Free A Perfect Heritage by Penny Vincenzi

let alone where he might have something to offer.
    Jonjo had arranged for them to meet in the Blue Bar at the Berkeley Hotel, near Finlayson’s office, so that he might meet the man and hear his proposition first hand. ‘I think you’ll like him, extraordinary fellow,’ Jonjo had said, ‘but you must make your own mind up about that.’
    Finlayson smiled back at him now; but so briefly that a blink would have obscured it. It was one of his trademarks, Patrick discovered, that brief smile, unnerving to anyone who didn’t know him. He had other unnerving habits; he spent a lot of time during a conversation with his fingertips together, staring up at the ceiling, and he ate and drank with extraordinary speed. His plate was often empty before his companions had so much as picked up their knives and forks and he was leaning forward again firing questions, demanding answers, generally making a mealtime as uncomfortable as it could be. Fortunately for Patrick they were not having a meal, merely an early evening post-work drink; Finlayson had ordered a tonic on the rocks and downed it in one, while Patrick and Jonjo were taking preliminary sips of their martinis.
    ‘Well,’ said Finlayson, ‘I don’t know about the fascinating, but it’s important. Now, you are a chartered accountant, and one of the things you do, or are trained to do at any rate, is look at the accounts of a company in huge detail. That sound right to you?’
    ‘Yes, it does. But—’
    ‘OK. So you can be given an annual report that’s two hundred pages long, look at it for two days, and then come back with stuff most people couldn’t possibly find out or know in a month of Sundays. You are someone who can look into what I call the weeds of the company, who knows how and where to look for possible problems, someone who has a sort of instinct about something that doesn’t seem to quite add up. Because to my mind – our minds – that’s where genuine ideas can come from. About what might happen to that company and what it’s actually up to. All right?’
    ‘Yes, I . . . think so,’ said Patrick. He felt increasingly edgy. ‘I don’t know that I’m your man, not if you want ideas.’
    ‘No, no,’ said Finlayson impatiently, ‘the ideas would come from your reports and observations, not you. Most people don’t have time to do that sort of in-depth stuff, and don’t employ anyone who does, either. But to me it’s essential. Jonjo suggested you, so do you think you have that sort of ability? To trawl endlessly through stuff and spot anything that – well, asks a question. I’ve always maintained,’ he added, ‘a really good accountant would have spotted that Enron was fudging their accounts.’
    ‘Really?’ said Patrick. ‘Good God. Well, you really should know that the stuff I’m involved with at the moment is pretty tame by anyone’s standards. I really don’t know that I’m high-powered enough for that sort of thing.’
    ‘That’s for me to judge,’ said Finlayson. ‘Look, it boils down to this: if I feel you’re the right man for the job, then you probably are – and I’d like to take it on to the next stage.’
    Patrick felt a mild sensation of panic.
    ‘Well . . .’ he said. ‘Well, I’m deeply flattered but I’d like to think about it a bit more, talk to my wife about it, that sort of thing . . .’
    ‘Yes, yes, OK,’ said Finlayson. He seemed to find this understandable but irritating. ‘And on that tack, you should therefore point out to her that even though you’d be doing familiar work, it would be a much more demanding environment than you’re probably used to and you’d work pretty long hours. Think she’d be up for that? You’d probably have a few uneaten dinners, that sort of thing.’
    ‘My wife’s very realistic about all that,’ said Patrick, hoping this was true. ‘She works pretty long hours herself.’
    ‘Of course. I googled her. Clever girl. Well, have a think, and so will