Reluctantly he sat beside her.
She reached out to stroke his cheek, but he flinched away.
'You can't take care of yourself,' she said. 'You've never been able to. That's why Micky and I have always looked after you, ever since you were at school.'
He looked even more obstinate. 'Perhaps it's time you stopped.'
A feeling of panic began to creep over Augusta. It was almost as if she was losing her grip.
Before she could say any more, Emily came back with a legal-looking document. She put it on the Moorish writing table, where pens and ink were already laid out.
Augusta looked at her son's face. Could it be that he was more afraid of his wife than of his mother? Augusta thought wildly about snatching the document away, throwing the pens on the fire and spilling the ink. She got a grip on herself. Better perhaps to give in and pretend it was of no great consequence. But the pretense would be useless: she had made a stand and forbidden this annulment, and everyone would know she had been defeated.
She said to Edward: 'You'll have to resign from the bank if you sign that document.'
'I don't see why,' he replied. 'It's not like a divorce.'
Emily said: 'The church has no objection to an annulment if the grounds are genuine.' It sounded like a quotation: she had obviously checked.
Edward sat at the table, selected a quill, and dipped its point into a silver inkwell.
Augusta fired her last shot. 'Edward!' she said in a voice quivering with rage. 'If you sign that I will never speak to you again!'
He hesitated, then put the pen to paper. Everyone was silent. His hand moved, and the scratch of the quill on the paper sounded like thunder.
Edward put down the pen.
'How could you treat your mother this way?' Augusta said, and the sob in her voice was genuine.
Emily sanded the signature and picked up the document.
Augusta moved between Emily and the door.
Both Edward and Micky looked on, bemused and motionless, as the two women faced each other.
Augusta said: 'Give me that paper.'
Emily stepped closer, hesitated in front of Augusta, and then, astonishingly, she slapped Augusta's face.
The blow stung. Augusta cried out with surprise and pain and staggered back.
Emily stepped past her quickly, opened the door, and left the room, still clutching the document.
Augusta sat down heavily in the nearest chair and began to cry.
She heard Edward and Micky leave the room.
She felt old, defeated and alone.
Section 3
THE ISSUE OF TWO MILLION POUNDS' WORTH of Santamaria harbor bonds was a flop, much worse than Hugh had feared. By the deadline date Pilasters Bank had sold only four hundred thousand pounds' worth, and on the following day the price immediately fell. Hugh was deeply glad he had forced Edward to sell the bonds on commission rather than underwriting them.
On the following Monday morning Jonas Mulberry brought in the summary of the previous week's business that was handed to all the partners. Before the man had left the room Hugh noticed a discrepancy. 'Just a minute, Mulberry,' he said. 'This can't be right.' There was a huge fall in cash on deposit, well over a million pounds. 'There hasn't been a big withdrawal, has there?'
'Not that I know of, Mr. Hugh,' said Mulberry.
Hugh looked around the room. All the partners were there except Edward, who had not yet arrived. 'Does anyone recall a big withdrawal last week?'
Nobody did.
Hugh stood up. 'Let's check,' he said to Mulberry.
They went up the stairs to the senior clerks' room. The item they were looking for was too big to have been a cash withdrawal. It had to be an interbank transaction. Hugh recalled from his days as a clerk that there was a journal of such transactions updated daily. He sat at a table and said to Mulberry: 'Find me the interbank book, please.'
Mulberry pulled a big ledger from a shelf and set it in front of him. Another clerk piped up: 'Is there anything I can do to assist, Mr. Hugh? I keep that ledger.' He had a worried look and Hugh realized he was afraid he might have made an error.
Hugh said: 'You're Clemmow, aren't you?'
'Yes, sir.'
'What big withdrawals were there last week--a million pounds or more?'
'Only one,' the clerk said immediately. 'The Santamaria Harbor Company withdrew one million, eight hundred thousand--the amount of the bond issue, less commission.'
Hugh shot to his feet. 'But they didn't have that much--they only raised four hundred thousand!'
Clemmow turned pale. 'The issue was two million pounds' of bonds--'
'But it wasn't underwritten, it was a commission sale!'
'I checked their balance--it was a million eight.'
'Damnation!' Hugh shouted. All the clerks in the room stared at him. 'Show me the ledger!'
Another clerk on the other side of the room pulled down a huge book, brought it over to Hugh and opened it at a page marked: 'Santamaria Harbor Board.'
There were only three entries: a credit of two million pounds, a debit of two hundred thousand pounds commission to the bank, and a transfer to another bank of the balance.
Hugh was livid. The money was gone. If it had simply been credited to the account in error, the mistake could have been rectified easily. But the money had been withdrawn from the bank the next day. That suggested a carefully planned fraud. 'By God, someone is going to jail for this,' he said wrathfully. 'Who wrote these entries?'
'I did, sir,' said the clerk who had brought him the book. He was shaking with fear.
'On what instructions?'
'The usual paperwork. It was all in order.'
'Where did it come from?'
'From Mr. Oliver.'
Simon Oliver was a Cordovan and the cousin of Micky Miranda. Hugh instantly suspected he was behind the fraud.
Hugh did not want to continue this inquiry in front of twenty clerks. He was already regretting that he had let them all know about the problem. But when he started he had not known he was going to
