,” which brought tears to his
eyes and always guaranteed them a double-scoop ice cream cone.

Florentyna
thought she knew how much George did for the Group, but the truth came home to
her only after his retirement could no longer be postponed. George died
peacefully in his sleep in October 1973. In his will, he left everything to the
Polish Red Cross and a short note addressed to Richard, asking him to act as
his executor.

Richard carried out
George’s every wish to the letter and even traveled to Warsaw accompanied by
Florentyna to meet the president of the Polish Red Cross and discuss how
George’s donation could best to put to use.

When they
returned to New York, Florentyna sent a directive to all managers in the Group
that the finest suite in each hotel was no longer to be the Presidential Suite
but was to be renamed the “George Novak Suite,” When Richard woke the morning
after they had returned from Warsaw, Florentyna, who had been waiting
impatiently for him to open his eyes, told her husband that although George had
taught her so much in life, he had now added to her learning even in death.

“What are you
talking about?”

“George left
everything he had to charity but never once referred to the fact that my father
rarely made charitable conttibutions other than the occasional gift to
Polish
or political causes. I’m every bit as remiss myself,
and if you hadn’t added a footnote to the Group’s annual general report
concerning tax relief for charitable donations, I would never have given the
matter a second thought.”

“Well, I’m sure
you’re not planning for something after your death. What do you have in mind?”

“Why don’t we
set up a foundation in memory of both our fathers? Let’s bring the two families
together. What they failed to do in their lifetime, let us do in ours.”

Richard sat up
and stared at his wife as she got out of bed and continued to talk as she
walked toward the bathroom.

BOOK: The Prodigal Daughter
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