Shasa owned a prime piece of real estate on the corner of Diagonal Street opposite the stock exchange and within yelling distance of Anglo American Corporation's head office, he hadn't yet got around to building on it; any spare money in the company always seemed to be earmarked for mining options or extensions or other income-producing enterprises.
The young blood on the Courtney executive board was judicially leavened with a few grey heads. Doctor Twenty-man-Jones was still there, in an old-fashioned black alpaca jacket and string tie, hiding his affection for Shasa behind a mournful expression. He had run the very first prospect on the H'am diamond mine for Centaine back in the early twenties and was one of the three most experienced and gifted mining consultants in southern Africa, which meant the world.
David's father Abraham Abrahams was still head of the legal section, perched up beside his son, bright and chirpy as a little silver sparrow. His files were piled high on the table in front of him, but he seldom had to refer to them. With half a dozen other newcomers whom Centaine and Shasa between them had hand-picked, it was a balanced and functional team.
'Let's talk about the Courtney chemical plant at Chaka's Bay first.' Shasa brought the meeting to order. 'How much meat is there in the beef against us, Abe?' 'We are running hot sulphuric acid into the sea at a rate of between eleven and sixteen tons per day at a concentration of one in ten thousand,' Abe Abrahams told him matter-of-factly. 'I've had an independent marine biologist do a report on it for us.' He tapped the document. 'It isn't good. We have altered the pH for five miles along the coastline:' 'You haven't circulated this report?' Shasa asked sharply.
'What do you think?' Abe shook his head.
'All right, David. What will it cost us to modify the manufficturing procedure on the fertilizer division to dispose of the acid waste some other way?' 'There are two possible modifications,' David told him. 'The simplest and cheapest is trucking the effluent in tankers, but then we have to find another dumping ground. The ideal solution is recycling the acid.' 'Costs?' 'One hundred thousand pounds per annum for the tankers - one shot of almost three times that for the other way.' 'A year's profits down the drain,' Shasa said. 'That's not acceptable.
ii!i iiii 'il Who is this Pearson woman that is heading up the protest? Can we reason with her?' Abe shook his head. 'We have tried.
She is holding the whole committee together. Without her they would crumble.' 'What is her position?' 'Her husband owns the local bakery.' 'Buy it,' said Shasa. 'If he won't sell, let him know discreetly that we will open another bakery in competition and subsidize its product.
I want this Pearson woman far away and long ago. Any questions?' He looked down the table. Everybody was busy making notes, nobody looked at him and he wanted to ask them reasonably, 'All right, gentlemen, are you prepared to spend three hundred thousand pounds to give a good home to the oysters and the sea urchins of Chaka's Bay?' 'No questions!' he nodded instead. 'All right, let's take on the big one now. Silver River.' They all shifted in their seats, and there was simultaneous and nervous exhalation of breath.
'Gentlemen, we have all read and studied Dr Twenty-man-Jones's geological report based on his drilling on the property. It is a superb piece of work, and I don't have to tell you that it's the best opinion you'll get on Harley Street. Now I want to hear from each of you your own opinions as departmental heads. Can we start with you, Rupert?' Rupert Horn was the junior member of the executive team. As treasurer and chief accountant he filled in the financial background.
'If we let the option lapse, we shall be writing off the two point three million that we have spent on exploration over the last eighteen months. If we take up the option it will mean an initial payment of four million on signature.' 'We can cover that from the rainy-day account,' Shasa intervened.
'We are holding four point three million in the provisional fund,' Rupert Horn agreed. 'We have it invested in Escom 7% Stock at present, but once we utilize that fund we will be in an extremely exposed position.' One after the other, in ascending order of seniority, Shasa's managers gave their views as seen from their own departments, and David put it all together at the end.
'So it seems that we have twenty-six days remaining on the option, and four million to pay if we take it up. That is going to leave us bare'hummed, and facing development costs of three million pounds for the main shaft alone, plus another five million for plant, interest and running costs to see us into the production phase, four years from now in 1956.' He stopped and they all watched intently while Shasa selected a cigarette and tapped it lightly on the lid of his gold case.
Shasa's expression was deadly serious. He knew better than any of them that the decision could destroy the company or take it up onto a new high plateau, and nobody could make that decision for him.
He was up on the lonely pinnacle of command.
'We know there is gold down there,' he spoke at last. 'A thick rich reef of it. If we reach it, it will go on producing for the next fifty years. However, gold is standing at thirty-five dollars an ounce. The Americans have pegged it, they have threatened to keep the price there for all time. Thirty-five dollars an ounce - and it will cost us between twenty and twenty-five an ounce to go down that deep and bring it to the surface. A slim margin, gentlemen, much too slim.' He lit the cigarette, and they all sighed and relaxed, at the same time disappointed and relieved. It would have been glorious to make the charge, but disastrous to have failed. Now they would never know. But Shasa hadn't finished. He blew a spinning smoke-ring down the length of the table, and went on.
'However, I don't think the Americans are going to be able to keep the lid on the gold price much longer. Their hatred of gold is emotional, not based on economic reality. I know, deep down in my guts, that the day is not far off when we will see gold at sixty dollars and one day, sooner than any of us think, it will be a hundred and fifty dollars - perhaps even two hundred!' They stirred with disbelief, and Twenty-man-Jones looked as though he might break down and weep in the face of such wild optimism, but Shasa ignored him and turned to Abe Abrahams.
'Abe, at noon on the eighteenth of next month, twelve hours before the option expires, you will hand over a cheque for four million to the owners of Silver River farms, and take possession of the property in the name of a company to be formed.' Shasa turned to David.
'At the same time we will simultaneously open subscription lists on the Johannesburg and London stock exchanges for ten million ?1 shares in the Silver River gold-mining property. You and Doctor Twenty-man-Jones will start today drawing up the prospectus.
Courtney Mining will register the property in the name of the new company in return for the balance of five million shares transferred into our name. We will also be responsible for the management and development.' Quickly, succinctly, Shasa laid out the structure, financing and management of the. new company, and more than once these wily seasoned campaigners glanced up from their notepads in blatant admiration of some deft and unusual touch he added to the scheme.
'Is there anything I have left out?' Shasa asked at the end, and when they shook their heads, he grinned. David
