Free Not a Penny More, Not a Penny Less by Jeffrey Archer Page B

large
armchair usually occupied by Stephen, “but I’m making enquiries into a company
called Discovery Oil. Now, before you say anything, sir, we realise that you
had no personal involvement in the running of this company. But we do need your
help, and I would prefer to ask you a series of questions which will bring out
the points I need answered, rather than you just giving a general assessment.”
    Stephen nodded his agreement.
    “First, sir, why did you
invest such a large amount in Discovery Oil?”
    The inspector had in front of him a sheet of
paper with a list of all the investments made in the company over the past four
months.
    “On the advice of a friend,” replied Stephen.
    “Would the friend be a Mr. David Kesler?”
    “Yes.”
    “How do you know Mr. Kesler?”
    “We were students at Harvard together and
when he took up his appointment in England to work for an oil company I invited
him down to Oxford for old times’ sake.”
    Stephen went on to explain the full
background of his association with David, and the reason he had been willing to
invest such a large amount. He ended his explanation by asking if the inspector
considered David was criminally involved in the rise and fall of Discovery Oil.
    “No, sir. My own view is that Kesler, who
incidentally has made a run for it and left the country, is no more than a dupe
of bigger men, but we would like to question him, so if he contacts you, please
let me know immediately.
    “Now, sir,” he continued, “I’m going to read
you a list of names and I would be obliged if you could tell me whether you
have ever met, spoken to or heard of any of them... Harvey Metcalfe?”
    “No,” said Stephen.
    “Bernie Silverstein?”
    “I have never met or spoken to him, but
David did mention his name in conversation when he dined with me here in
college.”
    The Detective Sergeant was writing down
everything Stephen said, slowly and methodically.
    “Richard Elliott?”
    “The same applies to him as Silverstein,”
murmured Stephen.
    “Alvin Cooper?”
    “No,” said Stephen.
    “Have you had any contact with anyone else
who invested in this company?”
    “No,” said Stephen.
    For well over an hour the inspector quizzed
Stephen on minor points, but he was unable to give very much help, although he
had kept a copy of the geologist’s report.
    “Yes, we have one of those, sir,” said the
inspector, “but it’s carefully worded and we won’t be able to rely much on that
for evidence.”
    “Evidence against whom or for what, Inspector?”
Stephen leaned forward. “It’s clear to me that I have been taken for a great
big ride. I probably don’t need to tell you what a fool I have been. I put my
shirt on Discovery Oil because it sounded like a surefire winner. Now I have
lost everything I had and I don’t know where to turn. What in heaven’s name has
been going on in Discovery Oil?”
    He offered the two men some whisky and
poured himself a donnish dry sherry.
    “Well, sir,” said the inspector, “you’ll
appreciate there are aspects of the case I can’t discuss with you. Indeed,
there are aspects that aren’t very clear to us yet. However, the game is an old
one, and this time it has been played by an old pro, a very cunning old pro. It
works like this: a company is set up or taken over by a bunch of villains who
acquire most of the shares. They make up a good story about a new find or
product that will send the shares up, whisper it in a few ears, release their
own shares onto the market, where they are snapped up by the likes of you, sir,
at a good price. Then they clear off with the profit they have made and the
shares collapse. As often as not, it ends in dealings in the company’s shares
being suspended on the stock market, and finally in the compulsory liquidation
of the company. That has not yet happened in this case, and may not. The
Montreal Stock Exchange is only just recovering from the Aquablast fiasco and
they don’t want another