Reunion - Prologue

By raetsel
- 1999 reads
Reunion
by Simon Stanford
#
Prologue
Anthony Korda looked at his watch and checked the time. It was 18:25, exactly the same time as shown on the central clock of the large world map that filled one wall of his outer office.
He was waiting to see someone , someone he didn't really want to see. This was an unusual set of circumstances for him. He was a very rich man and wasn't used to having to do things he didn't want to do anymore. He was something of a recluse these days. Not a "Howard Hughes, crazy hair and bottles of wee in the cupboard" sort of recluse, more the "I pay people very large sums of money to keep people away" sort of recluse.
Over the years as he had amassed his fortune Anthony Korda had become increasingly weary of having to deal with the people who wanted to sell him something or people who wanted him to buy something never mind all the inevitable sycophants and hangers on associated with doing business. Thus he had appointed a very capable chief executive and though he still called the shots he had technically taken on the role of chairman of Korda Holdings.
This left him time to enjoy his interests and only attend the occasional board meeting for an hour or two a month. Aside from that he had a very small and intimate circle of friends who, being for the most part equally rich, were able to get past his own vast wealth and just appreciate him for who he was.
Now again however Anthony Korda found himself having to meet with someone he didn't really want to. Usually it was some key business contact for a deal who insisted in dealing only with the top man. This was mainly so the individual concerned could garner the cachet of saying he'd had a meeting with the brilliant but reclusive Korda. In such cases when the chief executive had tried all other avenues then Mr Korda, as all his staff called him, would be asked if he could find the time for the meeting and a suitable venue would be found, usually a suite at a nearby hotel. Anthony Korda would fly in conduct the meeting and leave that same day usually. By private jet and or helicopter of course.
Only very, very occasionally would the person be invited out to the join Mr. Korda at his home on a privately owned island in the lagoon of Venice. Today he was meeting just such a person. It was so rare in fact that this was the first time it had happened in this particular chief executive's tenure. Some five years. The initial request for a meeting had come in through the private offices of Korda International and been dealt with by several levels of the hierarchy but in each case the correspondent had been insistent that the information he had could only be fully discussed with Mr Korda himself. Just as whoever was dealing with the request was about to brush the person off there would be some detail or hint at the information he or she had that would require the request to be passed further up the line. Usually it was reference to some business dealing that the particular employee had been involved with that had perhaps not been dealt with strictly in accordance with normal business practice or indeed the rules Mr Korda laid down for the conduct of his business...most of the time.
So it was that the request for a meeting had finally come to Joseph Carters the current CEO of Korda International. When he began dealing, via secure email, with the mystery correspondent there had been talk of a new product for the company that Mr Korda must see for himself as only he could truly appreciate its value.
Annoyed that he should be being bothered by a simple request to get a new product line into Korda International and wondering how he or she could have got this far Joseph sent an email giving full details of the secretary to the head of product development and suggesting that was the proper place to continue things. This had been met with a single line reply. "I would also like to discuss the finer details of the Linwood merger." When Carters saw that message he knew he had to approach Mr Korda to request a meeting. A little like the keywords terrorists used to authenticate their messages and warnings to news stations, there were certain projects whose profile and specific details that were such as to raise similar concern. The 'Linwood merger' a deal done some 12 years ago now when Anthony Korda was just starting out on his stationery empire building was the start of his move into the big league and a major coup at the time.
No one was quite sure why or how this relatively small time merchant had been able to pull off such a deal or where he had got his funding from. Now it was ancient history long since forgotten, buried under dozens of other skilful mergers and acquisitions that saw Korda International become a worldwide business services company.
When he took on the role of CEO, as part of the handover process from the previous incumbent, then retiring on a healthy pension, Joseph Carters had had an amiable lunch with his soon-to-be predecessor, completely off the record. Two business deals had been mentioned as being of special significance to Mr Korda and should anyone enquire about them and/or have a credible claim to information about them then the head man himself was to be informed.
The meeting had been arranged in a couple of days and Anthony Korda had been quite clear it was to take place in the boardroom at his home.
Korda smoothed back his immaculately coiffured hair over his temples even though it was not out of place. It was a gesture part of nervousness and part of annoyance at having to deal with the Linwood merger again. It was the making of him certainly but was he destined to spend the rest of his business career having to be ever watchful of the consequences of the exact nature of the deal becoming widely known?
There was a soft knock at the large double doors several metres of polished oak flooring away from where he stood in the middle of his sombrely decorated boardroom.
"Yes," said Korda. Straightening himself up and preparing to be at his most charming.
The doors swung outwards to admit a man of medium height and build, mid-brown hair, a plain side parting and somehow average non-descript features. He was dressed in a dark business suit, overcoat and black leather gloves. Held to his chest he had a black leather, unadorned document case that, by the look of it, did not contain many actual documents.
The visitor stepped forward and the doors closed silently and automatically behind him. The personal assistant to Mr Korda who had shown him in had retreated to an ante-chamber as soon as the doors had started to open. Taking a moment to look around and take in his surroundings the visitor began walking towards Mr. Korda, his gloved hand outstretched, a broad but closed lipped smile across his face.
"Anthony Korda. A great privilege to meet you," said the visitor as he approached.
Korda moved to meet him halfway and the pair exchanged a firm handshake.
"You too Mr..... Boomer," Korda paused for a moment as though he was recalling the name as though this was one of many meetings he was to hold and of no more or less significance that the other. Though in reality Korda was all too well aware of the name of the person he was meeting, not least because aside that and some of the most sketchy details that was all his security team had been able to find out about Andrew Boomer, 40 years old, private equity trader from London.
Korda wanted to get straight to heart of the matter and find exactly was Boomer knew about the Linwood deal and then how much he wanted to keep quiet about it. His private secretary had a suitcase ready to fill with the requisite sum in return for the signing of a most onerous and encumbering non-disclosure agreement that even old Nic himself would have been hard pushed to get out of.
"Mr Boomer have a seat and let's get down to business."
"Ah yes, business." Andrew Boomer took a seat in a high backed leather chair laid out at one corner of the enormous marble-topped table. There was a similar chair seated the other edge of the corner maintaining a suitably respectful distance between the two men whilst avoiding a more adversarial atmosphere that would have been created by having the seats separated by 2 metres of the finest Italian marble.
Korda sat down in the other chair whilst Boomer got out two small sheafs of papers in plain manilla folders. One was unmarked and the other was clearly labelled "Linwood" and Boomer laid this beside him making sure Korda could see the name clearly.
"I'm very sure you'd like to know what I know about the 'Linwood merger ' and the funding from shall we say 'alternative eastern' sources?". Korda licked his lips which seemed to have suddenly gone dry. Boomer knew the right noises to make certainly but Korda knew better than to make a judgement just on the basis of a couple of key phrases.
"First however, Mr Korda, I'd like you to consider a product development opportunity for the stationery arm of your business." Andrew Boomer opened the other unmarked folder to reveal a dozen or so sheets of plain A4 paper, white but with a slight sheen to their appearance that had a very slight off white or pale yellow tinge to it.
"This is it," said Boomer and he began to remove one of his gloves.
Korda raised an eyebrow in a puzzled expression.
"A4 paper? That is the development opportunity?"
"Not just any A4 paper, ' continued Boomer, "special paper", and with a quick sharp movement he picked up a sheet from the pile and drew it sharply across the web of skin between the thumb and forefinger of his un-gloved hand. A single small red spot of blood appeared, only to be instantly absorbed into the paper. Anthony Korda winced involuntarily and drew in his breath but Andrew Boomer made no move at all.
"It's quite alright Mr Korda, I never felt thing. This paper, you see, is impregnated with a small about of local anaesthetic and coagulant stopping the bleeding and relieving any pain almost instantly. That is my development opportunity."
Anthony Korda chuckled.
"That's your business development opportunity? Paper that protects you from paper cuts? It's ingenuous I grant you, but really?"
"Why don't you try it for yourself" said Boomer and before Korda could react he drew the edge of another sheet of across the knuckle of the left forefinger of Korda's hand resting on the cool marble. Korda withdrew his hand instantly by reflex action as he felt the sharp edge on his knuckle but then, before he could put it to his mouth, he realised it wasn't stinging at all and again there was just a single drop of blood spreading slightly on the piece of paper Boomer was replacing back in his folder.
"Yes, very clever. A very effective demonstration, if a little unorthodox."
"Ah well you know something of the unorthodox don't you? Mr Korda," said Boomer replacing his glove and taping his hand lightly on the folder marked 'Linwood' laid out in front of him.
"Ah yes," said Korda, his mouth feeling dry now. He reached a hand round his collar, he was feeling sightly uncomfortable. Had someone turned the heating up? A bead of sweat broke out his forehead and he mopped it away with the back of his hand.
"So in exchange for what you know about 'Linwood' if indeed you know anything significant,I have to take on this anaesthetic paper, is that it?"
"Not quite Mr Korda," said Boomer returning both folders to his document case, " you see the techniques used to impregnate the paper with the anaesthetic can equally be applied to many other chemical compounds." He stood up and smoothed out the creases from his overcoat.
"Including some very special poisons and neurotoxins." But Anthony Korda was no longer listening or rather no longer able to hear.
- Log in to post comments
Comments
My first response to this
- Log in to post comments