Payback Read Online Free PDF Page A

opportunistically kept in touch as part of his relentless networking and, on coming to London, soon won a series of assignments from the man’s portfolio of businesses interests.
    When Barton later become a Foreign Office Minister, he had to distance himself from day-to-day control of his companies. To circumvent this, he made Tom a director, still pulling the strings as the major shareholder, having also moved his assets—including the Manor—safely offshore. At the time of the bankruptcy, WMC had itself been an unsecured creditor and, owed £300,000 in fees and costs, unsurprisingly refused to have any more to do with him. Tom, however, agreed to continue in a personal capacity and at his own risk, for two days a week, negotiating his contract down accordingly with WMC. They had acquiesced to this only after Tom described Barton’s determination to clear his debts and prove himself again. If Tom was right, it seemed the only way they would ever see their money again.
    The arrangement had suited everyone well. Retaining Tom as a consultant and trustee meant that despite the bankruptcy restrictions, he could still act as a director by proxy. As for Tom, he had share options appreciating nicely, and still enjoyed the challenges James’s eclectic businesses threw up. Most recently this had included their takeover of a small investment house, and poaching a crack treasury management team to handle the huge funds now flowing through their new Curaçao company.
    For him, Barton had meant consistent excitement, challenge, real operational influence—something normally denied consultants—as well as the chance of earning serious capital for himself. Despite the bullying side of Barton’s nature, the unique experience and influence to which he was exposed through the man’s businesses had spoiled him for anything else.
    ‘ But on to business...’ Tom said seriously, sitting opposite Barton by the fire. ‘The word from the City isn’t good.’ There was never a good time to bring Barton news he did not want to hear. Get it over quickly, that was always the best approach. ‘Two more investment house fund managers want out of the stock. And they were our last two “holds”. Come tomorrow, when their circulars hit the screens, we’ll have a clean sweep of “sell” recommendations.’
    Barton looked surprisingly relaxed at the news. One was Temple Bio-Laboratories’s own broker. For them to rank the stock a ‘sell’ was doubly disastrous. ‘So, I take it another rights issue would be out of the question?’ he joked.
    ‘ They were left picking up over fifty per cent of the last one they underwrote,’ Tom reminded him needlessly. He was worried at Barton’s jocular reaction to a scenario which could very easily escalate the business into receivership, with all the now familiar nightmares which went with it. The bank held an £80 million debenture in the massively geared UK and US quoted biotech company, with no sign of how it would ever be repaid. But now he could hear Maddie and the twins coming down the staircase. ‘We’ll pick up on this after lunch, shall we? It’s real serious this time.’
    Barton stood up, a twinkle in his eye. ‘Don’t worry about it. The cavalry is just over the hill. Arriving any moment,’ he said, enigmatically.
    ‘ What do you mean?’
    ‘ I mean we’re almost ready to tell the world about starting clinical trials on the biggest medical breakthrough since...since Mrs Pasteur burned the milk.’ He barked a laugh.
    ‘ What breakthrough? The transgenic pigs? They already know about all that—’
    Serious now, Barton looked directly at him. ‘No. Not our genetically engineered porker friends. No, Tom. There are some things so secret I don’t even tell you about. But we’re close. So close to it now.’
    Tom was furious to discover that as a director he had been excluded. Given his punishing workload on his WMC clients, on top of Barton’s businesses—still in theory only