Page 35 of End Game (William Warwick #8)

‘H AVE YOU HEARD THE NEWS ?’ asked Christina, as she poured herself a cup of coffee.

‘No,’ said Wilbur, looking over the top of yesterday’s copy of the New York Times . ‘What have you been up to this time?’ he asked. ‘Finally killed off your ex-husband?’

‘Good idea,’ said Christina, ‘but that may have to wait until after this evening’s board meeting.

No, it’s Artemisia – and it’s double good news, in fact.

Firstly, Beth tells me that she and Robert are finally engaged, and secondly, Artemisia’s landed her second front-page scoop.

’ Christina handed Wilbur her copy of the Daily Mail .

Wilbur took his time reading the article, his smile broadening with each paragraph. ‘The New York Times has been reporting their suspicions about the Russians for the past year,’ he said, ‘and now Artemisia has trumped them.’

‘Of course she has,’ said Christina. ‘She’s the daughter of her mother.’

‘I think you’ll find,’ said Wilbur, ‘that William was somehow involved in her creation, but I agree Arte should be proud, because her piece is a first-class example of investigative journalism.’

‘Although she’ll be distressed by the final outcome,’ said Christina. ‘God knows where that brave young woman is while we’re enjoying coffee and croissants in Chelsea.’

‘That’s hardly Artemisia’s fault,’ said Wilbur. ‘She wasn’t the one who made the decision to expose their rotten system, and Ms Korova will have been well aware of the risk she was taking.’

Christina sighed. ‘Artemisia won’t see it that way, but I’m glad she has Robert to comfort her. I think I’ll give her a call.’

‘And don’t forget to offer my congratulations, too,’ said Wilbur, as he poured his wife a cup of coffee.

‘And dare I ask,’ he continued, turning to a different subject, ‘if you haven’t already murdered your ex-husband, have you decided whether to back him in his desire to join the board of the Fitzmolean? ’

‘I can’t make up my mind,’ admitted Christina, as she cracked an egg. ‘I have to ask myself, if I were to try and prevent him from taking a place on the board, would I be responsible for jeopardizing the museum’s chances of inheriting a unique private collection?’

‘My bet,’ said Wilbur, ‘is that offer is nothing more than a sprat to catch a mackerel, and you’re about to discover just how many mackerels you have on your board.’

‘But my term of office ends in December,’ Christina reminded him, ‘so do I have the right to try and prevent him joining the board? Even though I’ve no doubt Miles has an ulterior motive for wanting to be a board member.’

Wilbur finally abandoned his newspaper, drained his coffee, and said, ‘Like what?’

‘If I knew that, my darling,’ said Christina, ‘I’d know how to cast my vote.’

···

‘I’m only sorry,’ said Christina, ‘that it has proved necessary to call this emergency board meeting at such short notice, but when you learn why, I think you’ll agree that, as chair, I wasn’t left with a great deal of choice.’

The eight board members sat in silence around the table, listening intently.

‘I’ll ask our director to brief you,’ said Christina.

Beth was seated in her usual place at the far end of the table.

She opened the file in front of her and began to read a well-prepared statement.

‘You are all aware that as part of our Olympic exhibition, we currently have on loan a Vincent Van Gogh self-portrait. Since receiving that painting, we have been informed by the Russian Embassy that when the exhibition is over, this particular painting should not be sent back to St Petersburg with the rest of the Hermitage collection, but should be handed over to Mr Miles Faulkner, no less.’

Christina noticed that one or two of the board didn’t seem surprised, while the others began to chat among themselves.

It was some time before they settled enough for Christina to take back control.

‘As you all know,’ she began, ‘Miles Faulkner is my ex-husband, and I can assure you he is not a man to be dealt with lightly. He has been in prison for various crimes in the past, although – I must admit – not for some years.’ She took a long pause before adding, ‘He has also written a letter to the director concerning the Van Gogh that you should be made aware of.’

Members were now sitting on the edge of their seats.

Christina looked across at Beth, who replaced one letter with another. ‘Mr Faulkner has written to let me know he will make arrangements to collect the Van Gogh at our convenience. He added that he wasn’t in any hurry, should we wish to continue displaying it.’

‘How very generous of him,’ commented one board member, who was well aware of what was coming next.

‘He went on to say,’ continued Beth, reading directly from the letter, ‘that he remained a great admirer of the Fitzmolean and, with that in mind, he has decided to rewrite his Will and leave his entire collection to the museum.’

‘Bravo,’ declared one board member, a little too loudly, while a couple of others began to applaud. It was some time before Beth could read the final paragraph of the letter.

‘However, this offer comes with a caveat,’ she said, which quickly brought the board members back to order. She looked back down at the letter. ‘Mr Faulkner hopes that, given the circumstances, you might consider inviting him to join the board.’

This caused an even noisier outburst of chattering, which left Christina in no doubt that the board was divided.

‘Of course, the offer is incredibly generous,’ Christina conceded, once order had again been restored, ‘but we should remember that Mr Faulkner has it in his power to rewrite his Will at any time in the future.’ She didn’t add: as he has done to my knowledge on several occasions in the past.

‘I, for one,’ said Lady Morland, ‘am willing to take Mr Faulkner at his word, and I’m bound to ask if there is any reason to believe he hasn’t made the offer in good faith?’

‘None that I’m aware of,’ admitted Christina, ‘but that’s not something I personally would feel confident we can rely on in the future.

However, as I am standing down as your chairman at the end of the year, I felt I should leave it to the board to make such a far-reaching decision.

’ She turned her attention to the company secretary.

‘Given the circumstances, Mr Parker, perhaps you would guide us on the procedure we should take.’

‘I feel I should point out from the outset, Chair,’ said the company secretary, as he rose from his place, ‘that this decision cannot be made with a single vote, but will require the board to vote twice. Firstly, to decide if we should accept Mr Faulkner’s generous offer to donate his collection to the museum, and then, if the board felt able to agree on that, a second vote would be necessary to determine whether Mr Faulkner should be invited to join the board. ’

‘I fear one depends on the other,’ said Christina quietly, ‘but let’s at least find out if this matter can be easily resolved.’

‘I’ll need a proposer for the first motion,’ said the board secretary.

A hand shot up.

‘Mrs McBride,’ he said, writing down her name in the minutes book, ‘and a seconder.’

Lady Morland didn’t hesitate to raise her hand.

The secretary added her name before he looked up and enquired, ‘Those in favour of accepting Mr Faulkner’s offer to donate his collection to the museum in his Will?’

Five hands were raised immediately.

‘Those against?’

A single hand went up.

‘I declare the motion carried by five votes to one, with three abstentions,’ declared Parker.

Chattering broke out once again, but quickly ceased when Parker continued.

‘The second motion,’ said Mr Parker, ‘is that we should invite Mr Faulkner to join the board. Those in favour?’

Only three hands were raised this time.

‘Against?’

Three more hands went up.

‘The second motion,’ said the secretary, ‘has resulted in a tie of three votes each, with once again three abstentions, which leaves you, Madam Chair, with the casting vote.’

Three board members looked pleased, as they were sure they knew which side Christina would come down on, while three others looked disappointed.

‘Before I cast my vote, can I convince either of the other two abstainers to change their minds?’ asked Christina, looking around hopefully. She waited, as one member appeared to hesitate but, to Christina’s dismay, four hands remained resolutely below the table.

‘The director,’ continued Christina, ‘had fully briefed me on the situation, so I have had some time to consider my position should the crucial vote end in a stalemate. As my term of office comes to an end in only a few months, it is with a heavy heart that I cast my vote in favour of Mr Faulkner being invited to join the board. I can only hope the rewards will outweigh my reservations.’

A small round of applause followed, while the rest of the board remained silent.

‘Then the motion is carried by four votes to three, with two abstentions,’ declared the company secretary.

Christina waited once again for the voices to be still, before she said, ‘Is there any other business?’

‘Yes, Madam Chair,’ said Beth. ‘In view of the board’s decision, I have been left with no choice but to resign as your director.’