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must be a shock, and it is a considerable responsibility, but your uncle had the highest regard for your abilities. He felt very strongly that you should succeed him. You have spent time working in many of the company’s businesses, and your uncle told me you have done well in them all. I know that he would have wanted you to step up to the mark, Alexander. It may be slightly earlier than any of us might have expected but nevertheless it was his wish.’
    Alexander leant back in his chair and closed his eyes. From being the family underdog to controlling the whole firm was an intoxicating idea, yet Doggett clearly felt that he might need persuading. How they all misjudged him. After a suitable pause he nodded.
    ‘Very well, I agree. Now you’d better tell me what it is that I’m responsible for.’
    Doggett explained every aspect of the business – he had no choice under Alexander’s relentless questioning. After over three hours, Doggett raised a weary hand as if he had had enough, but Alexander had one final question.
    ‘As managing director I report to the shareholders. Tell me about them.’
    Doggett’s expression of helpful enquiry didn’t change, but his whole body tightened slightly.
    ‘Well, it’s rather a complicated shareholder structure. The company has grown up in quite a … let’s say higgledy-piggledy way over the past thirty-odd years. Wainwright Enterprises is eighty per cent owned by Wainwright Holdings; ten per cent was held personally by your uncle and has been bequeathed fifty-fifty to you and your cousin, Graham Wainwright; and ten per cent is owned by Councillor Ward.’
    ‘George Ward? I voted for him.’
    ‘Indeed.’
    ‘And who owns Wainwright Holdings?’
    Doggett shifted slightly in his seat.
    ‘Would you like some more tea? Or a beer or whisky perhaps, given the hour?’
    ‘No thanks. You were saying, about Wainwright Holdings.’
    ‘This is where it becomes more complicated. For various reasons – predominantly tax, but I can assure you it is all legitimate – Wainwright Holdings is owned by a number of trusts on behalf of several local businessmen.’
    ‘And they are?’
    Three of the names he recognised immediately: Frederick Doggett, the man sitting opposite him; Jeremy Kemp, their solicitor; and James FitzGerald, his late uncle’s financial adviser.
    The clock chimed the quarter hour. Doggett glanced at it and stood up.
    ‘This is a little bit awkward, Alexander, but I actually have a dinner engagement – I’m meant to be there now. Could we continue this some other time?’
    ‘Of course. How about first thing tomorrow morning?’
    ‘Diary’s rather full, I’m afraid. I’ll get my secretary to call yours and set up a time.’
     
    Despite his urgent supper engagement, Doggett watched from the vantage point of his upper window as Alexander left the building, following the underdressed new managing director of Wainwright Enterprises with his eyes until he turned a corner and was out of sight. Then, all thoughts of dinner apparently gone, he sat down at his desk and picked up the phone. The number he dialled was answered at once, and he spoke without preamble.
    ‘James, he just left. It didn’t go quite as well as we expected. He’s more assertive than we were led to believe … Bright? Well, yes, I’d say he was, surprisingly so, but I think it’s more his persistence than any intelligence we’ll have to worry about. There’s more of the Wainwright blood in him than we’d all thought.’
    There was a longer pause, in which Doggett shifted uncomfortably in his grand leather chair, beads of sweat forming on his forehead. When he spoke next it was with an effort to maintain his smoothness.
    ‘Yes, of course, if you want to meet. I’ll call Jeremy and wait for you here.’
    Doggett replaced the receiver with a shaky hand and ranknobbly fingers nervously through his hair, disturbing its immaculate finish. He sat unmoving for several moments then, loosening his